I get frustrated and start picking people up to move them when they won’t move. I get fondled a little, and a few guys make passes at me, but in the end, it’s effective, and I make it to the bar. Archangel is nowhere to be found.
Where the hell could he have gone?
He better not have gone home.
I pull up my phone tracker and check his location. He’s still in the building, and I zoom in. It looks like the bathroom. I order another shot and wait, but he doesn’t return. One shot turns into three, and I’m pretty far into lit.
It’s been like twenty minutes, so I check his location again. He’s still in the bathroom.
“Fuck it.” I push off the bar and sway toward the bathroom. I shove into the Pepto-Bismol pink and a little abrasive bathroom. I squint, blinded by the light reflecting off the high-gloss walls.
“Has no one here ever heard of semi-gloss?!” I shield my eyes as they adjust, looking for Archangel. “If you’re hooking up in a stall and let me just stay out there waiting for you, I’m gonna…” My words trail off as the idea that’s what he’s doing really sets in. I turn to leave and nearly walk into him.
Archangel’s eyes are red-rimmed, and his face is splotchy. He’s been crying.
My attitude completely shifts. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m ready to go home.”
“Why are you crying?” I wrap my arms around him.
He doesn’t fight me, but presses into my chest.
“Angel.” I tilt his face up, but he shakes his head. “Did I do something?”
“No.” He manages, barely.
“I thought we were having a good time.”
“It’s too much.”
“What is?”
“This is impossible,” he whispers, refusing to look at me any longer.
“What is impossible? What happened? We just talked about going to the wedding together. I thought we were good? I’m so damn confused.”
“My sister is demanding I bring my date to her shower so she can meet him before the wedding if I want a plus one.”
“Okay,” I say, not understanding the issue.
“It’s in two weeks, so you’d have to fake being my boyfriend the whole season. She’ll know.”
Oh.
FIVE
WOLFE
I’m a hugger, always have been. Being a teddy bear, it’s kind of the default. But I may be the most awkward person ever when someone is upset. It used to send me into a state of panic when a woman cried. I’m slightly better now, but I’m still like a more awkward version of the guy using a broom to comfort someone. I don’t shy away from it, but what does one even do?
Panic settles into my chest when the whole crying thing doesn’t resolve. I’m letting him down, but I don’t know how to fix it. I suggested this a little selfishly at first because fuck Stephanie, but now I want to do it just to make him happy. But maybe I’m an idiot and making it all worse.
I wish I could see into his damn brain and figure out what he needs me to do. I’d do anything.
If only he knew that.
“I’m confused,” I say at length.
