The Mess Of Me:Chapter 21



Oh dear God, dear World, he is!  What the fuck does he fucking want?

I am angry now.  I easily switch to anger when I’ve been drinking. I can be overloaded with happiness one moment, and seething with rage the next. It can really switch that quickly. I sit back on my arse and hug my knees and scowl at him.  “You can stop watching me be sick now,” I tell him.  Travis smiles at me awkwardly.  He is on his knees, and sits back on his feet.

“Joe dropped his drink.”


“He dropped his drink, that’s why he didn’t follow you.”

“Oh.”  I blow out my breath and look back at my vomit, steaming away in the flowerbeds.  “You didn’t have to come.  I’m quite capable of being sick on my own actually.”

“Wasn’t sure you would make it out here okay.”

“Why do you fucking care all of a sudden?” I shout at him then.  It takes him by surprise.  Good.  He can get up and fuck right off and stop messing with my head like this.  He closes his mouth and looks away from me.

“Sorry,” he says then.  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.  I’ll leave you alone, if you’re sure you’ll be okay.”

“Why don’t you answer the question?”


“The question! Why do you care all of a sudden?  I’ve known you my whole life Travis.  Why all the attention suddenly?”

“Um.”  That is all he can say.  Um.  He scratches his nose.  Then he searches his pockets for a cigarette and finds one.

“You’re giving me the creeps,” I tell him, staring back at my sick.  “That’s all.”

“Well sorry.” Travis lights his cigarette and smiles at me.  I want him to stop smiling at me.  “That cocktail was toxic by the way.”


“She put fucking double in yours mate.  She topped it way up.”

“Did she?” I stare at him in confusion.  “Why would she?”

“I don’t know,” Travis shrugs at me, and puffs on his cigarette. “Maybe she wanted you out of the way?”

“What?”  I just stare at him.  I am sobering up now I have spewed, but I am still horribly confused by my entire life.

“Think she has the hots for Leon,” Travis shrugs again.  I roll my eyes at him, as if this is old news to me.

“Think she has the hots for all three of you,” I tell him.  “But I don’t care.  I feel better now anyway.  Time for another drink.”

“How about some food?”

“No thanks.”

“Come on.  Let me get you something.  It’ll soak up the booze.”

“You sound like her.”  I groan, getting slowly to my feet.  Travis stands up beside me and places his hand gently on my shoulder.

“You okay?”

“Yes thank you.” I am lying.  I am not okay.  I am feeling better, but I am still extremely drunk.  I suddenly start to make my way waveringly over to the garden bench.  Travis follows me hesitantly.  “Thought you were going back in?”

“Just need a little sit down first,” I tell him, and plonk myself down on the bench with a huge sigh.  “A bit more fresh air.” I wave my hand at him.  “Go on, you go.  I’m fine now.  Go and enjoy the party.”

Travis looks at me, and then looks at the house.  It is heaving and throbbing with people and music.  Why wouldn’t he want to be a part of that? I watch his shoulders drop slightly, and then he says.  “I’ll be back in a minute.”  He turns and goes into the house.  I nod at his back, saying nothing, but inside I am thinking ‘yeah right’, and I am also relieved.  I am on my own now.  I breathe in huge mouthfuls of fresh night air, and rest my head in my hand for a moment.  I recall the day, which seems like years ago now, when Joe and me sat out here watching Tommy play on Marianne’s swing set.  We had no idea where she was, and Leon wanted his drugs back.  I remember how for a moment or two it had felt like our entire world had crashed down around us.  And then I had started to laugh.

I am having a little giggle to myself at the memory when suddenly Travis reappears.  I groan inwardly at his persistence, and curse him for being so stupidly handsome.  And I remind myself that even if I did once have a teeny weeny crush on him, that was just on his looks, not his personality.  No way.  He passes me a pint of water and a packet of crisps and parks himself on the bench beside me.  I just look at him quizzically.  “You’ll feel better,” he says with a nod.

“Why do you keep doing this, when I’m drunk at parties?” I ask him then, my drunken state making me far more brazen than I would be otherwise.  When I am sober I think so many things that I keep to myself, or write on my wall.  I am glaring at him with an inviting smile.  He smiles back.  He shrugs at me.

“I don’t get the chance in normal life.  You’re always with Joe.”

“Oh.”  I look away and drink the water for a moment.  I even open the crisps and consider eating some.  I recall Joe suddenly kissing me on his bed that day after Mick had trashed his music, and it is on the tip of my tongue to just blurt it out.  To see what Travis’ reaction would be.  But I bite down on the urge.  I eat some crisps and drink some water, and we sit in silence until I look back at him and say; “You never bothered with me when I was fat, did you?  You didn’t like me then.  How superficial is that?”

Travis looks momentarily stunned and amused.  “I just never noticed you, that’s all,” he says in reply.  “You were just Joe’s friend.  You were both just these annoying little kids.”  He grins a wide grin that reminds me of Joe, and looks me up and down for a moment.  “Now suddenly you are all grown up.”

“So let me get this straight,” I say, dropping my eyes to my pint of water.  I run my index finger around the plastic rim.  “If I did let you kiss me, the only time it would ever happen would be when we’re drunk at parties?”

“No of course not,” Travis says more urgently, sitting forward, pushing his face towards mine.  “The only problem we would have is Joe.  It’s like he thinks he owns you or something.”  I look at him, and suddenly he leans in and goes for the kiss.  I duck away giggling, and he frowns.  “What?”

“You can’t really want to kiss me when I’ve just thrown up!”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s fucking disgusting!” I insist, keeping back from him.  “Look at the bloody state of me!”

“Why are you always so hard on yourself?  I said I don’t care.”

I stand up then, with my water and my crisps.  “I’m going to go and brush my teeth,” I look down at him and announce.  “I bet that when I get back you’ll be gone.”

I don’t give him a chance to reply.  I storm away across the grass and into the house.  I feel giddy with excitement, disbelief and alcohol.  I slide through the crowd, not looking for anyone, just minding my own crazy business. I run up the stairs to the bathroom, and luckily no one is in it.  I lock the door behind me and take five minutes to sort myself out.  I find a pack of spare toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet and brush my teeth.  I splash cold water onto my face and neck and run my fingers through my hair.  I check my clothes for splatters of vomit, and there are none.

I leave the bathroom, feeling oddly womanlike and conniving, and slip back downstairs.  It is only as I slide through the kitchen crowd that I spot Marianne with Leon in the corner.  She is sat on his lap, her face turned to his, her black hair hanging down over one shoulder.  I wonder where Joe is, but can’t see him anywhere.  I run back outside, half expecting Travis to be gone, but he is not.  He is still sat there patiently.  I make a mental decision to use him just as I am convinced he is using me.  Fuck it.  You are only sixteen once.  Who cares?  It’s not going to matter, is it?

I drop down onto the bench and Travis immediately moves closer to me, and stares into my eyes, biting down on his lower lip.  I shiver.  “Better?” he whispers.  I nod.  And then it happens.  He slides his hands onto either side of my face, holding it like it is made of china.  I feel my entire body tremble.  I have broken out in goose     pimples everywhere.  He closes his eyes and presses his lips onto mine.  I give in to him.  It is the gentlest, softest kiss I could ever have imagined.

As we kiss, I wonder helplessly if this is what being a woman is really like.  If this is what being attractive is really like.  Beautiful, stolen kisses.  Discoveries.  I melt into his arms, and feel alive, like I am made of electricity.  A part of me keeps expecting Joe to show up and interrupt us, for some horribly awkward scene to unfold, but he doesn’t.

We pull away from the kiss at the same time, which is a relief.  I feel stunned and wide open, utterly vulnerable, but I find myself resting my cheek on his shoulder and closing my eyes, waiting for him to say something.  I feel him breathing next to me.  I feel like I am in a fucking movie, or something.

“You okay?” he asks me finally, so I pull back and that is when the reality slaps me in the face; when I sit back and look at him.  He stares back at me expectantly, and I think oh my god, you are Joe’s brother.  I have known you my entire life.  You’ve never been anything more than an annoying twat until now.  I want to laugh, but that would be awful.  I glance nervously towards the house, suddenly convinced that I will say Joe’s betrayed face staring back at me from the French doors.  But I can’t see him anywhere.

“I think I better find Marianne and make sure she is okay,” I tell Travis, looking back at him shyly.  He nods at me.

“Okay, good idea.  I wouldn’t trust Leon, if I were you either.”

I frown at him.  “Or you!”

Travis laughs.  “Oh.  Yeah, right.”

I slide off the bench and get to my feet before things can go any further.  I feel the strong desire to get away from him and find Marianne to talk to.  I feel the strong desire for another drink.  “Think I’ll get another drink,” I say then, so it does not sound so much like I am abandoning him.  “Do you want anything?”

“I’m coming,” Travis says with a sigh, hauling himself to his feet.  We walk towards the house, and just before we reach the conservatory, Travis stops me with a hand on my shoulder.  I look at his hand and then look up at him.  “You’re not only beautiful and funny,” he leans towards me and whispers next to my cheek, “but you’re a fucking good kisser too.”  He kisses me once on the cheek, and goes on into the house.  I stand and stare in bewilderment and pure joy, and watch him go.  He has his hands in his pockets, which makes me think of Joe again.  He slips easily through the crowd, and disappears.  Well, I think, that is that then.

I do not see Travis again for the rest of the night.  For all I know, he walked from one end of the house to the other and left through the front door, right after he kissed my cheek.  I decide to look for Marianne.  I need to speak to her.  The party has descended into drunken chaos by the looks of it.  People are drunk and falling over, or huddled in corners kissing people they never thought they would.  I feel my cheeks growing warmer by the second as I try not to think of the kiss with Travis, and push my way through people to search for Marianne.  I am getting quite desperate to find her.  I really, really need to speak to her.

In the kitchen I find a legless Ryan leaning all over Josh.  It looks like they have drunk nearly all of Marianne’s punch by themselves.  I wonder how long I have been gone.  “Where’s Marianne?” I ask them, looking around for a fresh drink.  There is a can of unopened cider on the kitchen table, so I grab it, and when no one nearby protests, I open it and drink a mouthful.

“She went off with Joe’s brother,” Ryan tells me, trying like hell not to fall off the stool he is balanced on.  I stare at him intently.

“What, Leon?  Where did they go?”

“No idea,” he shrugs back at me.  “But they were snogging the faces of each other for a fair while down here!”

I am quite stunned.  “Really?  Were they?”  I nearly go into a rant about how gross and out of order that is in so many ways, but then I remember what has just happened between me and Travis outside, and I shut my mouth up.  I sit with Josh and Ryan for a while, digesting all of the information, and drinking my stolen cider.  “So where’s Joe?” I ask, just as he walks into the room.  “Oh.”

He slides in with his back to the counter, cider in hand and vacant look on his face.  I think of Travis, and I feel sick.  I feel so many things that I almost cannot take it, and seriously consider running back outside under the pretence of needing to vomit again, just to be alone. Just to take it all in, because right now World, I feel a bit like I am going fucking crazy. I look at him, and then I can’t look at him, so I look away, but then I need to look at him, just to work out what the hell is going on.  Jesus fucking Christ, what am I doing to myself?  “You all right, you freak?” he bumps me with his shoulder and asks me, grinning.  I grin back.

“Oh yeah.”

“Been sick?”

“Just a bit.”


“Fuck you.”


I punch him in the arm and he groans in mock pain.  “You can’t even punch properly anymore, you’re too fucking skinny!”

“Oh shut up twat face.”

“You’re too weak,” he laughs, and I think he has that lovely happy sloppy drunk look on his face, and his body is all loose and silly as he picks up my arm and tries to make me punch myself.  “Look, look! There’s no strength in that!” He holds my fist and wiggles it around.  “What is that?  What is it for?  You pathetic little specimen!”

“I could kick your skinny arse any day of the week,” I retort, pulling my hand out of his.  Josh and Ryan start to laugh.

“Come on then!” Josh tells me.  “Show us what you’re made of!”

“She’s not made of anything, look,” Joe picks up my arm and waves it about stupidly, while giggling like an idiot.  “She’s fading away!”

“Stop it,” I pull my arm away from him, and he picks up his cider and drinks it, grinning broadly.  “Where has Leon gone with my friend, by the way?”

“What?” he lowers his drink.  “I don’t know.  What do you mean?”

I nod at Josh and Ryan.  “They said Leon and Marianne were snogging.  Then disappeared somewhere.”

“Oh.” Joe closes his mouth and looks confused for a moment.  Josh and Ryan are nodding at him.  They seem to have lost the ability to speak.

“Just a bit worried,” I add, watching Joe closely.  “I don’t want him taking advantage of her.”

At this statement, Ryan and Josh swap amazed, wide-eyed looks and then snort loudly with laughter.  I look at them indignantly, and then at Joe.  He looks just as confused as I feel.  “Something funny?” he asks them.

“It’s just I wouldn’t worry about him taking advantage of her,” Josh tells us, wiping his eyes with his hand, his shoulders still shaking with laughter.  “That’s all.”

“Man, that is funny,” Ryan sighs beside him.

“You’re idiots,” I tell them both.  They just laugh at me.  I look back at Joe and poke him in the ribs.  “Think we should find her.”

“Oh god, do we have to?” he groans, closing his eyes and wiping his hand slowly down his face.

“Yes, we have to.  Just to check on her.”

“Oh I don’t want to.  You go.  She’s your weird friend, you go. I’m having fun here.”

“Joe,” I say firmly, taking his arm in both of my hands and pulling him away from the counter.  “I am not confronting your evil brother on my own.  Come on.  Don’t be a wuss all of your life.”

“But I am a wuss,” he protests, as I drag him away.  “That’s what I am!  I like it! I like being a wuss!  Let me just be a wuss please!”

“Come on, stupid.  She might need us.”

“She doesn’t need anyone!” Joe laughs, as we reach the large hallway.  “She’ll be fine!”

“Not with Leon she won’t,” I tell him, although I can’t really explain why I think this.  Maybe they are all right, I wonder, as we check the downstairs rooms for her.  Maybe she is okay with Leon.

“God I really don’t want to do this,” Joe groans again, as I start to head up the stairs, pulling him with me.  “Leon won’t like it.”

“It’s not about him.  I just want to see she is okay, that’s it.  You don’t even have to say a word.”

“But he’ll be pissed off.  He’ll be pissed off anyway.  I really don’t want to piss him off, Lou.”

“Oh stop being such a baby,” I snap at him on the landing, as I try to think where to look and what to do.  “I’m here to protect you aren’t I?”

“He wouldn’t not smack you just because you’re a girl!”  Joe cries out at me in exasperation at the top of the stairs.  He is still smiling slightly, but I can tell he is worked up too.  He is still happy drunk, but bordering on the paranoid drunk.  I sigh and walk over to Marianne’s closed bedroom door.  Joe stands behind me, huffing and puffing with his arms crossed.  I tap on the door nervously.

“Just going to check she is okay,” I repeat again, glancing back at Joe.  He rolls his eyes at me angrily.

“Tried to warn you,” he says softly, just as the door is opened.  I am face to face with Leon, and Joe was right, he does look pissed off.  This is alarming enough, but even more alarming is the fact he has no top on.  I find myself swallowing anxiously, and trying not to let my eyes wander down to his naked chest.

“Hello?” he snaps at me in a typically unfriendly voice.

“Is Marianne with you?” I ask him, trying to peer around him into her room.  “It’s just that I can’t seem to find her anywhere.”

“She’s in here.” He raises his eyebrows at me and closes the door an inch.  I push my face forward.

“Can you tell her I need to speak to her please?”

“What the fuck?”

“It’s urgent,” I plead, as the darkness spreads across his face.  “It’s life and death.  I’ll be so quick.  I just need to talk to her.”

“Not now, okay?” Leon tries to close the door, but I am too quick and get the entire left side of my body in the way of the door.  He looks at me like he would like to kill me, and then flicks his hard eyes to Joe.  “Fucks sake!” he yells.  Joe steps forward.

“Just want to see she is okay,” he explains softly to his brother.

“Marianne!” I call out then.  “Can I talk to you quickly?”

“Look fuck off right?” Leon hisses then, his breath reeking of beer as it smothers my face.  “I’m not kidding.”

“Why won’t you let us speak to her?” I ask him.  “Just let us speak to her and we’ll fucking go!”

“She’s busy,” he snarls, holding onto the door as I try to press through it.  “And I am getting seriously fucked off now.  Come here!” He says this to Joe, beckoning him forward with a curled finger.

“We only want to check she is okay,” Joe says, not moving.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t she be?”

“Because she’s with you, you fucking bully!” I shout into his face.  “Because we don’t trust you!  Because you’re probably some kind of maniac and she is my fucking friend!”

Leon points at Joe.  “Get this bitch out of my face right now or I’m gonna’ lay you out,” he says to him.  I feel Joe slide his hand around my elbow.

“Come on,” he says to me.

“No, no way.  I won’t be bullied by this prick.  Lay me out!” I glare up into his hard-set face.  “If you want to punch someone, why don’t you try me?  Then Marianne will see what you’re really like.  Or why don’t you stop being such a fucking dick for once in your life, and just let us speak to her?”  I am angrier than I thought possible.  He does not scare me.  I am drunk though.  This is what happens when you drink.  You get ridiculously aggressive and sure of yourself, when ordinarily you would just not bother.  I punch the door with my fist, wishing it was his face, wishing he would just let us see her, I mean, what the hell is wrong with him.  I am starting to think he has fucking raped or killed her or something!

Leon calls my bluff then.  He doesn’t punch me, but he does shove me hard.  I nearly land on my arse, but Joe is there to stop me.  Now that he has moved me on, Leon closes the bedroom door behind him and claims his space the way he always does.  He looks like a bear poised to attack.  “Get her out of here,” he says this softly to Joe, who looks like he is about to shit himself.

“Come on,” Joe says to me again.  “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“How can you say that?” I stare at him and cry.  “When he acts like that?  I want to know what the hell he’s done to her in there!”

Joe looks worriedly back at Leon, and tightens his grip on my elbow. “Forget about it, let’s just go.” He doesn’t even look drunk anymore, just miserable and scared, and this angers me even more.  I pull my elbow out of his hand and flick my hair out of my face and glare viciously at Leon. It is like years fall through me then, years of fearing and loathing him, years of seeing the way he treats Joe. It all falls through me and builds me back up brick by brick.

“Let me speak to my friend,” I demand through clenched teeth.  My fists are curled tightly at my sides.  I don’t recall ever feeling this enraged before.  It is the sheer arrogance of him.  The sheer stubborn stupidity that he exists in, day after day.  Can’t he see that if he just let me speak to her, I would leave them to it?

“You’re always interfering aren’t you?” Leon sneers at me, one side of his mouth pulling upwards slightly.  His eyes move to Joe. “Can’t you keep your girlfriend under control?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Joe sighs, with a roll of his eyes.  He crosses his arms and shakes his head at me.  “Come on.

“No,” I say again.  “This is fucking ridiculous.  What has he got to hide?  Just let me speak to her and I’ll go.  How hard is that to understand?  What is the problem?”

“I don’t like being told what to do by bossy little bitches, that’s what the problem is,” Leon informs me calmly, as I seethe in front of him.  I take a step towards Marianne’s door and he moves to block me.

“Fucking idiot!” I shout at him, incensed with frustration. “You just enjoy being a total prick, don’t you?  Your whole life!  A total and utter prick!”

“Okay,” he says then, his voice reasonable.  “Let’s put it this way, you fucked up little cunt.  You shut up and go back downstairs and carry on necking your Alco pops like a good girl, or for every second that you remain in my eyesight shouting the odds, I’m going to give your boyfriend here a good smack.”  He raises his eyebrows and smiles at me triumphantly.  He even laughs.  “What do you think about that?”

I swallow hard.  I do not want to let him beat me.  I have to speak to Marianne.  I just have to.  I narrow my eyes at him and look him up at down.  “I think you are the biggest tosser in the world.  I think you are a dumb, mindless thug.  I think you are an ungrateful shitbag of a brother, and I think I am going to speak to my friend!” I take another step towards the door.  Leon grabs Joe by the shirt, yanks him forward and cuffs him around the head.  I stop.

“Ow!” Joe complains, with both hands on the back of his head.  I blow my angry breath out through my teeth.  I think, I have seen worse.  That was a classic clip round the ear.  A basic reprimand I have seen Lorraine and Mick administer a million times over the years.  Joe is okay.  I duck around Leon suddenly, taking him by surprise, and reach Marianne’s door.  I don’t look back when I hear the sound of Leon slamming his brother back into the wall behind, or the noise Joe makes when all the breath has been punched out of his guts.  I swallow again and wrench open the door and go inside her bedroom.

She is sat at her dressing table, wearing little more than her silky black dressing gown.  The gown is tied loosely at the waist, exposing one breast, and her entire right leg, all the way up to the thigh.  I can see the dozens of tiny scars that stand out across her creamy skin.  She looks up at me in alarm, and at first I see guilt and fear etched across her face, but then her face relaxes, and she just smiles.  She is chopping up lines of white powder across her desk with her own special razor blade.  How fitting.  I let the door close softly.  I can hear the thumps and thuds of Leon punishing Joe on the landing, and a chant has started up of  ‘fight, fight, fight, fight!’

I just stare at her.  I am drunk and angry, and she is drunk and reckless, and I shake my head, at her, and at the white powder she is playing with like a child with matches.

“So that’s why he didn’t want to let me in,” I say to her softly, my shoulders dropping.  Marianne throws her head back and laughs, and then looks back down at the powder and continues to chop it up, organising it deftly into neat, white lines.

“I told him you wouldn’t exactly care,” she laughs and shrugs.

“Well then you don’t know me at all,” I tell her, my voice emotionless.  “And it looks like I don’t know you at all either.”

“Well isn’t that the truth about everyone?” she answers, looking back at me with a wide and hungry smile, her eyes shining with delight.

“Maybe it is.”

“Oh it is,” she laughs.  “It really is.  You want some?”

“No chance,” I say bitterly, looking at her in disgust.  “I wouldn’t touch that shit if you paid me.  You have no idea the shit Joe and me have gone through because of that crap.  We’re both sick of it.”

“No one forced you,” she says easily.  “No one put a gun to your head.  Everyone makes their own choices for their own reasons Lou.”

“Yeah, and Leon is beating the crap out of Joe right now out there, because of you!” I say this angrily, but also guiltily, and I know I have to go.  “I’ll talk to you later,” I tell her, my hand on the doorknob.  “You’re obviously completely fine.  I don’t know why I even bothered worrying.”

“Because you are a good friend Lou,” Marianne tells me in a sunny voice, her eyes on the desk.  She does not look up as I leave the room and close the door behind me.  On the landing, there is a crowd of kids watching and cheering as Leon and Joe roll around on the floor together.  I wade through, telling them all to get the fuck out of the way, and I reach in to the blur of fists and red faces and grab Joe by the arm.  The fight breaks up as Leon gets to his feet, grinning and panting.  Joe stays on the floor, and drops his head into the space between his knees.  I look up at Leon with all the fury and disgust I can muster.  I am glad to see his bottom lip is bleeding.

“Go on go back to her you fucking bastard,” I hiss at him from the floor.  “Go back and leave us alone if you want us to keep your secrets for you!”

Leon just turns slowly on his heels, broad and arrogant and full of himself as always.  He laughs, and his wide shoulders shake with it as he heads back to Marianne.  The crowd breaks up too.  Slouched shoulders disappear down the stairs, murmuring and chuckling.  I sit on the floor and put my arm around Joe.

“I’m really sorry,” I tell him quietly.  “I had to see she was okay.”

Joe snorts a little laugh through his nose and lifts his head to look at me.  His nose is bleeding, and there are two little tracks of red running down into his mouth.  I look into his eyes then, and I want to grab his poor face with both of my hands, just the way Travis did with mine.  I want to hold his face as if I am holding china.  I want to press my lips onto his and taste his blood.  “And was she?” he asks me, and I can see the genuine concern in his eyes and my heart lurches against my chest and smashes into tiny little pieces yet again.  I wonder how many times I can go through the same endless confusing emotions and urges.  I wonder helplessly if I will ever make any sense of it.  I lift a finger and use it to gently push back his hair, which is covering his eyes.  I watch him smile.

“She’s sat at the desk,” I sigh.  “Cutting up lines of coke.  That’s why he wanted to keep us out.”

The realisation hits Joe, and I can see he is as surprised as me.  “Oh,” he says slowly.  “That’s why.”

“I know,” I say, and drop my arm away from his shoulders.  “How stupid are we?”

“Pretty fucking stupid.”

“Pretty fucking drunk.”

“Me too.  Oh fuck man…” Joe rubs the heel of one hand into his eye, and then slides it around to the back of his head where he rubs it back and forth.  “My head really hurts.”

“Need more booze?”

“That might help, yeah.”

“He’s a fucking bastard, that cunt.” I shake my head at the closed bedroom door.  “For so many reasons.  I could write out at least one hundred reasons why he is a fucking bastard cunt.”  Joe looks at me and laughs.  I nod at him.  “Latest editions to the list being him seducing a sixteen year old girl and plying her with illegal drugs.”

“Well I don’t think she needing much seducing,” Joe says, still rubbing slowly at his head.  “You didn’t see her all over him like a rash.”

“Do you know that really surprises me?” I ask, looking at him.  “I just never saw her like that before, you know?  All sexy and seductive.  I never thought she was like that.”

“I don’t think we know her very well.”

“No, we don’t, you’re right.  I’ve been thinking that a lot lately.”  I get up then and hold my hand out to Joe.  He takes it and climbs awkwardly to his feet.  He looks wrecked and knackered and yawns widely.  “Let’s leave them to it then,” I shrug at the closed bedroom door.  “She obviously knows what she’s doing.”

“Yeah, come on, fuck ‘em,” he agrees and heads for the stairs. “They deserve each other.”

One thought on “The Mess Of Me:Chapter 21

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