“Why are you laughing?”
“I just saw myself in the mirror, and I look absolutely horrid.” I take a long, deep breath to calm the sobs still threatening to take over. “Time for me to get up. I hate that I didn’t realize what I wanted sooner. I hate that I hurt. I hate that things will probably never go back to how they were, and I lost a friend in the process.”
“You don’t know that. So what now?”
“I need to get up and do something. Anything. Especially before Lena decides to call anyone else worried. I’ll call you tomorrow. Let me go tell her I am up and ready to face the day, or what’s left of it.”
Reluctantly, I admit to myself I have turned into a cluster fuck of emotions. The extreme highs and lows are completely uncharacteristic of me. But before now, I had never put myself out there, never left myself be vulnerable.
I wash my face with a washcloth soaked with cold water, hoping it will decrease the puffiness. I walk out of my room to find Lena sitting on the couch flipping through channels.
“Sorry to worry you, friend.” I sit next to her and place my head on her shoulder.
She places her head on top of mine. “I’m just glad you got up. I probably shouldn’t have called Bree, but you scared me. I kept hearing you cry, and you didn’t want me in there with you.”
“I know. I needed her to kick me in my ass. No one does it quite like her.” I take a deep breath.
* * *
Caleband I are at a new swanky martini bar that just opened. Jason and Wes keep everyone at the table entertained with stories of their escapades during the break. I’m already feeling a buzz and Wes has just brought another round of shots.
Just as I throw back my shot, I notice Mike and Jake walk in with the girls from the beach. Panic courses through me, and I cough, choking when the liquid goes down the wrong way. What if Groupie Girl is still mad about what happened and says something to Caleb? What if the guys go back and tell Ethan I was out and enjoying myself with Caleb? I feel Caleb’s lips on my neck as he rubs my waist, pulling me closer. I straighten myself up a bit, pulling away, while trying not to make it noticeable. He tugs me toward him more forcefully, so I excuse myself to the ladies’ room, my mind reeling with excuses to leave.
As I walk out of the bathroom, I see Mike leaning against the wall. He smiles and waves me over. I smile nervously, giving him a hug.
"What's up?" he asks stoically.
"Not much. What are y'all doing here?" I shrug, trying to sound casual and hide my unraveling nerves. I am curious to know whether Ethan is coming but know I cannot ask.
"Same, I guess," he says, clipped.
“Have a good evening.” I sidestep him, but he moves, blocking me.
“What happened with you and Ethan? He won’t talk about it, but I know something went wrong. Then seeing you here with your boyfriend proves it." His jaw ticks.
"You have to ask him. I can't get into it." My throat clenches thinking of Ethan, so I try and walk away again, but Mike grabs my arm to stop me.
"But he won't talk about it. That's why I'm asking you. We've tried. Please. We saw how happy he was with you at the beach. Then…"
"Who was happy with you at the beach?" I hear Caleb behind me, his tone menacing.
I turn around to see him glaring at me. I stumble back, but Mike's grip on my arm holds me steady. Caleb’s glare moves from me to Mike.
"Do you mind taking your hand off my girlfriend?" He pushes his shoulders back and clenches his fists at his sides. Mike drops his hand from my arm, turning his back to me and coming chest to chest with Caleb.
"We’re talking. Mind if we finish our conversation?" Mike takes a small step, blocking Caleb from me.
"The conversation with you is over," he spits at Mike. Then he takes a step to look me in the eyes, extending his hand to me. "And you can answer my question. Who was so happy with you at the beach?"
I place my hand on Mike’s back to grab his attention. He turns his head to the side, watching me step around him. “I’ll see you around. I have to go.” My lips turn down.
I take Caleb’s hand, walking away. I walk toward the door, pulling Caleb behind me, when he tugs my hand. I stop, turning to face him. He’s glaring at me, body rigid.
“Can we talk outside?” I ask quietly.
“After you answer the fucking question!” he seethes. I wince at his tone, letting go of his hand and stepping back.
“Please. Let’s talk outside,” I plead.