Is this a little petty? Maybe. Is this pretty trashy? Yes.
I just don’t believe Elias. There’s no fucking way. He just needs to realize it. I’m not a fucking wallflower, and I refuse to be second best to Leo forthis. This is something worth fighting for. Maybe he’ll realize it when he sees this soft-looking emo kid.
Until then, though, the wrong sized hand cups my ass in this dress without permission. The wrong fingers grip my waist and tug me towards him with the wrong amount of pressure. Ugh.
“I’m glad you texted me,” he says, as we stand just outside the bar. “I haven’t heard from you in months. I thought it was because I came on too strong with those texts…”
I think way back, months ago, to another set of texts, to what started this whole situation in the first place. “I… sorry. Something came up. School got really busy.”
He shrugs. “No problem. We’re here now.”
“I…” I gather my Hot Girl energy. “I’m not looking for anything serious, Adam,” I tell him. “This is just for fun. Is that okay with you?”
He smiles, and it’s sexy, but it’s all wrong. “We’re on the same page,” he says.
“Great,” I say, turning and dragging him into the bar.
Immediately, I spot Leo and a familiar head of light brown curly hair sitting at the bar.
I turn around towards my date, leaning into him. He’s too slender, lean and wiry muscle instead of thick mass. He’s the wrong height. With my man-eater heels on, we’re at eye level. He grins at me. It’s all wrong, and it’s a little leery. I drag my finger across his bottom lip anyway. “This mouth is just as hot as I remember.”
He sucks my finger into his mouth, and it’s too wet when his tongue wraps around it. “It’s gonna look even hotter wrapped around your nipples later.” Ugh. How unoriginal. That was my line.
I glance back towards the bar, knowing the look I’m waiting for. Sheer devastation, a wreckage?—
Elias is looking at me, frozen on his bar stool… but the look is all wrong. His eyes are fixed on my face with a… vacant sort of eagerness. It’s empty. Hewavesat me, at us, with a vapid smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Indifferent. As if I were just another member of his Blonde Brigade that just so happened to be here, and he is forced to be diplomatic or considerate for the sake of civility in public. I want to claw it off his face.
Fuck that.
Even more determined, I start my little Hot Girl march over to them, dragging Adam behind me.
“Hey, guys,” I tell my brother and Elias brightly.
“Hey, Meems,” Leo says, narrowing his eyes at Adam behind me.
Elias smiles at me as if it’s a courtesy,wavingat me again, with a cold, fake familiarity, and I’m about ready to chop his fucking hand off.
“Remember Adam?” I say.
Adam steps forward to put his hand on my waist. I track Elias’s eyes when they flick down to where Adam touches me.Get mad. Give me something. I watch his face, his hands, for the twitch he gets when he wants to touch me. His hand starts to reach out…
To Adam. “Hey, man. Nice to see you again,” says Elias, voice falsely enthusiastic as they shake hands.
No.
“Hey,” Adam replies. He turns to my brother. “I hope this is okay?”
Leo shrugs. “Just don’t be a dick. If you are, we’ll have to kick your ass.”
What thefuckis happening right now?
I’m ready to scream at everyone, blow up Elias’s and my spot, kick Adam to the curb, something, when there’s movement from the corner of my eye.
A slender blonde woman steps between Elias’s knees where he sits on the barstool, with confidence, as if she is convinced that she belongs there.
His face breaks from his cold mask. He grins at her, giving hereverything, everything that’smine, that belongs tome—green eyes sparkling, flashing her the Dimple, my Dimple, slipping two fingers into the waistband of her pants and pulling her closer.
A knife buries deep into my sternum, twisting.
