He didn’t seem mad, exactly, but he had his cop-face on and my nonexistent interpersonal skills were no help in figuring out if he was leaving for now, or leaving for good. He said he was just going to go figure some things out. But how many guys have gone out for a pack of smokes and just kept on going? Telling Jacob I was sorry didn’t do any good. And begging him to stay didn’t help. Punching the wall didn’t solve anything, either. So I took the handful of stones Crash had sold me and flung them out the living room window. That felt good for about two seconds, but afterwards I was still me, and my life still sucked. I wandered from the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom and back about a dozen times, and then it occurred to me that Lisa could help me figure out what was going on. In fact, when you think about it, Lisa owed it to me to help me sort this shit out. It was her half-assed warnings that had made Jacob leave.
