I carried him around the apartment, waiting while America searched for her bag.
“I know I left it here!” she said from the bathroom, stomping down the hall to Shepley’s room.
“Did you look in the cabinet under the sink?” Shepley asked.
I looked at my watch. “Hurry, Mare. We need to get going.”
America sighed in frustration from the bedroom.
I looked down at my watch again, and then jumped when the front door burst open behind me. Travis stumbled in, his arms wrapped around Megan, who was giggling against his mouth. A box in her hand caught my eye, and I felt sick when I realized what it was: condoms. Her other hand was on the back of his neck, and I couldn’t tell whose arms were tangled around who.
Travis did a double take when he saw me standing alone in the middle of the living room, and when he froze, Megan looked up with a residual smile still on her face.
“Pigeon,” Travis said, stunned.
“Found it!” America said, jogging out of Shepley’s room.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. The stench of whiskey blew in with the flurry of snowflakes, and my uncontrollable anger overcame any need to feign indifference.
“It’s good to see you’re feeling like your old self, Trav,” I said. The heat that radiated from my face burned my eyes and blurred my vision.
“We were just leaving,” America snarled. She grabbed my hand as we slid past Travis.
We flew down the steps toward her car, and I was thankful that it was just a few steps further, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. I almost fell backward when my coat snagged on something midstep. America’s hand slipped from mine and she flipped around the same time I did.
Travis had a fistful of my coat, and my ears caught fire, stinging in the cold night air. His lips and collar were a ridiculous shade of deep red.
“Where are you going?” he said, a half-drunk, half-confused look in his eyes.
“Home,” I snapped, straightening my coat when he released me.
“What are you doing here?”
I could hear the packed snow crunch under America’s feet as she walked up behind me, and Shepley flew down the stairs to stand behind Travis, his wary eyes fixed on his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry. If I’d know you were going to be here, I wouldn’t have come.”
He shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “You can come here anytime you want, Pidge. I never wanted you to stay away.”
I couldn’t manage the acidity in my voice. “I don’t want to interrupt.” I looked to the top of the stairs where Megan stood with a smug expression. “Enjoy your evening,” I said, turning away.
He grabbed my arm. “Wait. You’re mad?”
I yanked my coat from his grip. “You know … I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”
His eyebrows pulled in. “I can’t win with you. I can’t win with you! You say you’re done … I’m fucking miserable over here! I had to break my phone into a million pieces to keep from calling you every minute of the damn day—I’ve had to play it off like everything is just fine at school so you can be happy … and you’re fucking mad at me? You broke my fuckin’ heart!” His last words echoed into the night.
“Travis, you’re drunk. Let Abby go home,” Shepley said.
Travis grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to him. “Do you want me or not? You can’t keep doing this to me, Pidge!”
“I didn’t come here to see you.” I said, glaring up at him.
“I don’t want her,” he said, staring at my lips. “I’m just so fucking unhappy, Pigeon.” His eyes glossed over and he leaned in, tilting his head to kiss me.
I grabbed him by the chin, holding him back. “You’ve got her lipstick on your mouth, Travis,” I said, disgusted.
He took a step back and lifted his shirt, wiping his mouth. He stared at the red streaks on the white fabric and shook his head. “I just wanted to forget. Just for one fuckin’ night.”