My stomach drops. She's right. I know that. But hearing another person say it…
Fuck.
She turns onto Wilshire.
"You think I'm an asshole?" I ask.
"Did he really lay on that 'the past doesn't matter' shit?"
"Yeah."
"Then no. You're not an asshole. You made a mistake. Everyone does."
"Will he ever see it that way?"
"I hope so." Her fingers tap the dash. "But I really don't know."
Chapter Thirty-Six
Walker
"Either you're an idiot or you have a deep appreciation for irony." Brendon hoists my arm onto his shoulder.
"He's an idiot." Dean grabs the other.
Fucking assholes.
I don't need their help.
I can get wasted and stumble home on my own just fine.
Dean drags me up the steps to my apartment.
"Fuck you." I try to pull my arms to my sides, but there's two of them and one of me. It isn't happening.
Fuck this.
Fuck the entire universe.
"Didn't work the first time." Dean motions to the door. "Hand me your keys or I'm digging through your pocket."
"You're holding my arm." I grit my teeth.
"You're being a child." He shoots Brendon a look and releases my right arm.
"Thanks." I flip him off, dig into my pockets, take out my keys. The pewter Millennium Falcon, the one Iris bought me, mocks me.
I can see her soft lips pressing into a smile. I can hear her nervous giggle. Do you like it? Tell me you like it.
Was she high?
Thinking about getting high?
Did she mean a single fucking thing she said?
Dean grabs the key. Slides it into the lock and kicks the door open.
"I can walk." I plant both feet on the ground.