Cowgirls Don't Cry

Ch 22

Lynn

The next week was a blur. I avoided Kip as best I could, which was extremely hard seeing that he was trying everything in his power to run into me. By Wednesday I resorted to staying in town with Alice, who was all broken up over Chris leaving. Our nights were spent binge watching Gossip girl and eating rocky road out or the carton. Not the most exciting summer, but it guaranteed I would not run into Kip. Friday night I let myself into Alice's apartment with a replenishment of Ice cream and a handful off redbox movies, finally bored of Blair and Chuck's drama.

"Allie!" I call dropping my haul onto the tiny counter. "I Got some movies for tonight, The Longest Ride, The Choice and Terminator, Cause Emilia Clarke is in it and you know I love me some Khaleesi." I say when I hear her coming out of her bedroom.

"Actually, I have a different idea"

"No, no no no." I say when I see her dressed up in a tight dress and ski high boots.

"Come on, Please, Lynn-lynn." She whines, "were young, we need to live."

"You live enough for the both of us," I mumble under my breath.

"Im not taking no for an answer," she puts he hands on her hips and narrows her eyes. she thinks she looks tough, she doesn't. but she will still get what she wants.

"Fine, but I'm not drinking," I snap, "And I am not wearing heels."

~~~~~

My feet hurt, the heels Alice forced me to wear are too high, and a size too small. The club is too crowded; no seats are open. It's too hot in here anyway, I can't breathe and the music is too loud.

"I need air!" I yell to Alice, who is dancing with a guy I've never met, she says she knows him, and by the way shes kissing his neck she has already decided to go home with him.

Once outside I kick out of the stupid heels, tempted to throw them in the dumpster. I want to sit down on the curb, but there is a cop across the street. I'm not drunk, but sitting on the floor will make him think I am. I look around, there are no benches anywhere. There is, however, an Ihop 2 blocks down.

With my heels in my hand, I set off twords the land of pancakes, planning on sitting down with a cup of coffee and wait till Alice is ready to go. I doubt she will come home with me, but she drove here so I need her keys to leave. When I get seated in a booth, the carpet under my feet slightly sticky from a decade of spilt syrup, I decide to call Alice and let her know where I am. Only, I don't have my phone. Hell, I don't have my purse. A memory flashes to the sketchy coat check room Alice insisted we use.

"Coffee?" The waitress asks?

I frown, and then try to smile. "I would love some, but I left my wallet with my friend."

I unwillingly get up, and head back to the club, the walk feeling twice as long as the first time. My feet hurt again, this time from the gravel lodged between my toes.

"I.D." the bouncer barks as I approach.

"I just left_"

"I.D." He repeats.

"I left my purse inside,"

"I.D."

"Is that all you can say?" I snap, frustrated.

The bouncer narrows his eyes at me, "You aint getting in without an I.D."

"Its in my Purse, inside. That's all I want!"

He ignores me, pushing me to the side as another couple approach the door. I consider asking if one of them will grab my purse, but both of them look stoned and I don't trust them. Instead, I make my third pilgrimage to the land of pancakes. Maybe they will let me use their phone, there is someone I know will help me, and I've had the number memorized since I was 6.

Kip

I'm on the couch watching sports highlights fighting to stay awake. I spent the better part of the evening cleaning the house. Mr. Feller is scheduled to be released the day after tomorrow, and with Lynn gone I'm trying to make the place presentable. the third time my head snaps forward I decide it's time for bed. I get up, yawning again as I lock the doors and turn off the lights. I don't feel right sleeping in the house alone. This isn't my place, I'm just the boy in the loft. I'm almost out the back door when the phone rings. It sounds foreign to me. the ring, ring, of the green wall-mounted phone fills the house. In all the years I have worked here I have heard the phone ring maybe twice. I honestly didn't know it still worked.

"Hello?" I answer, sounding confused as hell.

"Kip," my hears leaps at that voice,

"Lynn? Why are you calling the land line?" I grab my cell, checking to see if she called there first.

"It's the only number I knew by heart," before I can ask she continues, "can you come get me?"

"Why? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, my feet hurt, but I'm ok." She sighs, "I left my purse in a club and they won't let me in to grab it."

I rub my face and sigh, frustrated, "How much have you drank?"

"None! I am completely sober!" she defends, but it has the opposite effect. I laugh.

"Your sober?"

"Yes,"

"and you left your purse... In a club?"

"...Yes?"

"But your sober?" I'm laughing again.

"I do not see how this is funny, Kipling." Her using my full name has a weird effect on me, and I doubt it's what she was hoping for.

"where are you?" I ask grabbing my keys off the counter.