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Worth a Shot

Page 106

by Amy Ewing

She showed up at eight and almost immediately turned back around again. The place was packed, the music was loud, and Cordelia couldn’t see anyone she knew. She was beginning to remember why she avoided New Year’s parties in the first place. It was all too much – too much pressure to have fun, to get drunk, to kiss someone at midnight.

“Cordie!” Liz exclaimed, clearly well into the champagne already. “Come in, I want you to meet some people.”

She allowed herself to be led around and introduced to other interior designers Liz worked with, and then Meena was there pressing a gin and tonic into her hand.

“She’s gone all out, hasn’t she?” Meena said, glancing around at the décor. Liz had those huge golden balloons that spelled out HAPPY NEW YEAR, and everybody got a pair of novelty glasses and a party horn when they arrived. Glittering beads hung in the doorways and a disco ball threw rainbow-colored light across the walls and carpet.

“Yes, she has,” Cordelia said, gulping down half her drink and then going to the kitchen to make another one. She had to skirt a couple making out by the stove. Weren’t people supposed to wait till midnight to do that? She threw some ice into her glass and grabbed the bottle of gin.

An hour later, Cordelia was not having any more fun than when she’d arrived. It was loud and hot in Liz’s place, and she didn’t really know anyone else besides Meena. People were dancing and laughing and kissing, and Cordelia felt like a visitor from another planet. It made her so sad all of a sudden. Like she didn’t belong anywhere in this party, but even more than that, like she never would. She couldn’t see this kind of joy for herself anymore.

Get up, get out there, and enjoy the day.

I tried, Dad, she thought weakly. Just then, some guy knocked into her, spilling her drink right down her shirt.

“Oh shit, sorry!” the guy said, but he was laughing and the girl he was with was laughing too. Cordelia was just. Fucking. Done.

“It’s fine,” she said through clenched teeth, then turned on her heel, grabbed her coat, and headed out into the cold December night. She decided to walk home – it would take her thirty minutes but was better than waiting for the subway with all the New Year’s partygoers. She was turning into such a grouch. She texted Liz to say she’d left and apologized for not saying goodbye.

What had Niall called it? An Irish goodbye.

Her heeled boots were starting to hurt by the time she reached her apartment and she left a trail of clothes in her wake as she stripped and headed to the bathroom to run herself a shower.

What is Niall doing right now?

She had to stop thinking that, but it was like an evil little Whac-A-Mole lived inside her brain, popping up to wonder this same question every five minutes. It didn’t matter what Niall was doing. She’d finally bit the bullet and sent nearly all the shots she’d taken of him to Kate (let her decide which ones to use), so once this book was done, she could move on. Maybe that was what had been holding her back.

She turned the hot water off and changed into the reindeer onesie Nikki had gotten her. It was really comfortable, fleece-lined with a zipper up the front, and Cordelia didn’t care that she looked ridiculous, or that she’d left a New Year’s Eve party to hang out at home, alone in silly Christmas pajamas. She put on an episode of Murder in the Heartland, poured herself some wine, and boiled water for ramen.

She could have whatever kind of goddamn New Year’s Eve she liked. This was as good as a party. Better even. Because here, alone in her apartment, she didn’t have to pretend everything was fucking fine.

A thought occurred to her – she hesitated, then gave in. What did it matter? She was already the most pathetic sad sack the world had ever seen. May as well put the cherry on top.

Cordelia went into her room and picked up the grass ring from its perch on her nightstand. She still kept it there. Like a freaking masochist.

She slipped the ring onto her finger – the grass was brittle now but still held its shape. She stared at it for a moment, wondering what her life might be like if she’d been a bit selfish, if she’d said yes instead of no.

“Don’t be stupid,” she said out loud. Her mother was right, getting married was not the solution. She just wanted a world where she could be with Niall. That was all. But what’s done is done, as her father used to say. She sighed. This was going to be the last time she wore his ring. She had to throw it away. It was time to move on.

I can wear it tonight, though, she thought viciously and stomped back to the kitchen to add the seasoning packet to her ramen. She was slurping her noodles and watching her crime show when the doorbell rang. She frowned and stayed where she was – maybe someone in the building was having a party and the stupid guests had gone to the wrong apartment. She certainly wasn’t expecting anyone.

The doorbell rang again. Maybe Liz had come to try and drag her back to the party, though Liz had seemed pretty tipsy by the time Cordelia left. Then again, Drunk Liz could be very assertive.

The doorbell rang again.

“Okay, I’m coming,” Cordelia snapped, storming over and throwing open her door.

Standing there . . . in her hallway . . . in New York . . . was Niall.

“Hello,” he said quietly.

Cordelia just stared. He looked exactly the same – thick black hair falling over his forehead, a shadow of stubble across his jaw. His eyes were bluer than she remembered, as if her mind couldn’t do them justice. He even smelled like Niall: driftwood and wool.

Oh fuck. She’d gone over the edge. She was actually hallucinating now.

Niall’s brow furrowed. God, she’d missed that.

“Cordelia?” he said.