“Yep. I’m just outside our building. Let’s go.”
I sighed. Escape was impossible, so I grabbed my purse and met her downstairs.
“You are distracted,” Presley said. “What’s going on?”
“Just finals and shit.” I looked out the window of Presley’s BMW, avoiding eye contact. It didn’t work.
“You are a terrible liar,” she said. “Why are you being secretive? Is it a guy?”
“You always think it’s a guy,” I said. “When I have a cold, it’s a guy. When the moon is full, it’s a guy. When I’m PMSing, it’s a guy. When I bomb a test, it’s a guy—”
“You’ve never bombed a test. How about when you make up shit about bombing tests, it’s a guy?”
I laughed.
“Maybe you are the one who met a guy, and you’re trying to divert attention from yourself in order to avoid an inquisition. Who is he, Presley? Is he a vagrant wanderer you met by the train tracks? Or maybe a rock star?”
“You are ridiculous!” Presley laughed as she pulled her car up to the Club Mania valet.
At least she dropped the subject.
“Margaritas,” Presley said to the bartender as we sat down, “on the rocks with salt. Use the Don Julio.”
“You got it.” The bartender flashed a toothy smile as he started mixing the drinks.
“You better get me one, too!” Zoey grabbed the barstool beside me, yanked it back a foot, and plopped herself down, hitting the side of my face with her long, highlighted curls. “This was one hell of a weekend!”
She was dressed in a short, red cocktail dress and covered in gold jewelry from Tiffany’s. Zoey was a trust fund baby and hadn’t even bothered with going further than her bachelor’s degree in human resources. She had no intention of working right away and continued to lead the collegiate life without the actual classes.
“Where have you been?” Presley asked. “You disappeared Friday night, and I never heard from you again.”
“Well,” Zoey said as she waved down the bartender, “that’s because I didn’t leave that guy’s hotel room until this morning.”
I shook my head as Zoey ordered a vodka tonic and leaned back on the stool, smiling broadly.
“Which one?” Presley asked. “There was that dark-haired guy with the intense eyes and the blond one in the suit jacket. Which one did you go home with?”
“Well, that’s the interesting bit,” Zoey said.
The bartender placed our drinks in front of us, and I licked the salt from the edge of the glass before taking a quick drink. Zoey watched his backside until he was out of earshot and then turned back to Presley and me.
“Bucket list item checked!” Zoey held her drink high in the air before taking a sip. “Two guys at once!”
“You are not right,” Presley said.
“What I am,” Zoey said, “is a well-adjusted woman who isn’t afraid to express herself sexually.”
Presley demanded details of Zoey’s weekend encounter, and I zoned out as Ethan’s video message played through my memory. The more I thought about it, the more my heart sank. I pushed my drink a little ways away from me and checked my phone, but there weren’t any more messages from Ethan.
“…then they switched off, and the blond guy—”
“I can’t hear any more of this,” I said with a chuckle. I pushed my stool back. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. Zoey, be done before I get out.”
Presley and Zoey both laughed as I walked away.
In the bathroom, I checked the stalls to make sure I was alone before I watched Ethan’s video again. When it was over, I stared at my face in the mirror for a moment. I considered calling him, but if I were to stay in here too long, Presley would come looking for me as soon as Zoey finished her story.
Shoving the phone back in my purse, I washed my hands and headed back to the bar.