“Wh-what did you say? How the hell would you know about eloping?”
Oh fuck.
My drunk mind has a mouth of its own.
“Just what I heard.” I shrug it off, but even to my drunk ears, I hear the lie clear as day.
“Help me.” She tries to get up, only to keep falling back. She looks like a fish out of water flopping around.
“You look ridiculous down there.” I chuckle. I put my hand out to help her, not even batting an eyelash at her clumsiness causing her to fall off the stool.
“I know you’re lying.” She glares at me.
“I am not, thank you very much.” I take another sip so she can’t see my tell.
She says my lip twitches when I lie, which made for an awkward friendship in the beginning when she would ask me about her wardrobe.
“Don’t be daft. I know you better than you know yourself. If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll call one of the two people who will know.”
“Oh yeah, and who’s that?” I ask.
“Sadie or Jackson, duh,” her drunk, high-pitched voice sings.
“I-I… I… Oh, fuck.” This is when my brain decides it can’t make coherent sentences. I know we drank a lot, but get it together, Annabelle.
“You better start talking.” She crosses her arms with gusto, causing her to almost fall back again.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, real tough.”
“Annabelle Hughes,” she warns.
I gulp down my fear, then gulp down another shot. I pass Lola one, knowing she’ll need it when I tell her about Jack. After all this time, I’m finally telling someone. Even though Jackson and I agreed to keep it a secret, I need this.
I feel lighter as the words come out fast and in a ramble.
Every other second, Lola has another exaggerated reaction. Gasping, arms flailing, fake hyper-ventilating.
She’s a very dramatic drunk.
“Lately, though, I’ve been thinking, for my own mental health, it’s time we finalize the end. It probably isn’t the best idea to stay married to your lifelong crush.”
She takes my hand. “No. No. You can’t end it. Jackson’s your One. You’re meant to be together.”
“I don’t think he would agree,” I admit sadly. And even if he did, I’m not sure it would ever work with his lifestyle. I would always be questioning his past.
Childhood trauma will do that to you.
“Although I don’t remember much from Vegas, I can assure you the two times we’ve been together were magical. So we know we’re a fit in that department.”
“Twice? I thought it was just on the trip.”
I cringe at my slip. What the hell is wrong with me tonight?
No one knows about the time when we were younger, and I never wanted anyone to know.
I was going through the toughest period in my life at the time it happened, and it’s not something I like to share.
Though, now that it’s out there, I’m sure it won’t hurt to tell her just about that one night, since I’m just letting all my secrets free today.
