What do you mean?
Who’s the guy?
The guy? A second later, a photo appears. It’s of me on the floor with Frankenstein on top of me. Our faces are so close, there’s no light shining through. It looks like he’s about to kiss me. I lean in and see the green makeup all over my cheek. “Oh my god. It looks like we were kissing.”
“Kissing? Who was kissing?” Kimmy asks, sounding intrigued. Maybe that means she’s no longer angry.
“Someone sent Alec a picture of our little accident back there.”
At the same moment, we say his name. “Adrian.”
“Alec’s asking me who the guy is.” At a stoplight, I show her the photo.
“Oh my god.” She cracks up. “That looks terrible.” She snorts. “For you.”
At least that’s something positive that came from this—she’s laughing. “What should I say?”
“Tell him you’re just having some fun at a Halloween party.”
But we weren’t. Not really. The night sort of crashed and burned, and it isn’t even ten o’clock yet.
Long story
It’s all I write because itisa long story. The next thing I know, my phone’s ringing. I glance over at Kimmy. “It’s Alec.”
“Go ahead and answer. I want to hear this.”
Rolling my yes, I answer his call. “Hello?”
“I’ve got time.”
No “hello” or “how are you?” on this call. Just an angry-sounding Alec on the other end of the line. “Hello, Alec.”
“Who’s the guy?” His voice is more growl than anything else.
“Just a guy dressed as Frankenstein. Kimmy and I lost our balance, and that guy was collateral damage.”
“You lost your balance? Are you drunk?”
I’m not sure I like his tone. Not one bit. Still, I feel the need to explain, for me. “No, we aren’t drunk. Our costume was complicated because we were attached together. I’ll send you a photo so you can see.”
“I don’t give a shit about your costume, Matilda. I want to know how you got photographed with some asshole on top of you.”
“I assume your brother took the picture. Askhim.” Then I hang up the phone. I’m not listening to someone, not even Alec, talk to me like I did something wrong. I didn’t. My phone rings again in my hand, but I turn it off so I don’t have to listen to it.
“He’s jealous,” Kimmy says excitedly from her side of the car.
“No, he’s just being a jerk.” I swear, I don’t think the guy can help it. It’s in his DNA. “What’s it to him?”
“I mean it. He’s jealous. I could hear his voice from here, and he sounded super-duper pissed.”
He sure did. “Yeah, well….” I don’t have a rebuttal. “Why would he be jealous?” We’re friends.
“Good lord, girl. You’re leaving in ten days to spend three days with him. He paid for your plane ticket. You’re staying in his apartment. Is it a one bedroom or a two bedroom?” She doesn’t stop for an answer. “He’s made his claim.”
“Claim?”
At a stoplight, Kimmy throws her car into park and turns to me. “Stop being daft. You must know what’s happening.”
