FicWad

24. "It just gets worse and the worst just gets the best of us"



Later that day my cell phone rang. It was Andy. Picking up or not picking up that was the- ah, fuck you, Will.

I accepted the call, "Hey, Andy."

"Sheena, I need to talk to you."

"How unconventional of you to call me then."

How stupid of me.

"I can understand that you´re mad at me... but please, let me explain."

I sat down on my couch. Did I even have the right to be angry with him? Probably not. Ah, fuck you, reality check.

"Sheena?"

"I´m still there. Commence."

"Ok, here it goes," Andy sighed before continuing, "The thing with Fox is, I was lonely and she was lonely." I´m the personification of lonliness, you fool. "It doesn´t mean anything... we´re just... friends with benefits or something."

"I understand."

I didn´t understand what he was talking about.

"You do?" he asked.

"Just why... What was that in the garage then?"

I heard him sigh loudly again, "You just caught me off guard there. I don´t know... I´ve been really lonely lately." The impression grew on me that he was confusing lonliness with horniness. Hm, welcome to the club. "And that moment it just seemed like a good idea to kiss you, then Joe walked in."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Looking back, I mean, I´m glad he and Patrick walked in on us. It wouldn´t have been a good idea, Sheena. I mean we´re in one band. It would ruin everything. Imagine this wouldn´t work out. Our friendship would be ruined."

Seeing him with Fox (kinda) didn´t really strenghthen our friendship either.

"I just got caught up in a moment of silliness in the garage. I´m so sorry, Sheena. I know you like me. I feel so bad about what happened."

"I feel bad too, Andy."

"If there´s anything that I can d-"

Why not tell him how much he hurt me? I interrupted him, "I feel bad because you give me the impression that I´m not good enough for you. Not even good enough to give me the chance for one single date. It´s not like you would have died going to the movies or out for dinner with me, you know? I can be pretty amusing at times, I´ve got my moments. I don´t even know why I like you anymore. You´re a real asshole."

Silence.

"I know," Andy finally said. "Can I make it up to you somehow?"

"Yes, that you can, Andy. Don´t be nice to me. Stop being so FUCKING NICE to me. Just make me wanna drown you in a swimming pool of bovine intestines. I wanna get over you!"

Then I felt the tears running down my cheeks and I hung up. The self-imagine tough bassist Sheena wanted to promote does not include crying like a little baby.

One minute later I received a text message:
That´s exactly what I wanted to avoid. Sad thing is we didn´t have a go at it and still things are screwed up.
Please let me know when you´ve forgiven me. You do mean a lot to me, you know. Asshole Andy

_ _ _ _ _


You don´t have to be a wise woman to figure out that I wasn´t in the mood to talk to Andy anytime soon. You don´t even have to have a brain to figure that out. But then again, you´d be Andy.

He called me a couple of times during the next two days but eventually gave up on day three. That´s when Patrick called. (I have the slight notion that Andy told him to talk to me and put in a good word for him. Stupid Broccoli Boy.)

Patrick and I talked on the phone for a while. He told me that he had been out with Joyce several times, dinner and movies. They had kissed but that was as far as it had gone. Judge me, if you must, but I was feeling a bit envious of him and how things were working out for him and Joyce. At least one Hurley did not take advantage of another person´s feeling for them. I guess I should mentally apologize to Joyce for having suspected her of something that her Tofu Tart brother was obviously more prone to do.

Alright, cross that off my list of things to do today.

"Sheena? Are you listening to me?" Patrick checked on me.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry I just had my thoughts elsewhere..."

"Just a thought. Do you want to go to a college party with me and Joyce tonight? Maybe it will take your thoughts off of Andy for a second."

"It´s ´Joyce and I´."

Patrick laughed, "Sure, teacher... So do you?"

"Nah. Not really."

"Too bad. I´m picking you up in an hour," he hung up.

Ha. That didn´t automatically make me accompany them.

_ _ _ _ _


"We´re in hell is Joyce?" Patrick glanced at his watch nervously. "We were supposed to meet her here half an hour ago."

She wasn´t answering her cell either.

"Let´s go inside. Maybe she´s already in the house."

We got out of the car and went inside. Yes, Joyce had already been in the house. So had Pete. Attached to her lips, slow dancing.

I stared at Patrick staring the two of them. They didn´t notice us. Patrick adjusted his hat, then he turned to me, "Let´s go." We went outside again and got into the car.

Starting the engine I said, "I´m sorry, Patrick."

"It´s not your fault."

I pulled out of the driveway onto the street, "Do you wanna grab a burger or something?"

"Sure, just let me pick up the shreds of what used to be my heart real quick," Patrick pulled a face.

"Geez, I thought melodrama was a girls´ thing." I guess I was being mean because I knew that was gonna happen sooner or later. (At this point I would like my mental apology back from Joyce.) It´s called common sense and it comes in handy sometimes. It´s just not available all of the time, for instance not when you fall in love with a good-for-nothing drummer.

All of a sudden he was really furious, "For God´s sake, Sheena! Cut the crap. I feel like shit already."

I said nothing.

"Just take me home," Patrick huffed.

I pulled myself together and made a straight face, "I´m sorry this happened but it´s not my fault." Repetition?

Patrick fumbled around with his cap angrily. Could that dude just refrain from fingering his head wear for more than 10 minutes?

"You never really gave us a chance. You didn´t think I could keep her," he blurted out.

"What does that have to do with what just happened? Do you think I master the art of vodoo?" I shot him an angry look. "Don´t you think Andy would be in this car instead of you then? Think about it, stupid."

"One would think that somebody in your situation could relate to me. Just because you are miserable doesn´t mean that you have the right to destroy other people´s -"

"Other people´s unrealistic daydreams, Patrick?", I spat out. "It´s not like Joyce would have considered a serious relationship with you if Pete hadn´t come around. Wake up!" Three seconds passed and I felt sorry already. A new record.

I glanced at him and he looked me straight into the eyes. I swear I could hear his heart breaking. (That or I had just run over a family of pervertedly oversized cockroaches.) I swallowed. I wished he would say something hurtful back to me. But he just sat there and looked at me, then at his feet. He raised his hand to his cap but then paused. "Stop the car," he said.

"Don´t be ridiculous, Patrick. I´m taking you home. We´re almost there anyway."

"STOP THE GODDAMN CAR!"

I stopped the goddamn car. He got out and walked away.

I made my way to my apartment and started crying. I cried for Patrick, for having augmented his pain and I cried for myself.