Out of Aces by Stephanie Guerra

everything. Sometimes you tell your best friend stuff that you wouldn’t tell your girlfriend. Too bad in my case they were the same person. When I was done, there was a long silence. “Ir ina?”
    “If you go to jail, I’m breaking up with you.”
    “W hat?”
    “I’m just warning you, I’m not one of those women who would stay with her boyfriend if he went to j ail.”
    “I’m not going to jail! And that’s messed up. You’d seriously leave me if I got put a way?”
    “Absolut ely.”
    I glared at the wall. “Well, thank you very much. It’s nice to know you’d be there for me through anyth ing.”
    “Who ever said I’d be there for you through anything? There are a lot of things I wouldn’t stick around for.” Irina paused, and when I didn’t answer, she said in a softer voice, “Baby, I’m not trying to give you a hard time. But if you get a record, it follows you for the rest of your life. You have your GED now; you could work somewhere le gal.”
    GED. That damn thing. Just thinking about it got me depressed. Why was I always the one apologizing for my sorry life?
    “You know what?” I said, pulling a sharp turn in the conversation—and thinking about what April told me earlier about her cheating husband. “I’ve been thinking about Micah. And I don’t want you hanging out with him anym ore.”
    “ What? Where did that come from? Are you trying to change the subj ect?”
    I was trying to change the subject. And I knew I should fold. But I doubled down instead. “I’m just saying, I don’t want you hanging out with him. Since we’re talking about reasons we’d leave each other.” There was a silence so long that my neck pric kled.
    Finally Irina said, “Are you trying to tell me who I’m allowed to be friends with?” She sounded dangerously am used.
    “I’m trying to tell you this guy is obviously hitting on you, and I’m tired of it.”
    “H mmm.”
    “What’s h mmm ?”
    “ Hmmm is me trying to figure out what to do when my boyfriend starts acting controlling . And by the way, that was a cheap way to change the subject. We were talking about your job .”
    “Controlling?” I said coldly. In a sick way, I wanted this fight. “Fine, call me names, but I still don’t want you seeing him.”
    “The day you start telling me who I can be friends with is the day this relationship ends,” Irina said.
    “Well, thanks for laying it out.”
    “I have to go,” she said.
    “F ine.”
    “F ine.”
    She hung up and I pitched my phone onto the mattress. I stalked around my two-hundred-square-foot, stinky-ass apartment, fists balled up. I wanted to hit the wall, but I’ve never been the kind of guy who breaks his own fingers because he’s mad. I put my hands in my pockets instead and cussed a few t imes.
    I called her back five minutes later. “I’m sorry,” I said through slightly gritted t eeth.
    “I’m sorry, too. I love you.”
    “I love you, too.”
    “O kay.”
    “Okay. Are you still going to hang out with him?”
    “Gabe, I love you, but you really, really can’t tell me who I can be friends w ith.”
    I gro aned.
    “I’m sorry. I understand why you don’t like it. But don’t you trust me?”
    “Yes. But I don’t trust him.”
    “Well, if you trust me , you have to trust that I can take care of mys elf.”
    Perfect. Now if I came back at her, I’d be saying she didn’t know how to take care of herself. Finally I said, “I can’t promise what I’ll do if I meet this guy.”
    “Hmmm,” said Irina. I could hear her tapping something on the other end. “I guess I’ll have to make sure that never happ ens.”

CHAPTER NINE
    O n Christmas morning, or more like afternoon, I got out of bed and stuck a water bottle of vodka in one pocket and eight hundred bucks in the other. I wasn’t going to sit around and be depressed; no one-man party in my nasty digs. I’d find some fun.
    Before I left, I texted my mom Merry Christmas and turned off my ringer. Half