Promises Made, Promises Broken - SYTYCW (Bad Reputation)

Present Day (Chapter Seven) Sunday

Joey

At four in the morning, my alarm went off, reminding me that if I had been sleeping, it would be time to get up and make my way out to my truck for my trip to the cemetery.  I was awake when it went off but I pressed snooze anyway.  I was always awake went it went off, but this insomnia was different somehow.  Better, if that was possible.  I hadn't been feeling quite as much dread as I usually did, though the steady build-up was still there.  That wasn't the biggest difference, though.  My ever present, darker memories had been pushed aside in lieu of thoughts of the redhead.

Running into her in the bar proved how little self-control I had around her, and I relayed the scene over and over again in my head.  

I hadn't been drinking, of course, and the raucous environment was a little tougher to take than I wanted to admit.  I was about to give up and go home when my gaze landed on her.

She was wearing an incredibly short, denim skirt that showed off the fair skin on her legs perfectly.  I noted that her ankle was wrapped - badly - and it made her look more vulnerable than she had the other times we'd crossed paths.  I forced my eyes up, and my throat went a little dry.  Her shirt was pale pink, and tight, and hugged the soft curve of her breasts in a tantalizing way.  I was so distracted by the way she looked that I almost didn't notice that she and the tall, blonde girl she was holding onto, were headed right for our table.  As she got closer, I could see that she was smiling.  Something about her face made me think she wasn't thrilled about being there any more than I was.  I sat back and waited for her to notice me, anticipated the irritated look on her face when she saw me there, but she didn't turn my way at all.  I sat there with a surly expression on my face as the girl sipped a green beer, feeling annoyed that I could be that invisible to her.  Again.

Did she sense something about my intentions that made her block me out? 

I brushed off the idea.  At the best of times, my intentions weren't pure, and it had never hindered my luck with girls before.  In fact, it sometimes worked to my advantage.  They wanted to fix me.

I was pretty sure that this particular girl wasn't like most who came under my radar.  She seemed bright.  Witty.  

Incredible.

I examined her face.  She looked mildly uncomfortable, but not miserable, and I suspected that the girl she'd come with had talked her into coming to the bar, just as my friends had talked me into it.  I couldn't help but wonder what she normally did with her Saturday nights.  Read?  Play Internet solitaire?

Go on dates? 

I made myself look away, and that's when I saw the wannabe stuffed shirt from the City Hall meeting.  He was near the stage, swaying to the music with no discernible rhythm.

I glanced back at the redhead.  Her expression was still relatively neutral, and I knew that she hadn't spied him yet.

I stood up quickly, knocking over someone's drink in the process.

"Yo, Joey! Where's the fire?"

I slapped down a hundred dollar bill and muttered, "Sorry, man. Drinks are on me."

I was determined to intercept any interaction between Mark-the-Intern and the girl.  I wasn't quick enough.  She was already stumbling toward him and he was smiling a self-assured smile.  I watched, immobilized, as he embraced her in a familiar way and left his hands on her body.  I wanted to break every one of his fingers.

And then she was trying to step back, and he was trying to kiss her and I was moving again, spurred by barely controlled rage.  I grabbed her first, using the feel of her to calm my temper.