"What?" I laugh, raising a brow at them.
Antoine blinks, "I'm just waiting for you to back out."
"Of plans wejustmade? What excuse could I possibly give you?"
With a shrug, he lists one by one, "Family emergency, flat tire, ooh maybe the plague!"
Their surety that I'm going to cancel on them prickles at the back of my throat, a pressure I can't shake. The last thing I want is to be the kind of person they don't believe they can count on to follow through.
"Have I ever pulled out of plans we've made before?" I ask.
"Well, no," Kelly tilts her head to the side, thinking. "But you've never agreed to any plans before. I guess we aren't sure what to expect."
With my computer shut down, I pull my black faux leather bag over my shoulder and usher them out of my office.
"It's going to be fun," I assure them. "I'm really excited. I've heard Mingle is stunning inside."
The walk down to our cars is mostly just theorizing about what it might look like and be like, what to expect in terms of drink prices, and whether we need to stop for something to eat beforehand, in case they don't offer many food choices.
By the time I make it home, I'm actually feeling excited about the prospect of hanging out with them. Usually, the only human interaction I have is at work or with the people who already know me at Mingle.
But tonight, I'm going to be someone I'm usually not anymore. Someone who lets people know her.
Well, a little bit.
Some things I'll keep for just me.
At 9:03, I step out of my apartment complex and climb into a massive dark green car, filled to capacity with people.
Kelly and Antoine squeal with excitement as I clamber in, having started the party already, if the mild scent of vodka surrounding them is anything to go by.
They're both dressed for a night out: she in a glittering silver dress, he in a black button-up and slacks.
Seeing them outside of a professional environment is almost jarring, but that's my own fault. My isolation has led to my not knowing who they are aside from their work personas.
Antoine only gives me a brief second of friendly attention before his sights are back on Kelly, giggling under his arm in the cramped back seat.
On his opposite side sits a man dressed similarly in black pants, but in a short-sleeve button-up of dark green, showing off his chest and arm tattoos.
The driver, a woman probably my age, pulls out into the road as I buckle, shouting over the music, "Hi! I'm the roommate's cousin, Grace, this is my girlfriend, Lena. The quiet one in the back is Mitchel with one L, and the one you're next to is Michaell with two L's. The two drunkies started about two hours ago, but the rest of us are sober."
I grin, waving at everyone and introducing myself.
"Sober... for now," Lena grins.
"Yeah," Grace chuckles, "Yeah, the rest of you are gonna be a bit of a mess before too long. Mingle has notoriously strong drinks that don't taste as devious as they are. My cousin and I have been there a few times since she's dating the head bartender. Stella promised to take good care of us tonight even though Enid won't be there."
Stella. Shit.
I was hoping to avoid direct contact with her, or at least explain the situation before she blows my cover.
The ride flies by smoothly, chatting about work and the week before, what everyone has coming up in the one ahead.
Antoine pipes up, suddenly changing the subject to something he actually has interest in, "Have you guys been following that case?"
"The hot serial killer?" Grace asks. "Everyone at dispatch keeps talking about it."
"Oh, my god! Tell me everything," Antoine begs.
