It took me a week, but I finally decided to swallow my pride and go back to my bar. Just because I slept with Justin fucking Timberlake didn't mean that I couldn't reclaim my life at some point. This had been my bar before I made that horrible decision and it would be my bar after. I would go back to rolling my eyes at the poor, young girls he seduced nightly. I would go back to flipping him off when he winked at me suggesting I be the next girl to go home with him. I would go back to shit talking him with my friends. I would just never go back to his house.

Furthermore, I would never even talk to him again. And after I got the test results on the STD mega test back, I would never even think of him again. He would only exist to me as a form of birth control now. 

The bartender knowingly had a gin and tonic waiting for me when I claimed a stool. 

"It's been a minute, Lucy."

I smiled politely and stirred my drink. All of the energy I had at the start of my day had been spent at work and I didn't even know if I was able to move my lips at this point.  I wanted to literally lay my head down on the bar from exhaustion, but I stopped myself.  I felt like this a lot lately. Tired. I wasn't sure if it was my job or the drugs, but one seemed to be the catalyst for the other. I needed to take my drugs so that I had it in me to show up every day for work, but I needed to show up every day for work so I could afford the drugs.

It was a real bitch of a catch 22.

As I scanned the room, I realized I knew pretty much everyone in the room. I didn't feel comforted by this fact, I felt annoyed. This town needs some new people. Or I need to get out of it.

"Well, I'll be. Look everyone, It's Lucy May. She must be back from the dead."

I didn't even need to turn around to match the voice with the face. It was the voice I had been afraid to hear since the last time I heard it a week ago. When I woke up in his bed naked. When I refused to eat his scrambled eggs. When I left his house while his back was turned without so much as a goodbye. 

When he got no reaction from me, he went a step further and sat in the stool next to me. It was getting more difficult to ignore him, but not completely impossible. I tried to cover how anxious I felt by looking bored. I stirred my drink faster and hoped he'd spot some busty blonde across the room and decide to pay her his attention. He had more of a chance of sleeping with her tonight.

It wasn't that I hated him. It was just that I was embarrassed. Despite living in this town my whole life, the only reputation I had was being a bit of a bitch. I was not ready to add whore to that. I would like to have picked up something in the middle of the alphabet before I skipped right to the W's. I had only ever slept with serious boyfriends. I wasn't a prude, but I wasn't a dumbass either. Word travels fast in a small town and my name was going to be a hot topic when word got out about our sexcapade. Some would be envious, some would be jealous, and most would be severely confused, but either way everyone was going to have an opinion. I was hoping he was keeping quiet and it seemed that so far he had, but him sitting so close to me in a bar was definitely going to stir some curiosity. Maybe he was even taking this moment as a public opportunity to inform the town of last weeks events.  It was times like these I wished I was stronger, so that I could punch him and it might actually hurt.

"It's not polite to ignore someone, Belle. I know your mama taught you better than that."

Clever. He thought he was being clever. And by the tone of his voice, he was proud of himself for it. Well, I wasn't giving up. I was going to keep on ignoring him. He can keep using that stupid nickname all damn night long. Besides, he didn't know nothing about my mama. She wasn't from the south like I was, anyhow. She was born and raised in Wisconsin and she could have taught me to ignore people. That was totally possible. Justin had probably never even been to Wisconsin and I know he has never met my mama so he'd never know. Then I could just blame my rude habits on her and get off the hook. I am a product of my environment. 

Although, I suspect my mama would like to think she taught me better than to have sex with boys from bars. I have no excuse for that one. Other than the drugs, of course. I've been trying to and not trying to piece that night together since it happened. Somethings I remember very clearly, like Justin taking up for me at the bar and giving him a few hits of my stuff. Other things keep popping into my mind randomly and inconveniently, like the sex. I'm not sure which of us physically initiated it and that killed me. I would like to think it was him. I would like to think I was at least somewhat innocent in this.

But the things we did in that bed of his, well, they sure as hell weren't innocent. And if I'm going to be really honest, and since I'm not actually saying this out loud, I feel like I can be somewhat honest, the sex was really, really good. Better than good, even. I will let the drugs take credit for a good portion of that, but I have to admit that the boy had moves. And strong hands. Very strong, sturdy hands. Then again, with as much practice as he had, he better be good. Whenever I think about it (and believe me, I try not to think about it), I feel this tingling sensation all over. Like I'm a damn teenager who just had sex for the firs time. It's horrible. 

"Hey!" I yelled quickly in response to my drink slipping from my grasp and being drained by someone else's lips. So much for my silent treatment.

"I'm helping you out." He winked at me.

The bastard fucking winked at me.

"That was my first drink!" I yelled loudly and defensively. I knew I should be quiet so as not to cause anymore attention on the two of us, but I was upset. His arrogance was pissing me off. The fact that he was still sitting here was pissing me off. The fact that he got to me was pissing me off.

"Oh, come on Lucy May, that was not your first drink." He laughed dryly.

"At this bar," I mumbled. ". .You didn't let me finish." I looked away, defeated. He caught me. 

"Well, then I will definitely buy you another. Honesty should be rewarded." He motioned to the bartender for another gin and tonic and looked at me slyly from the corner of his eye. He was trying to get a reaction out of me and I was completely aware of it, but my temper was getting the best of me.

"Don't you have some sluts to fuck, Justin? Go away." I hissed under my breath. You should never sleep with people you hate. They will be around every corner trying to remind you of it. This is my own personal hell.

"Ouch, Lucy May, my heart. Besides, those sluts can wait. I'm trying to get to know my new friend here." He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his chest for added emphasis. I could literally feel my cheeks go red. Everyone in this room knows we slept together now. I just know it. They know my knack for biting lips and that he prefers women on top. Well, to be fair, nearly everyone in this room had probably been on top of Justin at some point so they already knew that, but they knew nothing about me. Until now. 

"We've known each other for years, Justin. Get off of me." I whispered harshly. My eye darted quickly around the room praying no one saw.

"But now we really know each other." I didn't miss the fact that he emphasized the word 'really' a bit too much. He was reminding me that we had sex. As if I could ever fucking forget it.

I was refining a snarky comeback and a way to get Justin's arms off of my shoulder when somebody beat me to it. 

"Woah Timberlake, hands off. Lucy's a lady, you know?" Taylor, arguably my best friend in this town, swatted Justin's arms away from me while she wrapped her own around my shoulders. 

Justin picked up his beer and took a drink slowly, "Do I know that?" He was looking right into my eyes, challenging me. He was trying so hard to remind me of that night, but I won't be pulled into this game. I am playing dumb.  I have forgotten everything. I have amnesia. I am a soap opera character. 

Before I was only assuming people were listening because, well, we're in the south, but now I am absolutely sure someone is listening. I want to kick him off the stool he's sitting in, but I'm a few drinks in and would most likely end up missing. Instead, I'm going to sit here and pray he falls off on his own. And then I am going to find  a way to take credit for it.  

In the back of my mind, I know Taylor will never suspect anything would actually go down between Justin and me but that doesn't end the paranoia. It isn't that I hate the kid, I just think he's a joke. Taylor feels the same way and since we frequent bars more than we frequent most anywhere else, we have plenty of chances to talk about this subject. Taylor may be my best friend around here, but I still wouldn't tell her this. She wouldn't understand. Hell, I don't even understand. Sure, I was high, but even that's not a good enough excuse. She would tease me mercilessly, but then she would probably high five me. She's not fond of him, but she will admit to herself and out loud that she thinks he is attractive. That's something I wouldn't do.

Well.

That's something I wouldn't have done. Unless I was out of my mind high and in the passenger seat of his car right after he had threatened a man in the verge of feeling me up.

Damnit. I had almost blocked out that I had called him handsome. 

"Lucy, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Taylor ever so elegantly asks me as she gently punches my shoulder, "Use some of that frustrating sarcasm to call his ass out like usual. Oh, you know what, forget it. I have party favors!" She quickly waves a small plastic bag filled with white powder in front of my eyes.

My eyes light up quickly. It looks like salvation. It looks like a way out of this conversation. It looks like a way to actually be able to have fun for the rest of the night.

It looks like cheap cocaine.

Taylor never springs for the good stuff. I grab the bag and shove it into my pocket before anyone else could see it.  Although, I will admit, being caught with coke is far less embarrassing to me than being caught having sex with Justin Timberlake. I will just get more jail time for the former.

As I slip off the stool, Justin looks like he's going to say something to me. As quickly as the thought enters my head it's gone because he is now practically inhaling his beer. For the second time in a week, I walk away from him without saying bye. I also walked away from him by leaving him with the tab.

Whoops. 

I can definitely say I've never done that before.