Doing five more shots after my little tiff with Janice wasn’t my wisest decision and I am paying for it this morning. I’ve been popping Tylenol like it’s going out of style and I’ve drank so much water I feel like puking. My sunglasses aren’t doing much to block out the pain of the bright sun and driving probably isn’t the best idea but after everything that went down last night I can’t just sit around my apartment.

I’m nearing Justin’s house before it crosses my mind that I should call him and see if it’s okay that I come over. Sometimes I forget that I can’t just pop in whenever I feel like it like I used to. It’s hard to break old habits.

“Laina.”

I smile at the grave greeting he gives me after the third ring. “Justin,” I say, trying to make my voice as serious as his but the giggle that escapes me ruins it. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“Are you at home?”

“I wouldn’t dare venture out into the sunlight,” he replies.

“I’m coming over.” I pause at the silence on the other end of the line. “Is that okay?”

“You’re already almost here, aren’t you?”

I really do sometimes think he’s psychic. Either that or he just knows me way too well. “Yeah. Open the gate.”

He utters a short, “Fine,” and then hangs up the phone. He’s never been one to draw out a conversation on the phone.

The gate to the house is wide open and I don’t cut my speed going through. My car makes a strange noise when I slam on the breaks to avoid hitting the garage door and I wince a bit. I should be gentler with it considering how old it is. My biggest fear is one day I’m going to be in the middle of the freeway and my car will break down.

I test the front door and have to ring the doorbell when I find it locked. I used to have a key to his house but he asked for it back a month ago. I have a sneaking suspicion that Janice made him get it back. He had never seemed to care before that that we were broken up and I still had his key.

The lock is disengaged and I open the door and am met with the back of Justin’s body as he walks further into his house. I kick off my flip flops and take a minute to greet his dog before walking in the direction he disappeared to. I find him in the den. The lights are all off and only a few rays of sunlight are coming in through the drawn blinds. Justin’s sprawled out on the couch, one leg dangling off the edge onto the floor.

“Why’re you here?” he mumbles when I sit down on the coffee table in front of him.

Deciding we’re at a safe level of lighting, I move my sunglasses onto the top of my head, pushing my hair back with them. “I came to talk about last night.”

He lifts the arm covering his eyes to look at me briefly before laying it back down. “You mean about how you slapped my girlfriend?”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, about that.”

He says nothing and I realize that I’m going to have to be the instigator of this conversation.

“It’s not like I meant to hit her,” I start. “But she was standing there tearing me apart. She called me white trash!”

A groan escapes him. “Why do you care what she thinks of you?”

“I don’t.” Okay, maybe the tiniest part of me cares but I’d never admit that. “She was provoking me though. It’s not like I just attacked her. She freaking had it coming.”

Justin’s mouth twitches a bit and I know he’s trying to hold back a smile. I almost thought it was going to break out but he managed to contain it and put his lips back in a straight line.

“You got out of hand last night.”

I let out a frustrated breath of air. “Maybe a little but she provoked me.”

He drops his arm to his side and pulls himself up to a sitting position. He drops his head and rubs his hands over the back of his neck.

“Why can’t you guys just get along?” he mutters, sounding completely exhausted.

“Hey, I never had a problem with her before that day she told me my dog smelled like vomit,” I say, defending myself.

He doesn’t look up. “Your dog DOES smell like vomit.”

“He’s old! Give him a break. Besides, when you’ve known a person for one week, that’s really not something you should say. You know as well as I do that she’s always hated me. From the very first moment you introduced me as your ‘ex girlfriend’.”

He finally lifts his head to glance at me. “She just has trouble understanding how we’re still friends after breaking up.”

“What’s so hard to understand? It’s called being a grown up.”

He sighs. “She just doesn’t get it, okay? I’ve tried explaining it to her over and over but she still thinks you have some kind of ulterior motive.”

I arch an eyebrow and cross my arms over my chest. “Well that’s a problem on her part.”

He simply shrugs.

“And has she failed to notice that I have a boyfriend?” I ask. “So apparently not only am I white trash but I’m a cheater too?”

He stands up and walks across the room. “Shit, Laina. Give it up.”

Rolling my eyes, I transfer myself onto the now vacant spot on the couch. “I’ve decided that I’m going to be the bigger person and apologize for last night. The lack of phone calls from Janice makes me think that she’s not going to take that first step.”

“Well you’re the one who hit her not the other way around.”

“For all this fuss did I at least leave a mark?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I regret them. THINK before you talk, Laina. Seriously! “Sorry, I take that back.”

It’s quiet for too long and I open an eye to see that I’m alone in the room. Figures. Pissing Justin off never leads to heartwarming conversations. He’ll just storm off and sulk it out for an hour.

Feeling like I haven’t officially overstayed my welcome yet, I sink deeper into the leather cushions of the couch and shut my eyes. I’m just drifting off to sleep when my foot is poked.

“Laina, Babydoll.”

Every time I see Trace he has a new term of endearment for me. It’s usually cute until he gets creative and starts making them particularly vulgar.

“Still sleeping it off?”

I roll onto my back and stare up at him. “No. I pissed off Justin so I’m letting him have his half hour time out.”

“I didn’t even see him on my way in.”

Is it wrong that I’m jealous that Trace has a key to the house when I don’t? “Hmm.”

“How’d you piss him off? Wait, let me guess. It was about you putting Janice in her place.”

That makes me smile. Trace has more tolerance for Justin’s girlfriend than I do but not by much. I like to think that I am Trace’s favorite ex girlfriend of Justin. He’s always seemed to be pretty fond of me.

“Maybe.”

He grabs my hand and gives it a yank, pulling me up from the couch. “She had it coming. I only wish I had been there to see it.”

“You were too busy macking on that girl all night to notice much of anything.”

He gives a sheepish grin and shrugs. “Well she was hot.”

“Besides, it was hardly anything. Justin and Pete came out right after I slapped her and that was the end of it.”

Trace starts laughing. “You should have seen Janice after that. She was screaming her head off about it until Justin agreed to leave with her. Funniest shit ever.”

I smile a bit and shake my head. “Sorry I missed that.” I stretch my arms over my head, stepping back when Trace pokes me in the stomach. “Think I can take a shower? I feel gross.”

He shrugs. “Not my house. Go for it.”

Trace’s permission is all I need and fifteen minutes later, I’m stepping out of the shower in a bathroom on the main floor and wrapping a towel around myself. I dry myself off and put my clothes back on and then exit the bathroom, towel drying my hair on my way upstairs.

The door to Justin’s room is closed and I knock once before cautiously turning the door handle and push the door open a bit. “Can I come in?”

“You pretty much already are.”

I smile and step fully into the room. Justin’s lying on his bed, watching TV on the large plasma screen mounted on the wall. His eyes go from me back to the TV but then finally focus on me.

“Did you just shower here?”

Can’t really lie about it when my hair is still dripping. “Downstairs.”

He shakes his head and then turns his eyes back to the TV. “You really shouldn’t be doing that.”

I drop the towel on the floor and sit down on the corner of the bed, leaning back against one of the bed frame posts. “Then tell me to not do it again.”

He doesn’t but instead just sighs. I pick at the edge of my frayed jeans and for a minute the only sound in the room is coming from the TV. I finally look up at him.

“I do feel bad for slapping Janice,” I say.

He doesn’t look away from the TV but I know he’s listening so I continue.

“I’m going to call and apologize.”

He looks at me when I say those words. “Why don’t you just let me tell her. She might not take too kindly to hearing your voice at this point.”

I shrug. “Okay. Just tell her I’m sorry for hitting her. And maybe mention that I thought she looked very pretty last night.”

The corner of Justin’s mouth turns up into a half smile. “Besides the red handprint on her face?”

My eyes widen a bit. “Oh…oops?”

He shakes his head and a small chuckle comes out that I know he tried to suppress. It makes me grin. He can only be serious for too long and he’s never been able to stay mad at me. That’s probably one of the only reasons we stayed together as long as we did.

“Don’t you dare ever tell anyone I said this but she probably did kind of deserve it just a little bit.”

My smile widens and I give a satisfied nod. Justin’s not a complete idiot. He knows that Janice can be a bitch.

“Either way I still feel bad.”

Justin shuts off the television and focuses his eyes on me. “I don’t think you’re white trash, by the way.”

I begin to laugh and it’s a minute before I can respond. “You’re not one to date a girl who is white trash so I wasn’t too worried.”

An easy smile comes over his face and he leans back against the headboard and simply stares at me for a moment. It used to make me uncomfortable when he did this but I’ve gotten used to it.

“Ever think that maybe if the planets lined up in just the right order us dating again would work?”

My first reaction is to be shocked at his words but seeing the playful glint in his eye, I merely return his smile with a smirk of my own.

“Maybe one day, J-star.”