Now that the party was over and I was starting to think about things a bit more clearly, I sincerely hoped nothing was happening between them. Scott deserved the world, not some scumbag who wouldn't even tell him his real name.
That said, I did enjoy hanging out at the club with him, despite his date. It was the first time that I was seeing him so carefree in a while, so for just a little bit, I let us enjoy it.
A few nights after that, I was on Scott's sofa. I didn't mind being there whenever he wanted me too. He seemed to be in good spirits yet again.
Only one thing was on my mind though, his new boy toy. I didn't want to immediately jump into the subject out of fear of sounding creepy, so I let him lead a few conversations about whatever was on his mind, including if I was seeing anyone. I wasn't.
"So," I finally started, after an agonising lifetime of small talk. "Who's that new arm candy you're seeing?"
He started smiling, or more like blushing, and was almost giggling. He wasn't the type to act this way so it was definitely a surprise.
"I don't know," he said innocently, "just a friend."
I raised a questioning brow at him. We both knew he couldn't lie to me.
"Okay listen," he said scooting closer as if anyone was going to hear us. I moved my ear closer to get all the juicy details.
"Well we're not there YET, but... I really like him."
I was shocked, but I hid it. He was the worst possible person to like. Scott had always had horrible taste in men. All these thoughts were spinning in my mind. I could only slowly look into his face to see if he was being serious.
"Don't tell me you have a crush," I said, low and dramatic. He looked like he did. It had been a long time since I'd seen him like that, but the last time was actually worse, so I figured it was at least a relief.
"Why not? Do you?" he fired sassily. I raised my hands defensively as we both laughed.
"I don't know, we're not in high school anymore, but, maybe I do."
In my mind I was screaming, even though my face was barely managing a smile.
"Ok, does he have a job?"
"Yeah, he's a contractor, building and such," Scott answered. I almost rolled my eyes, but again I couldn't.
"Really? That's nice. You guys see each other much?"
"Mm-hm, I guess," he pondered. He didn't have a response. "Occasionally, we're not that far yet okay?" he said defensively.
"Why not?"
I was basically interrogating him at that point. He looked almost scared to be asked all these questions that he didn't have answers for.
"He's shy okay? He's an introvert, he doesn't like crowds."
That's when I visibly rolled my eyes. I couldn't believe him for believing that after the night he introduced us. Scott gasped, but before he could speak I was firing at him with another question.
"Where does he live? Where do you guys even meet?"
We looked at each other for a second. He was close to giving up, but he knew I always had good reasons for my concerns.
"I don't know okay? We meet here, at hotels, and sometimes... motels."
He said the last part quietly. My mouth hung open. Surely he knew how that sounded. I gave him a moment to think about it, and I knew we were on the same page when he sighed.
I wasn't looking at him at that point, just looking at the ceiling. The room went quiet, and finally I spoke.
"How did you guys meet?"
I didn't want to bum him out, so I figured we'd at least talk about why he was so infatuated with such a marginal person.
"At the club actually."
"Oh, wow. Great place to meet new people," I replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes at me, though I was seeing hints of a smile.
"We saw each other at the bar, then he followed me onto the dance floor, it was nice."
"Hmm."
Nice wasn't the word I would have used to describe my own first encounter with him. I kept comparing the guy I had met to the guy he was talking about. They seemed like two different people.
He seemed too sleazy to keep the act going for too long, and I figured that since he already knew that I was friends with someone he was lying to, he'd have enough sense to rein it in. I hoped I was right.
My new objective was to find this mysterious "David". That almost definitely was not his real name. I had his name in my head, but for some reason I couldn't remember it, but I knew his last name, and it wasn't Smith.
"Jackson," he had said. Something Jackson. My mind couldn't figure out the other part, but it was going to come to me eventually.
There was a starting point, and for me it was the first place I'd seen him. I prepared to go out at the exact time I was out that first night to find him.
At seven in the evening I started my car and started driving to the other side of town.
The breeze was similar but not so relaxing this time. It only made me anxious, especially as I neared my destination.
I saw a parked police car in the distance and drove up to and parked right beside it. I stepped out of my car and walked the tiny distance to the other car, and knocked on the window.
I couldn't see well in the dark of night, but I thought I saw the silhouette raising its head and looking in my direction. The man, I figured, rolled down the window.
"Hi," I said before he could speak. "I was looking for an officer Jackson? P Jackson? Know where I can find him?"
The guy looked at me with confusion and almost disgust, a look that could make even the greatest of men feel small.
