Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 37

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 37
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

I stood in the doorway of Anna’s room, willing her to wake up. It was early, and I hadn’t even left the house until after midnight, so I knew she hadn’t slept much.

But I hadn’t slept at all, and I needed to talk to her.

Anna was not cute when she slept. Was that proof that I didn’t love her? I always loved to watch Rachel sleep. She always looked so sweet and warm and adorable, even if her hair was all messed up and she was snoring.

Paris had to have an eye mask on when she slept. And she had a million pillows and stuffed animals and liked the air conditioning on so she could snuggle under the covers. I always got hot when I slept with her, so I’d throw some covers off, and then I’d be cold because of the damn air conditioning. By the time I wanted more covers, Paris would have stolen them all.

I never got a good night’s sleep at her place. I was glad I never had to sleep in that pink frilly bedroom again.

Anna was sprawled out, her mouth open, and it wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t horrible, but I liked her better with her mouth closed. I didn’t really want to crawl in next to her and snuggle up, like I always wanted to do with Rachel.

What time was it? Should I just let Anna sleep?

I looked around for her alarm clock, and saw the necklace I’d given her draped over it, so she’d see it when she first woke up. That made me smile.

“Anna,” I whispered. “I have donuts.”

Los Angeles had a bunch of good bakeries. Which was sorta weird, since it seemed like no one ever ate. Except Anna. She was definitely the only woman I knew in LA who appreciated a good donut.

She rolled over, opening one eye to squint at me. “Nick?”

I held up the bag I was holding. “Donuts. And coffee.”

“What time is it?” she asked, looking at her clock. The necklace made her smile, and she sat up. “It’s 6:48, and I have a question for you.”

“What?” I said, sitting on the edge of her bed.

She picked up her necklace. “This thing is real?”

“Yeah, it’s really from your bass,” I answered, putting a cup of coffee on her bedside table.

“I mean the diamond!”

I just gave her a look, taking a sip of my coffee. “Did you not hear the part about Tiffany’s? They don’t do fake.”

“I just…” she sputtered, looking down at it. “I didn’t… After you left last night, I was putting my bracelet away, and I found the certificate of authenticity.”

“Good. In case you ever need to pawn it to pay off your gambling debts or something, you’ll get a good price. Cruller?”

She thrust the necklace at me instead. “I didn’t think last night, Nick. I can’t take this. You need to take it back. I’m sure they can take the diamond out, and you’ll get your money back, and then I’ll get a nice fake one. Cubic zircona or whatever it’s called.”

I closed her fingers around it. “Nice try.”

“Nick, you can’t spend this sort of money on me. I feel bad that I’m not paying rent right now.”

I shook my head. “Business expense. I’d be paying rent on this place if you were here or not. And you’re not taking your necklace back. It wasn’t even that much.”

I’d wanted a bigger diamond, but it would have just looked tacky.

“I know how much it was! It was in the papers!”

I smirked. “That’s how much the diamond was. You don’t need to know how much I spent to get Tiffany’s to do a custom piece in an hour.”

“Nick!” she protested, and I laughed.

“Relax. I wanted to get you something nice. You’ve been my best friend forever, and I was happy to get you a cool present.”

“The guitar part is cool enough. I don’t need the diamond.”

“Anna, shut up and eat a donut.”

She started to say something, but then put the necklace down and picked up her coffee. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But… never mind. So, how was your night?”

Right. I’d wanted to talk to her. But I was okay now. I was glad that she’d distracted me from why I hadn’t slept at all.

I looked into the bag of donuts, considering them. I’d already eaten the cruller while she argued with me about the diamond. “I got you blueberry,” I said, handing it to her. “Your favorite.”

She took it. “What happened that you are bringing me donuts at 6:48 in the morning? Usually when you go out with Paris, I don’t see you until at least noon. Sometimes not for days.”

I shrugged, taking out a chocolate frosted donut. Those were my favorite. There was another chocolate in the bag. I wondered if Anna would eat it or if I’d get to have three donuts for breakfast. That probably wasn’t very healthy, but it was a three donut sort of morning.

Anna let me take a bite of my donut before she asked another question. “Do you hate yourself this morning?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, not looking at her. “I do. I broke up with her, but…”

“You did what?” Anna said, whacking my knee.

“I broke up with her. But… it was bad. It was… really bad.”

I should have just stayed home with Anna. We’d had a really nice night. We’d gotten extra chicken at Roscoe’s, because the waitress loved us, then we went to the grocery store because Anna said we were out of milk at the apartment. We’d ended up getting a bunch of junk food, and then going home and watching TV and playing video games. It was nice, just hanging out with Anna and not needing to make small talk with vapid cokeheads or worry if my clothes were ‘hot’ enough.

I never needed to hear anyone use the word ‘hot’ again. Ever.

“What happened?” Anna asked around bites of her doughnut.

“Lots of stuff that shouldn’t have.”

“Meaning you fucked her,” she said matter of factly.

“Yeah,” I had to admit. I couldn’t lie to Anna. “And I drank too much, and did some coke…”

Anna stopped me there. “You weren’t really going to break up with her, were you?”

“I was planning to, but…”

I’d only gone out to meet Paris to break up with her. She’d called about fifty times while Anna and I were having fun, and I ignored her calls. The phone kept ringing until Anna told me to either turn it off or go and see her, and I’d decided to go and break up with her and have it be over.

I was all pumped up when I’d left, high from being with Anna and playing stupid video games and kicking her ass. But as soon as I walked into the club, it was like a scene from a vampire movie, ‘Blade’ or something, where everyone was perfect but soulless. I knew I’d never get out of there alive if I walked up to the Queen and told her I was breaking up with her.

So I had a drink, and Paris was so happy to see me that she’d dragged me into the bathroom for a quickie and some coke. By then I’d completely forgotten about breaking up with her.

The last time I’d had sex with Paris Hilton was in the bathroom at some LA night club. That was pretty trashy. But somehow fitting.

The last time I’d had sex with Rachel, we’d at least been in a bed. It had been sorta rushed, because we both had things to do on the day of the Video Music Awards, but it was still good. It always was with Rachel. Even when we had angry sex because we were fighting, it was good.

It hurt sometimes, that I hadn’t enjoyed the last time I’d had sex with Rachel. I’d tried to get her to stay for that last break-up fuck, but she didn’t want to. I didn’t blame her. But… I wished I’d known it was the last time. I would have paid more attention. I would have said good-bye to all those things I loved about her.

I was okay with letting Paris go. The quickie in the bathroom was pretty hot.

Hot. There was that stupid word again.

“You got distracted,” Anna said, and I looked at her. Had I said any of that out loud?

I shrugged. “I got distracted. You walk into those clubs and it’s a whole other world.”

“So how did you end up here in my bed with donuts? Give me that,” she said, taking the last donut out of my hand. “We each get two, right?”

I pouted at her. “I had a bad night.”

“Sugar won’t help. Want me to make eggs or something?”

“Not right now.”

“Tell me the rest of the story,” she commanded, pointing the donut at me. I stole a huge bite, making her shriek, and I laughed, stuffing about half of the donut in my mouth.

“Bastard. Tell me the rest of the story, before I read all the bogus accounts on line.”

That ruined my appetite. I had no idea how this was going to play in the media. Paris would find some way to make me the bad guy, I was sure of that. She’d told me as much while we were screaming at each other.

“Well… it was fine when I first got there. She was all happy to see me, and dragged me into the bathroom, for, uh…”

“I don’t need all the details, Nick. Just the outline. Sex in the bathroom, I get it. Probably some other stuff.”

“A lot of other stuff. Then… she asked what her present was.”

Anna didn’t even need me to explain. She just gasped, covering her mouth. “Someone saw you go to Tiffany’s.”

“Fucking paparazzi,” I muttered. “Somebody told her something, or said something to one of her friends, and by the time I got there, we were engaged.”

“You are joking.”

“She was pretty wasted. I told her I hadn’t gotten her anything, but she kept pushing and pushing and whining in that voice she thinks is so cute.”

“I fucking hate that voice! I hated that you liked that voice.”

I shook my head. “It was sorta cute at first. Not lately.” And definitely not cute last night.

“Anyway,” Anna said, wanting to get back to the story. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her I went to Tiffany’s, but I’d gotten you something.”

“Shit.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Then she got mad.” I’d tried making stuff up. I’d thought about going out tomorrow- today, now- and getting Paris something. But she wanted a ring, and nothing else would do, so I told her the truth, because I knew it would piss her off.

“She wanted a ring,” I told Anna. “An engagement ring.”

“You’ve only been dating for a month!”

“I know!” I almost yelled. “She had built this whole thing up, about how I was so in love with her that I never wanted to let her go, and we’d have babies right away, and we were going to be so perfect together, and…”

I shuddered. The thought made my skin crawl. Anna shuddered with me and we both laughed.

“So, I shot that down. I tried letting her down easy, but she was insistent. She got all giggly and clingy, so I finally just told her the truth, and I guess I wasn’t very nice about it, and then it all went downhill.”

Rapidly downhill. A fucking free fall. We screamed at each other in the middle of the club, and her friends got involved. I’d tried to walk away, but she wouldn’t let me. Thank God they don’t let paparazzi in the clubs. At least Extra wouldn’t lead with that footage tonight. I realized I’d stopped telling Anna the story, so I took a deep breath. “So I took her home, and there was more screaming in the car, and in her driveway, and… okay, the paparazzi might have footage of that.”

“That bad?” Anna asked sympathetically and I sighed.

“There was a lot of screaming. And beating.”

“Beating?” she questioned and I nodded, wincing that the memory of it.

“Punching. Slapping. Hitting. She broke her fake nails trying to grab my arm when I tried to leave the house.” I rolled up the sleeve of my shirt, looking for marks. “See? I think I’m supposed to pay for new nails or something. I don’t know. By the end of it, I just wanted to get the hell away from her. I drove around for a while, and then got donuts and here I am.”

“Why was she…” She hesitated for a second.

“That upset? I don’t know. Because she thought she was going to get married? Because she was baked? I don’t know. Because I broke up with her, probably.”

I’d heard that a few million times. “You don’t get to break up with me, Nick Carter. You are fucking nobody! I am Paris fucking Hilton and you are nothing!”

Then she’d tell me what a loser I was. There were a lot of variations on that theme. I was a has-been, fat, talentless, my family were all idiots… all sorts of things.

“An heiress scorned…” Anna started, and I smiled.

“Yeah. It’s over now, though.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… I don’t think she ever wants to see me again. Good thing we had the make-up sex first.” I laughed, but Anna didn’t even crack a smile.

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