“I know. I suck.” I plop down on the couch beside Dani, and Cara joins us.
“Where the hell have you been?” Cara’s voice is accusatory and I can’t even blame her.
“You guys probably wouldn’t believe half the shit that’s been going on.” I give them the overview of everything I’ve been dealing with. I still leave out my relationship with Liam, not knowing if I should confide in them or not. I hope the rest of my problems are enough of an explanation for why I’ve ghosted them the past several weeks.
Once my word vomit subsides, Dani whistles. “Shit. I don’t even know where to start.”
“I do,” Cara adds. “Since your dad isn’t your dad, is it cool if I start calling him a DILF again? Hell, since he and your mom are on the outs, do you think he’d go for me?”
“Ew. I think I just threw up in my mouth.”
My best friend shrugs.
“But for real. We’re going out tonight. You need it and we need some best friend recon. You’re not allowed to say no, so don’t even consider it,” Dani states.
“When have I ever been one to turn down a night out?”
“Um, I don’t know, you tell us since that’s basically been your MO the past month.” I grimace. Cara’s right. I’ve been a shitty friend.
“Well, then I have a lot to make up for.”
An hour later, we’re pulling up to the bar in our Uber. We’re trying a new bar tonight and it looks like they invited the rest of the crew to come along. It’s not as packed in here as Pécher tends to be, but there’s a steady enough stream of people to not classify this place as dead.
The music isn’t painfully loud, which is a nice change of pace. The drinks aren’t overpriced and the booths are big enough to fit all of us in one. The lights are dim but bright enough to still be able to see. There are more tables here than dance floor and it definitely has more of a dive bar feel.
Dani is sitting in the middle of the booth beside her boyfriend. Cara is beside them with a new couple I haven’t seen before. I guess when I went MIA they replaced me with this duo.
I’m sitting on the end of the booth wearing a dress with a high-thigh slit I borrowed from Cara. If I scoot around too much I’ll be flashing everyone my fucking vagina. It wouldn’t be the first time, but now I have Liam to think about.
Someone’s arrival blocks the already-dim lights. I glance up and see Damon standing over us. To no one’s surprise, he slides in right beside me. When will he get a clue?
I take a sip of my beer, careful to pace myself thanks to my meds. I’ve felt good and clear-headed the past week or so. I think the meds are finally in my system and working their magic. Liam told me it would take some time, and I didn’t notice the gradual difference at first, but slowly, I’ve caught my mindset changing.
It’s the little things, but to me they’re big things. Like how I worried what my sister thought of me with the Liam revelation. How I’m putting my boyfriend’s needs ahead of my own. It’s tiny, selfless details, things I never would’ve considered previously. I was selfish before. I’ve even noticed my temperament has calmed down and I’m not as quick to anger.
In part, it’s because of Liam. Being around him calms me. He’s made me a better person, and not just because of my diagnosis and the medication. I’m happier because of him. My mood is lighter and my fuse is longer.
Fuck. Love really is a powerful thing.
But nobody is perfect.
When Damon slides into the booth, part of me reverts to the person I used to be. Mindlessly flirting with him is like a pastime to me. Each of my friends is occupied with their boyfriends or potential hookups. As always, I fall into a pattern with my ex. We speak in hushed whispers and I remember when his charm was enough for him to get into my pants. He doesn’t have any effect on me anymore; it’s not like that. My heart is solely focused on one man, but the familiarity is comfortable.
“You look good, Fletcher. Happy,” he tells me.
“I am happy.”
“I think I have something that would make you happier.”
“I swear to God if you pull out your dick right now…”
He laughs, but it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve fooled around in the booth with my friends beside us.
“No. Something smaller and whiter.”
“Smaller and whiter than your dick? I didn’t know anything like that existed.”
“Ha ha.” He pulls a vial from his pocket filled with white powder.
My heart rate skyrockets as I debate my options. I look around my circle of friends, but no one here is even paying attention. Even if they were, it’s not like they wouldn’t encourage me to do a bump.
My ex’s hand comes to rest on my thigh, mindlessly playing with the fabric at the slit. I watch his fingers, distracted for a moment, when he pulls me back out of it.
“Come on, Flynn. What’s it gonna be?” Damon’s eyes light up with mischief and a smirk pulls at his lips. It’s like he can read my mind, like he knows if he taunts me enough, I’ll cave.
I desperately want to prove him wrong, but you know what they say about old habits. One little line can’t hurt, right?
