1
Scotty
Standingin front of the mirror, I let out a breath to steady my racing nerves. I kept telling myself there was no need to be so anxious, but then again, telling myself things never worked out. For three years I told myself that Brayden wasthe one, and look how that turned out.
"Stop thinking about him," I mumbled.
I clenched my eyes shut and smoothed a hand through my unruly blond hair before watching it poof stubbornly back into place. Nothing could stop my hair from getting its way—not hair gel, pomade, or the hand of God.
I glared at my hair, which accomplished nothing but made me feel better.
My phone buzzed on the counter, distracting me from my internal argument with my body image. It was my friend Spencer. He was the one who suggested I leave the house tonight, and the reason I was spending Friday night dolling myself up in the mirror.
Spencer: u almost ready?
Me: Almost
Spencer: wearing ur sunday best? ;)
A laugh snuck out of me. The winky emoticon was a nod to the fact that the club was vampire-themed, the unholiest of all creatures. I wondered if actually wearing one's Sunday best would tickle the actors with a dark sense of humor, or if it was actively frowned upon. I'd never been to any sort of club, kinky or otherwise, so I had no clue what to expect. If it wasn't for Spencer's agreement to come with me, I never would've worked up the nerve to try.
I snapped a photo of my reflection and texted him back.
Spencer: lookin good!
Spencer: ur gonna have fun for sure :)
The way he phrased it made it seem like he wasn't coming. Or maybe that was my constant anxiety talking. With a slight furrow in my brow, I texted him again.
Me: don't you mean "we"? lol
Spencer: oops, right. WE are gonna have fun
For added playfulness, he sent a wacky emoji with its tongue sticking out.
His reply calmed me down. There was no way I'd ever muster the courage to try this sort of thing on my own. Without Spencer by my side, I'd probably have an anxiety attack and pass out on the club floor, and I had no desire to further embarrass myself in my life. All the time I’d wasted as Brayden's verbal punching bag was embarrassing enough.
With a few final touches to my appearance, I examined myself in the mirror. I looked fine, I guess. Normal as ever. Below the stubborn blond hair that sat on my head like a bird's nest, I had chubby cheeks that gave me a boyish quality, making me look younger than 28. Suddenly I worried they wouldn't let me into the club at all despite having a perfectly valid piece of ID.
"Stop freaking out so much," I said to my reflection. "Everything's gonna be fine."
Saying things out loud helped sometimes. It was one of the things my therapist advised me to do if I was feeling anxious, which was more often than not. When that didn't work, she suggested a few breathing exercises. There were other methods as well, but right now they all melted out of my head like goo. All I could think about was my one giant blond cowlick and how I hoped nobody at the club noticed it.
When I was satisfied with my outfit—a simple white shirt and jeans, nowhere near my Sunday best—I headed out to grab my ride.
Just before waltzing out the front door, I remembered something.
"Oh, crap!"
I ran back to the bathroom. My container of iron pills sat on the counter like an abandoned puppy. I could imagine them saying 'Scotty, don't forget us!'
It was a good thing I didn't. My anemia kicked my ass when I didn't manage it. I experienced fatigue all over, killer headaches, and turned as pale as the fake vampires at the club. When it got really bad, I even passed out. Thankfully it wasn't too hard to deal with. My daily iron pills and managing my diet helped me live a normal-ish life, constant anxiety aside.
I downed a thick pill with orange juice, then ran down to the hired car idling by the curb. Spencer wasn't inside. I figured the driver's route was closer to my apartment than his, and we'd pick him up on the way there. But when the driver took a strange route to Spencer's place, I started getting nervous.
"Um, I think you missed a turn," I said.
"Hm?"
