Isabelle Reid's Train Wreck

Chapter Six

"Open the door, Izzy!"  I blinked wearily.  I groaned, burying my head into the pillow as Lars continued to shout at my closed door.  "Izzy, open this fucking door right now."

I stood up, grimacing at the pain not only in my foot, but in my head.  I had only gotten an hour's worth of sleep.  I didn't need a drunken Lars wake-up call.  I opened the door, glaring at him.  "What is it now?"

Lars pushed by me.  Following him in to my surprise was not only Stan but Blake as well.  "What the fuck happened tonight?" Lars asked furiously.

I stared at the three of them.  For once in my life I wish I listened to Rudolpho and wore sexier pajamas.  I didn't want Blake seeing me like this in my shorts and faded ripped tank.  I ran a hand through my hair.  I had to look a sight.  "Tonight?  What do you mean?"

Stan sat down on the couch while Lars paced around my room.  Blake leaned against the wall.  He held a bag of ice against his right hand.  I looked at it curiously before Lars reclaimed my attention. 

"What do I mean?  What do you think I mean?  Who's Harrison Colton?"

"God Lars, do we have to do this now?  I was sleeping!"

Stan spoke up.  "Isabelle, either you lied or that ass is lying."

"What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion.

"I want to know who the hell Harrison Colton is now!" Lars exclaimed once more.  "I'm not going to ask you again."

I stared at him in disbelief.  "What?  You're mad about him?"  I rolled my eyes.  "Calm down, Lars.  You're exaggerating this entire situation."

His eyes narrowed.  "I'm exaggerating this?"  He rubbed his jaw.  "I'm acting out again, huh?"  He picked up a bottle of wine that sat on the end table next to the couch.  He looked at it for a moment, slowly crossing to where I stood leaning against the back of the couch.  I eyed him nervously.  "Merlot.  You always had a soft spot for red wine."  He abruptly threw it against the wall across the room.  It hit the bathroom door where the red liquid slowly dripped down.

"Jesus.  Lars!" I shouted.

Stan held up his hands, quickly standing to move in between Lars and me.  "Lars, you said you wanted to hear Izzy's side.  You promised you would keep your temper in check."

Lars pushed Stan who stumbled out of the way.  "I lied."  Lars turned to me.  "I told you I didn't want you going off with some strange guy, but you did.  Now look what you've done."

Blake moved closer to Lars, eyeing him warily.  Stan flanked his other side, prepared to restrain him if our fight escalated.  I wasn't worried about Lars.  He might be a bully and a bad boyfriend, but he never would lay a hand on me. 

I took a step towards Lars, arching an eyebrow.  "What I've done?  Shouldn't I be saying that to you?  I wasn't the one fucking some slut in a booth."

Lars snorted.  "That isn't what I heard."  He put his hands on my shoulders.  "Iz, you can tell me anything."

"With you like this?"

"Isabelle," he replied in a calmer tone.  "I'm trying here."

I sighed.  I moved away from him, taking a seat on the loveseat.  "Nothing really happened."  I continued, speaking fast in an effort to get the strange conversation over with as quickly as possible.  "We flirted.  I joined him in a booth.  He kissed me.  He left.  That was it."

Lars bluntly asked, "Did you fuck him?"

"No!" I declared.  "I'd be more discreet than that."  I angrily motioned toward Blake.  "Why is he here anyway?  Do you want the world to know about our relationship?"