Beautiful Disaster 01 by Jamie McGuire Page B

an hour, and then it was quiet.
    Seconds later, moans, humming and shouting filled the apartment. It sounded as if a pornographic movie was being filmed in the living room. I covered my face with my hands, and shook my head. Whatever lines had blurred or disappeared in the last week, an impenetrable stone wall had gone up in their place. I shook off my ridiculous emotions, forcing myself to relax. Travis was Travis, and we were, without a doubt, friends, and only friends.
    The shouting and other nauseating noises quieted down after an hour, followed by whining, and then grumbling by the women after being dismissed. Travis showered and then collapsed onto his side of the bed, turning his back to me. Even after his shower, he smelled like he’d drank enough whiskey to sedate a horse, and I was livid that he’d driven his motorcycle home in such a state.
    After the awkwardness faded and the anger weakened, I still couldn’t sleep. When Travis’ breaths were deep and even, I sat up to look at the clock. The sun was going to rise in less than an hour. I ripped the covers off of me, walked down the hall and took a blanket from the hall cabinet. The only evidence of Travis’ threesome was two empty condom packages on the floor. I stepped over them and fell into the recliner.
    I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, America and Shepley were sitting quietly on the couch watching a muted television. The sun lit the apartment, and I cringed when my back complained at any attempted movement.
    America’s attention darted to me. “Abby?” she said, rushing to my side. She watched me with wary eyes. She was waiting for anger, or tears, or another emotionally charged outburst.
    Shepley looked miserable. “I’m sorry about last night, Abby. This is my fault.”
    I smiled. “It’s okay, Shep. You don’t have to apologize.”
    America and Shepley traded glances, and then she grabbed my hand. “Travis went to the store. He is… ugh , it doesn’t matter what he is. I packed your stuff, and I’ll take you to the dorms before he gets home so you don’t have to deal with him.”
    It wasn’t until that moment that I felt like crying; I had been kicked out. I worked to keep my voice smooth before I spoke. “Do I have time to take a shower?”
    America shook her head. “Let’s just go, Abby, I don’t want you to have to see him. He doesn’t deserve to—,”
    The door flew open, and Travis walked in, his arms lined with grocery sacks. He walked straight into the kitchen, furiously working to get the cans and boxes into the cabinets.
    “When Pidge wakes up, let me know, okay?” he said in a soft voice. “I got spaghetti, and pancakes, and strawberries, and that oatmeal shit with the chocolate packets, and she likes Fruity Pebbles cereal, right, Mare?” he asked, turning.
    When he saw me, he froze. After an awkward pause, his expression melted, and his voice was smooth and sweet.“Hey, Pigeon.”
    I couldn’t have been more confused if I had woken up in a foreign country. Nothing made sense. At first I thought I had been evicted, and then Travis comes home with bags full of my favorite foods.
    He took a few steps into the living room, nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. “You hungry, Pidge? I’ll make you some pancakes. Or there’s uh…there’s some oatmeal. And I got you some of that pink foamy shit that girl’s shave with, and a hairdryer, and a…a….just a sec, it’s in here,” he said, rushing to the bedroom.
    The door opened, shut, and then he rounded the corner, the color gone from his face. He took a deep breath and his eyebrows pulled in. “Your stuff’s packed.”
    “I know,” I said.
    “You’re leaving,” he said, defeated.
    I looked to America, who glowered at Travis as if she could kill him. “You actually expected her to stay ?”
“Baby,” Shepley whispered.
“Don’t fucking start with me, Shep. Don’t you dare defend him to me,” America seethed.
Travis looked desperate. “I