I’m being silly, of course. Byron’s the warden — no one can defy him and expect to skate, no matter how much of a pain in the ass they are. Additionally, nothing’s changed as far as Prescott is concerned. He wants her broken, which means I have to make her suffer, whether I want to or not.
Or not…
I never thought I’d actually feel conflicted about this, considering where we started. I hated her for what happened to Lance, back before I accepted she wasn’t to blame. It’s not her fault either for defending herself against Jefferson. Even killing Corbin was pretty justifiable. She doesn’t deserve to be punished for any of that — but until I find us a way out, I don’t see any other alternative.
When Stacey comes back around, a fresh wad of gum between her teeth, I order another Jack and Coke but skip the shots. I watch a bit of the Phillies game absentmindedly, sipping my drink slowly enough that my initial buzz wears off.
Hearing an obnoxious, familiar laugh, I turn to see Glenn and Travis talking to a pair of pretty, blonde college girls at the other end of the bar. Did they notice me sitting here on the way in? Maybe, but they definitely didn’t come here looking for me. They’re on the prowl.
The girls smile with their mouths shut, nodding occasionally as Glenn and Travis ramble at each other. The guys are handsome enough, but acting like college students despite being in their thirties; the two blondes are smart enough to see through it but too polite to brush them off. The guys stand behind the women, trapping them at the bar without an easy way to slip by — I can’t help being reminded of Quinn’s story. Do the guys even realize they’re doing it, or is it just instinctual to corner their prey?
The more I watch, the angrier I get; I can’t believe I thought of these two clowns as my friends. I’d like to think that the girls don’t need my help or anyone else’s — that, like Quinn, they’ll put Glenn and Travis in their place when they’re ready. However, I’m tired of waiting.
Taking my drink with me, I march on over, donning a wide grin. “Dudes!” I shout, a little too loud, forcing Glenn and Travis to turn around. Their smiles drop the second they see me. “Sup, guys? Funny running into you, huh?”
“Do you know each other?” asks one of the girls.
I drape my arms over Travis and Glenn’s shoulders and pull them back a step. “Oh yeah, we go way back. It’s been a while though, huh?” An overwhelmingly thick concentration of body spray nearly makes me lightheaded, but I hang on long enough for the girls to hop off their bar stools.
“Reed, we were kinda busy with-” Glenn starts, his nostrils flaring as both men slip my clutch.
“Oh, I get it. So much going on, right? Same here. I feel so guilty, I’ve barely had time to go see Lance at the hospital. Have you been out there lately?”
“Hospital? Is your friend okay?” one of the girls asks, her hand digging into her purse.
I shake my head. “No, sadly, he’s been in a coma a few months.”
“We saw him last week,” says Travis. “He was looking a lot better.”
“No you didn’t,” I reply, dropping my ebullient facade. “I was just there, and he looked like shit.”
The guys glare at me, expressions venomous, but I stare right back.
“Hey, we’ve got to go,” says one of the girls as the pair of them slip away. “It’s been nice meeting you.”
“You too!” I call after them, watching them go. When I turn back to Glenn and Travis, they scowl.
“What the fuck, Reed? Way to cock block,” Travis gripes.
I finish off my Jack and Coke, taking my time. “Yeah, sorry about that,” I say when I’m done. “It was a dick move. Kinda like lying about visiting your friend in the hospital. Do you guys give a shit about Lance at all?”
“Hey, fuck you,” Glenn growls. “Lance was our boy. We liked him. We just weren’t his bitches.”
“Excuse me?” I step towards them, getting in their faces. “What the hell does that mean?”
Glenn and Travis look at each other and laugh.
“Aww bro, that’s just sad,” says Travis.
“Seriously, you didn’t know?” Glenn adds.
“What?”
Travis wipes his palm across his head, careful not to muss his pompadour. “Shit. I feel bad saying this, but Lance owned you, dude. You always did whatever he said, even when it was fucking stupid.”
Glenn nods. “Lance said it was cause you don’t have any other friends.”
“Lance liked to run his mouth,” I snarl, crossing my arms in front of my chest. Buzzsaws rip through my head, roaring with a million memories of Lance ordering me around. They’re right. I’m not gonna admit it, but they are.