We'd broken up almost a year ago.
Well, broken up was a little misleading, since we had never been official or anything. We'd only gone on like six dates, which was how long it took me to figure out that she was completely batshit and I wanted nothing to do with her. And also how long it took her to decide that I was her soul mate, we were destined to be together, and if she tried hard enough she could convince me of that fact. Or if that didn't work, at least convince me to stay with her anyway.
Yeah, batshit.
I'd left her, dated other people, but she'd made it pretty hard for me over the last year. One thing after another, from fake pregnancies to fake suicide attempts, she kept pulling me back in, and in the process managed to sabotage every other relationship I had tried to start.
And yet here I was, sitting across the table from her now. She'd made a deal with me, that if she was "good", and left me alone for six whole weeks, no contact whatsoever, I'd meet her for drinks. And despite the fact that she was delusional and bi-polar as all hell, she was incredibly strong-willed. So she'd pulled it off, and here I was.
She was definitely still hot. Not pretty. Hot.
Pretty was for cute girls that you would want to take home to meet you parents, or take to the movies. She definitely wasn't that. No, she was hot. She was the kind of girl whose looks make guys just a little crazy. You wouldn't think about bringing her to meet your folks, but you might fantasize about fucking her in an elevator.
And yeah, she was definitely still hot. She was wearing makeup, but it was either better makeup or she had done a better job of putting it on than the last time I had seen her. It looked mostly natural, like makeup was supposed to look, rather than the over-applied layers she had worn back in the day. It hid her freckles, at least on her face, which was too bad. I liked her freckles. Although now I could see a lot more of them then last time... the dress she was wearing didn't exactly leave much to the imagination. It was green, which matched her eyes, and had spaghetti straps, and it was pretty low cut.
Her boobs weren't huge, maybe a C-cup, but they were perky, and they were almost popping out of the top of that dress. I figured there must be some kind of support built into the dress, because I didn't see any bra straps, and something was definitely pushing them together and up.
And the dress was short. Almost too short to be legal in public, but in this bar no one was likely to complain. It fit tight to her figure, too, which was just as good as I remembered. Slim waist, perfect round ass... an Irish beauty. Her dark red hair was up in a ponytail, the curls making it fluffier than she probably wished it was, but it worked.
When she walked in, she turned a lot of heads, and I actually felt a little surge of pride, or something, when she walked over to my table. Like "ha, motherfuckers, she's with me!" She wasn't, though. And I was definitely not sure I wanted to be seen with her in public. Who knows what kind of shit she might pull?
"So..." I said, after the silence started to make me uncomfortable. She hadn't said a word after she ordered her drink, a Buttery Nipple. Yuck. I took a sip from my beer, and looked at her.
"Good to see you again, Sam."
"Same here, I guess. What do you want, Kat?"
"Jeez, straight to the point. Maybe I just wanted to see you?"
"Well, I've got to be honest; I didn't really want to see you."
She looked hurt, but I knew it was just an act. "Sam...."
"Don't give me that shit. The last time I saw you, you threw a plate at my head. What do you want?"
She leaned over the table toward me, giving me a fabulous view of her cleavage, and said "I want you."
I laughed. "Whatever."
"Sam, I'm serious. I want to get back with you."
My smile vanished. "Look Kat, that's nice and all, but I don't want to get back together. I thought I made that pretty clear before."
"I know why you left. And I've changed. I really have. And I just thought that now, maybe..." She looked pretty vulnerable, all the sudden. And it even looked genuine. But I couldn't be sure.
"Look Kat, we had fun and all, but I really can't deal with being in a relationship with you. And that hasn't changed."
"You mean you can't be in a relationship with me because of my...the way I can be sometimes."
"I guess if you want to put it that way. Kat, you've got issues. And you've got to work that shit out, and I just can't be a part of it. Not again."
"Well, I don't want a relationship."
"What?"
"I said-"
"Yeah, I know what you said, what did you mean? Why am I here?"
She didn't say anything for a moment, as her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. Like she was trying to find the right words to say something difficult. Finally, as I was about to lose my patience, she blurted "I need your help."
I stared at her. "Explain."
"Look Sam, I know I have problems. And I am working on them. But I need you to help me through them. You're the only guy I trust. I know you, I know the real you, and I know that you won't hurt me. Not really. And I've got to work though some stuff, and the only way I can do that is with someone I trust."
I just blinked at her.
"Look, I know after what happened you don't trust me. That's okay, I understand. But I need your help. Just hear me out, please?"
I sighed. I knew I should say just say no, and walk out. I knew whatever it was she was trying to do it was actually a ruse, another way to try to get me back. Have I mentioned that she's crazy? And obsessed with me? And stalked me for nine of the last twelve months?
But what can I say. She looked scared. When the tears welled up in her eyes, I just couldn't say no. But damn if I was going to walk into this blindly. "Okay, maybe. Tell me what you want."
She took a gulp of her drink, which I knew had some serious alcohol in it, despite the fruity flavor. She looked like she was screwing up her courage.
"Look, I'm not going to bite. Just tell me."
She gulped another drink. "Okay, just give me a minute. This is hard."
I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms. How much of this was fake? Should I just leave? Then she said "Okay, I want to make a deal with you. You'll like it, believe me."
"I haven't believed you in a long time. But I'm listening." That was one thing about her. She may be sneaky as hell, but if she said something straight out, she would follow through. She liked making deals. Yeah, she would lawyer it, so if part of a deal was that she was going to buy you a coke, you had better make sure you said "a cold, unopened coke" or it would probably be warm and flat. But she would always obey the letter of her deals.
"First, let me tell you why I need your help. I want you to believe me."
"Okay."
"So you know how I have some problems. Like, I sometimes people think I don't always tell the truth, and all that?"