Walking Disaster

By: Jamie McGuire

I heard Lexi giggle, forcing me to restrain the irritation boiling inside me. When I sat, she used my knee for a chair.

Some of the guys from the football team sitting at our table watched in awe, as if being followed by two inarticulate tarts was an unattainable aspiration for them.

Lexi slid her hand under the table and then pressed her fingers into my thigh as she made her way up the inseam of my jeans. I spread my legs a little wider, waiting for her to reach her mark.

Just before I felt her hands on me, America’s loud murmurs traveled down the table.

“I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.”

Lexi turned, her entire body rigid. “I heard that, skank.”

A dinner roll flew past Lexi’s face and bounced off the floor. Shepley and I traded glances, and then I let my knee give way.

Lexi’s ass bounced off the cafeteria tile. I admit, it turned me on a little hearing the sound of her skin slap against the ceramic.

She didn’t complain much before walking away. Shepley seemed to appreciate my gesture, and that was good enough for me. My toleration for girls like Lexi only lasted so long. I had one rule: respect. For me, my family, and for my friends. Hell, even some of my enemies deserved respect. I didn’t see a reason to associate longer than necessary with people who didn’t understand that life lesson. It might sound hypocritical to the women that have passed through my apartment door, but if they carried themselves with respect, I would have given it to them.

I winked at America, who seemed satisfied, nodded to Shepley, and then took another bite of whatever was on my plate.

“Nice job last night, Mad Dog,” Chris Jenks said, flicking a crouton across the table.

“Shut up, dumb ass,” Brazil said in his typical low voice. “Adam will never let you back in if he hears you’re talking.”

“Oh. Yeah,” he said, shrugging.

I took my tray to the trash, and then returned to my seat with a frown. “And don’t call me that.”

“What? Mad Dog?”


“Why not? I thought that was your Circle name. Kind of like your stripper name.”

My eyes targeted Jenks. “Why don’t you shut up and give that hole in your face a chance to heal.”

I’d never liked that little worm.

“Sure thing, Travis. All you had to do was say so.” He chuckled nervously before gathering his trash and heading out.

Before long, most of the lunchroom was empty. I glanced down to see Shepley and America still hanging around, talking with her friend. She had long, wavy hair, and her skin was still bronzed from summer break. She didn’t have the biggest tits I’d ever seen, but her eyes . . . they were a weird gray color. Familiar somehow.

There was no way I’d met her before, but something about her face reminded me of something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I stood up and walked toward her. She had the hair of a porn star, and the face of an angel. Her eyes were almond shaped and uniquely beautiful. That was when I saw it: behind the beauty and fake innocence was something else, something cold and calculating. Even when she smiled, I could see sin so deeply ingrained in her that no cardigan could hide it. Those eyes floated above her tiny nose, and smooth features. To anyone else, she was pure and naive, but this girl was hiding something. I knew only because the same sin had dwelled in me my entire life. The difference was she held it deep within her, and I let mine out of its cage on a regular basis.

I watched Shepley until he felt me staring at him. When he looked my way, I nodded in the pigeon’s direction.

Who’s that? I mouthed.

Shepley only responded with a confused frown.

Her, I silently mouthed again.

Shepley’s mouth turned up into the annoying asshole grin he always made when he was about to do something to piss me off.

“What?” Shepley asked, a lot louder than necessary.

I could tell the girl knew we were talking about her, because she kept her head down, pretending not to hear.

After spending sixty seconds in Abby Abernathy’s presence, I discerned two things: she didn’t talk much, and when she did she was kind of a bitch. But I don’t know . . . I kind of dug that about her. She put on a front to keep assholes like me away, but that made me even more determined.

She rolled her eyes at me for the third or fourth time. I was annoying her and found it pretty amusing. Girls didn’t usually treat me with unadulterated loathing, even when I was showing them the door.

When even my best smiles didn’t work, I turned it up a notch.

“Do you have a twitch?”

“A what?” she asked.

“A twitch. Your eyes keep wiggling around.” If she could have murdered me with her glare, I would have bled out on the floor. I couldn’t help but laugh. She was a smart-ass and rude as hell. I liked her more every second.

I leaned closer to her face. “Those are some amazing eyes, though. What color is that, anyway? Gray?”

She immediately ducked her head, letting her hair cover her face. Score. I made her uncomfortable, and that meant I was getting somewhere.

America immediately jumped in, warning me away. I couldn’t blame her. She’d seen the endless line of girls come in and out of the apartment. I didn’t want to piss America off, but she didn’t look angry. More like amused.

“You’re not her type,” America said.

My mouth fell open, playing into her game. “I’m everyone’s type!”

The pigeon peeked over at me and grinned. A warm feeling—probably just the insane urge to throw this girl on my couch—came over me. She was different, and it was refreshing.

“Ah! A smile,” I said. Simply calling it a smile, like it wasn’t the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, seemed wrong, but I wasn’t about to fuck up my game when I was just getting ahead. “I’m not a rotten bastard after all. It was nice to meet you, Pidge.”

I stood, walked around the table, and leaned into America’s ear. “Help me out here, would ya? I’ll behave, I swear.”

A French fry came hurdling toward my face.

“Get your lips outta my girl’s ear, Trav!” Shepley said.

I backed away, holding my hands up to highlight the most innocent expression on my face that I could manage. “Networking! I’m networking!” I walked backward a few steps to the door, noticing a small group of girls. I opened the door, and they swarmed through like a herd of water buffalo before I could let myself out.

It had been a long time since I’d had a challenge. The weird thing was, I wasn’t out to fuck her. It bothered me that she might think I was a piece of shit, but it bothered me more that I cared. Either way, for the first time in a long time, someone was unpredictable. Pigeon was the total opposite of the girls I’d met here, and I had to know why.

CHANEY’S CLASS WAS FULL. I TOOK THE STEPS TO my seat two at a time, and then waded through the bare legs crowding my desk.

I nodded. “Ladies.”

They hummed and sighed in harmony.

Vultures. Half of them I’d bagged my freshman year, the other half had been on my couch well before fall break. Except the girl on the end. Sophia flashed a crooked smile. It looked like her face had caught fire and someone had tried to put it out with a fork. She had been with a few of my frat brothers. Knowing their track records and her lack of concern for safety, it was best to consider her an unnecessary risk, even if I was habitually careful.

She leaned forward on her elbows to make better eye contact. I felt the urge to shudder with disgust, but I resisted. No. Not even close to being worth it.

The brunette in front of me turned around and batted her lashes. “Hey, Travis. I hear there’s a date party coming up at Sig Tau.”

“No,” I said without pause.

Her bottom lip formed a pout. “But . . . when you told me about it, I thought you might want to go.”

I laughed once. “I was bitching about it. Not the same.”

The blonde next to me leaned forward. “Everyone knows Travis Maddox doesn’t go to date parties. You’re barking up the wrong tree, Chrissy.”

“Oh yeah? Well, no one asked you,” Chrissy said with a frown.

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