One For The Road

32: Thought

"Tell me literally everything. Start at the beginning. Was it romantic?" Annie looked up at the ceiling and let out a breath. "I bet it was so romantic."

"Not really. I just told him I was tired of the flirty bullshit and kissed him. Nothing spectacular," I replied.

I left out the part when we fought for a solid forty-eight hours. We were past that, and everything was gonna be so fucking good.

"You kissed him? Hell yeah, girl. Hell yeah." Annie laughed. "Can you tell I'm really excited for you? There's nothing better than a new relationship."

I laughed. "You're such a romantic to the point where it's ridiculous. And anyway, we're just going to see where this goes and have a little fun. I'm not looking for a goddamn husband, that's for sure."

Annie rose her eyebrows. "He knows that, right?"

"Of course he does."

"Okay. I just don't want him to get hurt. He's a few years older than you, and what he wants is a little different than what you want."

I blinked a couple times. "That's fucking ridiculous. You can't think like that in a brand new relationship."

"If you think I'm a romantic, Drake's about a thousand times worse. Most of the time, he covers it up with Sacrilege, but—"

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" I interrupted.

He kept insisting that we were two different people, but for fuck's sake, maybe the main difference was that I wasn't emotionally insane. I grimaced at the thought. How could I be with someone who was crazier than me? How the fuck would that possibly work?

I took in a breath. Of course, I was hearing all of this from Annie, whose boyfriend pretty much refused to marry her. It sure as hell wasn't the most reliable, unbiased source.

And even if Drake was already thinking that far ahead, as long as he didn't tell me, who the fuck cared?

We were gonna be so fucking good, and no one was gonna ruin that for me. I had plenty of shit ruined for me, and if anyone was gonna destroy this relationship, it was going to be me and only me. Or maybe Drake.

"You know what? I'll keep that in mind. We'll see where this goes," I said.

"If you want, I'll talk to him and make sure he knows where you're coming from. I don't want either one of you to get hurt," Annie said.

I shook my head. "We can handle this. Thank you though."

She nodded, then looked up at the mural she had painted while Drake, Josiah, and I were in Cleveland. "Do you think her nose is crooked?"

"I like it. It looks kinda like a combination of you and me. That's what our daughter would look like."

Annie laughed. "Glad to see she inherited my pink hair."

"So what are you going to do?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You feel like that," I pointed up to the painting where our daughter was trapped, "so how are you going to get out of it?"

"I don't—" she stammered. "I can't—"

"Is that really the lesson you want to teach our kid? Look at her. She's young and impressionable."

"It's just a painting, Katie. It doesn't mean anything."

I let out an annoyed laugh. "I think the fuck not. You're not happy with your life right now. How are you going to fix that?"