Page 31 of Needed You

They decided to go with someone else. All that work for nothing. Sometimes I wonder if this job is worth it. Or, rather, I wonder if it’s worth going after the bigger projects. Especially when I get rejections like this. Sure, landing a big project would potentially be a gateway to more success and more money, but the time I put in, drafting logos, business cards, stationary, stickers, and promo and marketing materials, only to have nothing come of it, was so much.

Just like with my parents and many of the people in Glenrock, it feels like my time isn’t worth people’s investment. Maybe I’ll stick to smaller, less time-consuming bids from now on. Freelance is no joke. I know that’s the business, but it hurts.

Much like the conversation I had with Lev the other day.

I haven’t reached out to him since that night at the lake. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t know what I would say. I can’t put myself out there and be hurt by him again.

Fuck all of it. I’m ready to unwind and kiss this week goodbye.

I take a few hits of my joint and start to get dressed to meet my group of friends that I like to hang out with on the weekends. Ryan and Katie won’t be there because they went away for the weekend, and I haven’t heard from Lance, so I don’t know if he’s going to be there or not. If he is, we’ll most likely leave together. I could use some time with him more than ever now.

As I pull on my long-sleeved, deep-purple Henley, I’m caught off guard by the thought of bright-blue eyes and dusky-blond hair. Will Lev be there tonight, too? I sit on the bed and put on my black canvas pants that are already holding various silver chains and patches. Then I slip on and lace up my knee-high black boots.

All the while, I can’t get Lev out of my head, and my stomach flutters at the thought that maybe he will be there.

I check myself in the mirror. My silver chains and dog tag fall right at my sternum, matching the glint of my silver earrings and black hoop lip ring. I slide on my long fishnet gloves, tuck my phone under my arm, and snuff out my joint just as my phone lights up with a text from one of my friends, Marcus. He’s apparently outside, waiting for me. With a final glance at my reflection, I head out to meet him at his car. Then he drives us to The Copper Exchange.

Marcus comments how busy the place is as we circle the main lot a few times before he ends up parking on the grass beside it. I can hear the music and feel the hyped-up energy before I even go inside. A blast of warm air meets me as I open the door and step in.

Scanning the room, I see some of my friends in the back, already playing pool. The speakers overhead blast an upbeat rock song from a few years ago through the room, and it’s enough to help calm some of my nerves. My eyes go to the corner of the room where I saw Lev last time, but he doesn’t seem to be here tonight. At least not yet.

Marcus and I meet our friends in the back game room. The group is mainly friends from high school. Keira and Marcus are the ones I really like hanging out with; they both have a style similar to mine. We all like to drink, laugh, and have a good time. There are zero expectations with this group, and I can just be me. It’s refreshing.

Once we get settled, I order a drink from the server, and we play a few rounds of pool and wait for the dartboard to be available. The group of guys at the table near the dartboard seems to be spending most of the time on darts. As the hours pass, they get louder. A few times, we catch them looking our way and talking, then turning back to the darts and laughing. I try not to bother with them or let what they’re doing bother me, but they get more and more obnoxious. My friends and I are also getting more drunk and feeling a bit bold.

Finally, Keira decides that she’s had enough. She walks over to them to ask if we can have some time with the dartboard. The rest of us stand by our table and watch. The loudest of the guys takes a swig of his beer and slams it down on the table, shaking his head and waving his hand in a dismissive motion as though telling her to leave. She shakes her head in frustration, muttering something under her breath, and starts to walk away. He reaches out and smacks her ass so hard she’s forced forward, letting out a surprised yelp. He grips her butt cheek, even as she tries to scoot away from him.

I. SEE. RED.

No one should be disrespected like that, and the fact that it was one of my friends strikes a nerve.

“Oh fuck no,” I shout.

I storm over immediately and get in his face, yelling, telling him to get his hands off of her. (I may have used some more choice words.) The man laughs, turning back to his friends. I move Keira behind me and step up to him. The tool that he is thinks he can intimidate me, pushing forward until we’re chest to chest.

“I don’t know why you would care if I grab that nice piece of ass or not,” he sneers.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask him, crossing my arms across my chest. I know exactly what he’s alluding to. I just want to know if he has the audacity to say it.

He laughs loudly. “Look, pretty boy.” He steps even closer, and I’m accosted by his hot, beer-scented breath. “We all know you eat corn on the cob the long way.” He follows that statement with a homophobic slur directed at me as he bumps his chest into mine.

I snap. I shove him, and pandemonium erupts. There are fists and elbows and bodies everywhere. Something connects with my cheek, and the pain is immediate. My fists hits faces and body parts and I think maybe a chair? I take a fist or elbow to the mouth, too, before I land a nice right hook into whoever did it. Someone connects another fist with my ribs, and I bend at the waist, trying to suck in a breath. I stand up again quickly and land an elbow in another person’s chin.

Suddenly, I’m hauled backwards, ripped off of someone I had gotten by the shirt and was punching in the face. I’m thrown backward, my shoulder slamming hard into the solid wall. A bar back pins me so I can’t move.

Everything is warped and nothing makes sense. The sound around me is muffled, my eyes are burning, and my head is pulsing with every heavy breath. Then, before I can process what’s happening, I’m outside in the cold. My knuckles are burning, and my face is on fire. Something’s dripping from my nose, and I touch my fingers to the skin above my lip. It’s wet. I see blood when I pull my hand away. I check my lip ring, and it’s in place, but my lip is busted in the middle, blood on my chin. I start pacing, clenching and unclenching my inflamed knuckles, my breathing heavy as I watch a few of my friends being dragged out as well.

“Sit the fuck down.”

My friend Tim is thrown into a chair, followed by Marcus. Tim has blood on his lip, and his shirt is ripped.

Keira, the girl who was just assaulted, comes out in tears. Her eyes connect with mine, and she smiles tightly at me as she walks closer. Then she stops and touches my arm. She gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she says. I nod to her and squeeze her arm. “Oh, Dare!” Her eyes go wide. “You’re hurt. Oh my god, you’re bleeding!”

I sniffle and wipe more of the blood away from my nose and lip. “I’m okay. Really. Are you?”

She nods and thanks me again. “Yeah, that guy’s a real dick.”

Some of her friends join us, and they all thank me, too, before they get in a car and leave.