“Jared’s such bullshit, huh?” she asked, shooting me a sympathetic look.
“He’s harmless,” I said, repeating the same thing I told myself every time we spoke.
“I know, but still. I’m sorry he talks to you like that. You should tell him to go fuck himself.”
Oh, to be twenty-one again and think the world was that simple.
“I would, but I’m afraid he’d think that was an invitation.”
Addie nodded, smacking her lips as she applied a new coat of bright purple lip gloss. Not for the first time, I felt a sharp stab of regret. I’d never been cool and hip, not even when Iwastwenty-one. Purple lip gloss and cute miniskirts and telling asshole men to fuck off had never been in my skill set.
What kind of person would I be if I’d grown up normal like Addie, not a number-crunching savant who didn’t understand the first thing about the real world beyond her calculator and slide rule?
Satisfied with her lip gloss, she turned to me again. “Can I say just, like, one thing, though?”
“Sure.”
Her words slurred slightly, but there was a fondness to them I couldn’t deny. “And to preface: I don’t mean it in a weirdo-Jared way, but in a drunk-girlfriends-in-a-bathroom way. It’s just that I’ve, like, noticed that you’re not super, you know, like, outgoing or whatever. You keep to yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go out to one of these things unless Clara forces you. And do you ever date or anything?”
“Not really. I like my job. I put most of my energy into work,” I said.
“A job isn’t a life, girl. And I think you’re crazy hot. Andsmart. And accomplished and stuff. You should be, like, out there having all the sex, living it up all around town, partying with your girls. It might take a little of the pressure off at work if you did, you know, more nights like this. I mean, come on. You and me—we work in a boys’ club. There aren’t a ton of female mechanical engineers out there. We’ve gotta stick together, mama.”
She gave a little shoulder shimmy that I assumed was meant to be a dance. I rolled my eyes.
“Did Clara put you up to this pep talk?”
Her face contorted and I realized I’d said the wrong thing.Shit.“Whatever. I was trying to be a friend. Sorry. Forget I said anything.”
Yet another example of why I didn’t talk to people outside the office. I couldn’t get through a simple bathroom pep talk without hurting someone.
As she stalked through the swinging door, I realized that she wasn’t talking generally. She had said all of that because she wanted to be my friend. That was why she’d been hurt. She thought I just didn’t want to be friends withher.
Steeling myself, I left the bathroom to find her and apologize.
However, the televisions in the bar were on an evening news channel. A poppyEntertainment Tonight–style show. When I glanced up at the flickering screens, a bottomless pit opened in the center of my stomach. I staggered to a stop. All thoughts of Addie and apologies flew from my mind.
The news story was, apparently, about Lloyd Exeter and a recent appearance onTheJoe Rogan Experience.
I grabbed two tequila shots from a random table and downed them—one right after the other. Then a third for good measure.
Built like a homecoming king, Lloyd had sharp-featured, all-American good looks. Once upon a time, the sight of him filled me with butterflies. Now, alligators. Or some other scary animal with sharp teeth and predator energy.
Jared noticed me lingering at the back of the bar and waved me over to the empty seat between him and Terrence. “Hey, Scout! You used to work for him, right? Talk about a blast from your past.”
A blast from the past always sounded like a nice thing in theory, but in this case,blastmeant “fiery explosion” rather than “good time.” However, with the attention of all our coworkers squarely on me, when he waved again, I had no choice but to join them.
The television volume increased, and Lloyd’s laugh filled the bar’s speakers. Again, the laws of thermodynamics were clear on the practice of time travel. I knew that. But as I watched, it was like I’d been transported through the years to my old self—the one who’d fallen head over heels for him…and ruined her life because of it.
“So you’re getting into the sex toy game. What’s the story there?”
“You’re gonna laugh.”
“No, man. I think it’s cool.”
“Well, there was this chick I used to fuck…”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Clara get up from a cozy corner booth and rush back behind the bar, but I paid her no mind.
