Olivia laughed, pushing open the door to Last Chair. There were so few sit-down restaurants in town that there was often a long wait for a table at peak hours, but they were early enough to beat the dinner rush and were seated right away. When their waiter came over, Merritt was chagrined to see it was Simon.
“Simon, hey,” she said, smiling up at him, probably too broadly.
Reel it in.She didn’t want to come off astoofriendly with Niko’s roommate in front of Olivia.
“Hey,” he said without looking at her, then greeted Olivia with more warmth. “I’ll get you some waters.”
As soon as he left the table, Olivia raised her eyebrows at Merritt. “What was that about?”
Merritt studied the menu. “Oh. Um. I don’t know.” She paused. “He’s Niko’s housemate.”
“Yeah, I know he’s Niko’s housemate. Did something happen? You guys haven’t been hanging out as much.”
Merritt kept her eyes cast down. She hated having secrets from Olivia, but the truth would only upset her further. Plus, nothing else was going to happen between them, so why did it even matter? She’d tell her in a few months, once everything had settled down and they could laugh about it.
But for now there was nothing funny about the memory of getting kissed within an inch of her life by someone she was trying to convince herself she should absolutely never kiss again. It made her feel kind of sick, actually.
She shook her head. “You were right about everything. We realized it was a bad idea for us to be spending so much time together, that we should take a step back.”
“Because…he has feelings for you?” Olivia prodded.
Luckily, Simon stopped by and plonked two glasses of water in front of them before Merritt could answer.
Merritt shrugged, a little helplessly. “I’m trying to be good, Liv,” she muttered, once Simon was out of earshot.
Olivia didn’t say anything, just eyed her suspiciously. Then her face slackened, her attention shifting over Merritt’s shoulder. Merritt turned her head, and her heart dropped into her stomach.
Seated at the table behind her were Skylar and Niko.
Merritt whipped her head back around before either of them noticed her, slumping in her seat.
“I thought he would be at poker night,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. A flicker of hurt crossed Olivia’s face.
“Is that why you asked me to hang out tonight? To avoid him?”
Merritt said nothing, heat creeping up her neck, her mouth pressed into a line. Olivia let out a weary sigh, then returned to her menu. Merritt did the same, but the words in front of her may as well have been written in Klingon for all she was absorbing them.
Niko was on a date.
Niko was on a date with Skylar, who was likely a much better match for him in every way.
All her guilt and angst about turning him down had, apparently, been unnecessary, since he had already moved on.
And things would probably get serious right away, because why wouldn’t they? Skylar would move into his house, and then they’d get married, and have three to five adorable children, and live happily ever after, and Merritt would have to witness every step, all alone in her mountaintop house like a witch in a fairy tale, because this town was too goddamn small.
Her face was hot, her pulse throbbing behind her eyes, jealousy burning an acid hole in her stomach lining. She took a deep breath, trying in vain to center herself as Simon returned to take their orders.
Fuck it.
“Could I have a margarita, please?” she asked, ignoring Olivia’s stare.
They ordered for a group much larger than the two of them,indulging Olivia’s pregnancy cravings for fried pickles, loaded tater tots, and burrata.
As soon as Merritt took the first deep, long sip of her drink, it was like a shot of helium to her chest, the weight she’d been carrying for weeks finally lifting. By the time their appetizers arrived, the tension between her and Olivia had eased, too, and they were cackling over Olivia’s dramatic reading of a two-hundred-comment fight one of their cousins was having with their aunt on Facebook. As it usually did, Merritt’s margarita hit her like she’d drunk three, but that didn’t stop her from ordering another one, like she’d never heard of too much of a good thing.
It wasn’t until fifteen minutes after their pizza arrived, when she was staring at herself in the single-person bathroom mirror, that Merritt realized she was completely wasted. She tried to focus on her reflection, even as the lines separating her body from the room behind her blurred and shifted, the moody red-and-purple lighting casting disfiguring shadows over her face.
How did I get here?she wondered, and she meant this bathroom, this town, this situation, this life.
