Part 51 (1/2)
”Mmm.” Maybe leaving soon is a better idea.
We hit the pub early and the place has filled since I last looked around. Lots of blurry people.
”I miss him,” says Nita.
”Who?”
”Nate. He's funny. Cool guy.” She points at me with one finger from the hand she's holding around her gla.s.s. ”I swear he was into you.”
”Sure. Like I'm his type.”
”Just saying. Maybe he stopped coming because he couldn't handle you'd hooked up with Ethan.” She giggles. ”Nice catch there.”
I smile drunkenly to myself. He sure is. We're officially dating and he's a sweetheart. Respectful guy who sends romantic texts and understands when I can't see him because of study.
”He's special,” I say. ”Sam?” I hold the gla.s.s out.
As Sam slides off the bench seat to head to the bar, I take advantage of the s.p.a.ce and pay a visit to the bathrooms. I hold the sink and look at my drunk self in the mirror. Days like these where the world is straightforward, everything in its place, are somehow happier when alcohol flows through too.
I'm not one to admire myself, and maybe the soft focus of drink helps, but I had to admit to myself that I'm lucky to look okay with no make-up on. Some girls hide behind it, as with anything about me, you get what you see.
Stepping into the growing volume of music and voices in the small pub, I head back to the table. On the way over, I spot the guy I've been thinking about at the bar. Ethan. He's side view and my heart rate picks up remembering our time together the other night as I walk over. I came close to relenting and spending the night with him, but we've only been together a couple of weeks and I need to see how serious we become first.
”Hey,” I say and smile.
Ethan looks around in surprise. ”Fleur. I thought you had study group tonight.”
”We're celebrating instead. Aced it!”
”Oh. Cool. Well done.”
The guy he's with laughs and Ethan shoots him a look.
”Come and sit with us,” I say, indicating my friends.
”It's okay; I'm not staying long.”
The guy he's with chuckles again. ”He's busy tonight.”
”That's okay! We can catch up tomorrow.” No way do I want to come across as the clingy girlfriend.
”Sure thing.”
I tiptoe to kiss Ethan and he turns his face so I hit his cheek instead. Suspicion finally pushes through my drunken haze. ”Everything okay?”
Ethan pushes some hair from my face. ”Sure thing, I need to go though.”
”You just arrived.”
He glances over my shoulder then closes his eyes, face scrunching up.
”Ethan, honey.”
A girl sidles up to him and wraps an arm around Ethan's waist.
What the h.e.l.l? I steady myself on the bar. Do I know her? Yes. This is the girl from the party Will humiliated me at. Has he been with her all this time?
”Fleur...” he begins.
My usual ability to conjure witty comebacks hasn't accompanied me tonight. The nausea gripping my stomach is no longer alcohol induced and it's a b.l.o.o.d.y good job I hold onto enough sobriety to stop myself making a scene.
b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
I take a deep breath and fix my eyes on his. Ethan looks away.
b.l.o.o.d.y b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
”Right. I understand.” I turn and head back to the table where Nita watches me with concern.
”I was going to come and find you when I saw him,” she says. ”I'm sorry. Do you want to go?”
”What? No!” I s.n.a.t.c.h my fresh drink from the table and drink half of the gla.s.s in one go. ”Just because he's an d.i.c.khead, doesn't mean he should ruin my night. I need vodka in this.”
Nita looks at me dubiously. ”Okay...”
”We'll stay for a couple more and then let's go to Discovery.”
”Discovery?”
”Yeah. Student night. Haven't been all term. Thought we were celebrating.”
Slumping back in my seat, I watch as Ethan heads out of the pub with his friend and the girl. I should've expected this to happen when I refused s.e.x with him. I guess he's not one for waiting around. a.r.s.ehole.
”She's wasted.” Steph's voice from nearby but far away.
”I know. I told her to stop.” Nita.
”Did you call a cab?”
”At this time? And how much cash do you think I have?”
”How are we going to get on the b.l.o.o.d.y bus when she can't stand?”
My hair hangs in my face and I stare at the sticky carpet. The music grows louder, then quieter again as a door opens and closes. ”I'm okay.”
Anne crouches down and I attempt to focus on her face. ”Do you feel sick?”
”No,” I mumble.