The Love Sucks Club by Beth Burnett

rent.”
    “And I was your first thought as a benevolent benefactor?”
    “I know you’ve got some stashed away.”
    “It’s what I live on when the royalties aren’t enough.”
    “Your house is paid for. You don’t drink. You don’t have any
credit card bills. If you loan me, say, five thousand dollars, I can pay you
back at five hundred a month. That’s more than enough to cover expenses and
you’ll be paid off within the year.”
    “And have you given a thought to how you’re going to shell out an
additional five hundred a month when you can’t make your expenses right now?”
    “I’ve stopped going to the bar. That’s more than five hundred a
month right there.”
    Laughing, I look at her incredulously. “I just saw you coming out
of a bar.”
    Pursing her lips, she shakes her head. “I went in to drop
something off. I wasn’t there drinking.”
    “Whatever. And even if you’re not lying, how long will that last?”
I spit her name out in disgust, practically choking on the words. “Seriously. When we were together, I had to fight with you
every day to keep you out of the bars because you were draining my bank
account. Every time I turned around, you were buying shots for the bar. Fuck.
If I had been counting on you to actually pay the rent that we agreed on, I’d
have lost my house.”
    Her fingers are gripping the steering wheel and the wrinkles
around her mouth are getting more pronounced. When she speaks, she measures out
each word in an attempt to sound as though she’s not losing her cool. “If we’re
going to start making a laundry list of our past transgressions, give me a
second to compile yours.”
    “It would take more than a second, I’m sure.” Trying to diffuse
the situation, I resort to joking, as usual.
    She allows a fleeting smile to cross her mouth. “Well, we both
know you’re perfect.”
    “Perfectly awesome,” I grin. “It’s hard to be me sometimes.”
    “Indeed.”
    “So, are you going to loan me the money?”
    Slipping my hand into the door handle, I am halfway out of the car
before she reaches out to grab me. I manage to yank my hand out of her reach.
“No, I’m not. I don’t have the kind of income that allows me to just throw
money away. Giving money to you would be dumb. Giving money to you and
expecting repayment would be beyond stupidity.”
    She makes another grab for my hand, but misses again. “Dammit, Dana. I’m in a lot of trouble here. I’m going to
end up homeless.”
    “Oh come on. I’m sure you have enough friends that you can find a
couch to sleep on.”
    “Mandy won’t be anxious to share someone’s couch.”
    “Oh, I’m sure Mandy will not have any trouble finding a place to
live if you get kicked out of your apartment.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    I glance back into the car and for a brief second, I’m tempted to
tell her what I saw on the dance floor. It’s really none of my business and I
don’t owe her anything. Slamming the door without answering, I take a few quick
steps toward the sidewalk, listening for her car door. I don’t want to look
back and give her the satisfaction of knowing that she’s rattled me. Walking
down the street, I hear her engine directly behind me. There’s no traffic, so
she can keep pace with me as long as she wants. Yet again, I almost wish I had
a car. She’s staying out of my peripheral vision, but I can hear the vehicle. I
can cut across to the busier market street, but to do so, I have to cross in
front of her. If I take a turn up one of the next alleys, I’ll end up in a more
secluded and seedier section of town. My ex revs the engine a bit, just in case
I didn’t know she was there. I’m trying to present a nonchalant stance because
I don’t want to let her know that she’s getting to me. This is her M.O.,
pushing and pushing until she gets her way. I’m not afraid of her, but her
intimidation tactics can be a little unnerving. I don’t know who would win in a
fair