“I can attest to that.His dick is huge. I’m actually angry he held out on me for so long! Who would have guessed he was packing back in school?” Anna chuckles, launching into an in-depth recount of her night that I didn’t ask for.
After she is done telling me ALL the details, and I’m left traumatised, she asks, “What’s the deal with Brett, anyway? He know you’ve got a boyfriend now?”
I put down my blush and give my hair a final comb with my fingers. “Firstly, I don’t have a boyfriend. Zayn and I are seeing each other. There’s a difference. And secondly,” I slip my coat and scarf over the top of my grey a-line dress, “why would that matter to Brett? We’re friends.”
“Friends? Gia, I’ve met the guy once and can tell he’s into you. Just be careful, is all I’m saying.”
“Brett wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I didn’t say he would. I meant thatyoucould hurthim.”
I steponto the noisy rooftop terrace with Anna’s parting words on my mind. I’ve never led Brett to believe we would ever be more than friends. Sure, he recently admitted to having feelings for me eight years ago, but that was a long time ago and I never reciprocated. Now I’m back at uni, I’ve been seeing him a few times a week and there’s been nothing untoward, just our usual friendly banter. I’m sure Anna’s wrong.
Brett waves me down from a long table at the back end of the open-air bar. I make my way through the already crowded space, trying not to knock anyone’s drinks from their hands, until I’m close enough for Brett to wrap me in a bear hug.
“Everyone, this is Gianna!” he addresses the packed table behind him after he puts me back down on my feet. “She’s studying marketing and PR now. She’ll be our best asset in the next few years!” Everyone at the table lets up a cheer and I realise they’re all already a couple drinks deep, including Brett. He sits me on the stool he kept clear beside his, and within moments I’m pulled into conversation with the friendly, quirky-dressed brunette woman next to me.
She’s telling me about the marketing campaign she’s working on for an athleisure company and I’m silently thinking about the ways I can use her techniques for my Hope House fundraiser when I receive a text from Zayn.
Zayn: Can I call you?
Gianna: I’m out at drinks. Are you home?
Zayn: Still working, just grabbing some dinner
Gianna: Alone?
Zayn: No. With Monica
I don’t replyafter that. I can’t help the jealousy that eats me alive at the thought of Zayn having dinner with a woman who I’m pretty sure is in love with him.
Zayn: It’s only a work dinner
Slipping my phone and his latest unanswered text into my bag, I try to put Zayn out of my mind and distract myself by making my way slowly around the table, talking to Brett and his work friends. I’m annoyed at myself that I haven’t even been sleeping with Zayn for a whole week and I’m letting thoughts of him consume me already. Isn’t this why I told myself I wouldn’t go there in the first place? My willpower when it comes to him is pathetic, honestly.
“Can I get you a drink, Gia?” Brett asks an hour in, suddenly noticing my lack of drink in hand.
“Yeah, but I’ll come with you.”
We make our way back through the crowd to the bar, and Brett orders me a gin and tonic.
“They all love you, of course,” Brett’s saying as I watch the bartender add ice to the empty cup. There’s a slight slur to Brett’s words, letting me know he’s well on the way to pissed-ville.
“They all seem great. Especially Freya.”
“Yeah, Freya’s amazing. She’s our marketing queen.”
We have a few more drinks. Brett keeps insisting on buying even though I try to resist, and it’s well past 1a.m. when the group calls it a night.
I’m tipsy in a good way, elevated further by the high of mingling with new people. Brett, on the other hand, is sloshed. We share an Uber home, but when I go to get out at my apartment, Brett asks the driver to wait for him while he walks me to the door.
“You didn’t have to walk me all the way,” I say as we reach the glass front doors of my building. The wind is bitingly cold and I turn to hug Brett goodbye when my purse slips from under my arm, its contents scattering all over the pavement.
“Fuck.” I pick up my cards, phone and lipstick, and when I stand, it’s to find Brett leaning against the wall, staring at me with half-lidded eyes and an odd look on his face.
“Gia,” he slurs, his head tipped head back. There’s a strange lilt to his voice that makes my pulse quicken. “You have always been so beautiful. Do you know how beautiful you are?”
Dread sucker punches me in the gut, then settles there like a brick.No, no, no.Is this what Anna was warning me about earlier?Please God, no.How can she keep seeing things that I can’t?
