I start to go to her, but she just walks off. Leah follows immediately, and I stumble out of the booth, tripping over my own drunken feet.
Ethan mutters an, “Oh shit,” as he joins me in the chase.
But by the time we catch up, Brin is smiling, leaning against the bar as security drags out the screaming crazed girl. She watches and waves at Leah, and then she turns to grab a drink from the bartender. It’s then I notice Leah is soaking wet with a red mark across her face.
Did I just miss the good shit? Fuck.
“Shit,” Ethan groans. “How the hell did we miss that?”
I just laugh as I make my way over to Brin, but her smile has lost its depth. It seems forced now. Brittle even. I hate that smile.
“Did you slap her?” Ethan asks, whining almost.
Brin smirks while sipping her drink, and then she says, “Just a little tap. The drink in her face came from Ash.”
Ash walks up, moving away from the door where Leah was just hauled out. “I’ve really wanted to do that since she started calling Tag,” she gloats, smiling as she hands her cup to the bartender for some fresh water.
“Damn,” Wren says, joining us. “What’d I miss?”
We all pout, but Ash is the only one to laugh. Brin seems a thousand miles away. This is the sort of drama that I like to avoid. She’s upset but not talking about it. I didn’t invite Leah, but I didn’t tell her that Leah was still trying to get me to see her either.
“Why was she even here?” Wren asks, looking at Ash.
“Hell if I know. I certainly didn’t invite her. She must have heard us talking about it a couple of nights ago when Tag set her up with Rye.”
Brin’s lips tighten as she stares down at her drink. I wish I could see inside her head right now. I can’t tell if she’s pissed at me or just upset about what Leah said.
“Oh, so you two are newly together?” Ethan muses, looking between Brin and me.
She sighs while taking a napkin and wiping her lips, trying to get rid of that terrible shit I’ve hated all night.
“Dear God. We’re not together,” she growls, walking away from all of us.
“What the hell was that about?” Wren asks, glaring at me like it’s my fault.
Drama. Drama. Drama.
“Hell if I know.”
“This is the part where you go find out,” he prompts, giving me a shove in the direction that Brin went.
“You heard her. We’re not together. That’s boyfriend shit.”
He continues to glare at me like I’m an idiot, but I return the glower. “You’re making her feel like she’s not good enough,” Ash says, interrupting the stare down.
Fuck. “All I did was invite her here with me. She said yes. I’ve done nothing but—”
“Exactly,” she interrupts, looking so damn smug. “You’ve done nothing. You probably haven’t even told her what you expect from all of this. If you fuck someone you’re friends with, you have to talk to them. That’s how it works. Now go talk to her.”
***
BRIN
I would cry if it wouldn’t give me away. Why do I want to cry? I never cry—unless big, stupid, confusing idiots fix my car. Why won’t everyone just butt out of our business?
I contemplate calling a cab, and I even pull out my phone as I stare out at the ocean. My face is mostly clean now. I just spent ten minutes trying to scrub off the pounds of makeup I put on.
What was I thinking?