Even the photos I know he’s in, he’s been cut out of.
Finding Jenna amongst the crowd, I pull her into a corner to get her alone.
"Are you having fun?" she yells over the loud bass vibrating through every inch of the venue.
"Would you believe me if I said yes?” My voice remaining monotone. She shakes her head in response.
"I’m sorry. I’m trying,” I assure her. “How did you pull this off, anyway?” It’s my turn to speak over the music. My poor ears are going to be ringing tomorrow.
"I had nothing to do with it.” She shrugs as she places the tip of a paper straw between her dark red lips.
"What are you talking about?”
"Don’t be mad, C. Austin’s been working on this for months. He planned everything with the help of Frankie and Janelle. He handed me the reins a couple of days ago with instructions on getting you here on time, but that’s all.”
He did this.
"Is he coming?” I ask, hopeful, but I know my hope is wasted when she shakes her head in response.
"He wanted to, but I told him no. It’s too soon, and I didn’t think it was a good idea. Please don’t hate me.” She squeezes my forearm as an apology.
She only wants what’s best for me, and I know she has nothing but good intentions. I also know she made the right call, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.
I don’t want to dwell on something I can’t change.
I chug the rest of my drink in the hopes it numbs the pain.
"Hey honey,” my mom’s sister says as she pulls me in for an embrace.
"Hi, Aunt Elly,” I say as I reciprocate the hug.
"Happy birthday. Are you enjoying yourself?” Her face softens as she reaches for my hand, and I know she’s concerned about me, but she doesn’t want to pry. I want to respond with,"tonight fucking sucks, and I wish I never left my bedroom”, but I don’t.
I choose to smile and nod while taking a sip of my drink and decide not to linger, excusing myself while I head to the restroom for a breather.
Resting my hands on the sink in front of me, I close my eyes and will myself to take deep breaths.
It’s how I’ve gotten through the last three weeks whenever I’m in an unwanted public setting.
Inhale, hold for three seconds, and exhale for three seconds.
I’m only able to repeat the words to myself twice before a voice to my right interrupts. "You look like you’re having a rough night,” he says. His voice is deep, and it startles me.
"You could say that,” I reply, because my mom raised me to be polite, but I don’t turn to face him. I keep my eyes closed and try to not give him any attention.
Drawing one last breath, I run my hands down the front of my dress to smoothen it out.
"This might be forward, but do you want to get out of here?” And now he has all of my attention, which is precisely what he wanted.
"Excuse me?”
Do I seem like the type to go home with a random guy from a bar?
Because I’m not.
I’ve only ever been with one man in my life.
I’m a relationship kind of girl, not a one-night stand kind of girl.
