Conflicted

As the day goes on, my mood improves as my headache eases. I’m having more fun than I’ve had in a while, right up until some dude starts flirting with Lace. I watch, my stomach churning, as he leans against the wall next to where she’s standing in line at the bar, and laughs at something she’s said. Her face colours and she grins. Just like that, I’m back to wishing I’d just stayed in bed.

“Could you be any more obvious?”

My heart pounding, I glance over at Ariel, who is smirking at me. Am I really that transparent? Fuck, I hope not.

“What?” is all I can muster. I focus on reaching over for a glass and filling it with beer from the jug sitting in the middle of the table. I’m not sure my stomach can handle more alcohol at the moment, but I force it down anyway.

“The way you’re staring at her. Or more him. Anyone can see you have a thing for her.”

Anyone? I glance over at Lacey. My heart begins to thump out of control as the sweats begin to set in.

“Well, almost anyone,” Ariel adds, as if reading my mind.

I think about denying it, but what’s the point? I’ll only dig myself a deeper hole. Besides, so fucking what? It’s not like I’m going to do anything about it. Except maybe drag that fuckstick outside and beat the crap out of him. I chuckle to myself. Yep, that would lift my mood.

“Are you going to say anything?” asks Ariel, arching her eyebrow. I scowl at her and she hold her hands up defensively. “I mean, you’re not denying it. If I’m wrong, tell me.”

“What business is it of yours?” I ask. I’m sick her trying to interfere, especially when it comes to trying to hook Lacey up. “Maybe you should be focusing on your own love life, because last time I checked, it wasn’t all that great.”

Ariel’s mouth drops open, her green

eyes filled with hurt.

I sigh, because I know that was a cuntish thing to say. “Look, I’m not into Lacey. I just worry about some loser hurting her. She deserves better.”

“You’re right,” Ariel agrees, “she does deserve better. Better than some guy who can’t man up and admit that he likes her. It’s your loss. She’s not going to be single forever, and one day you’re going to wake up and realise your chance has passed. And you’ll be kicking yourself.”

“I’ll take that chance,” I mutter. She’s right and I hate her for it.

We both shut up as Lacey wanders back over to us carrying a tray of drinks. She sets it down on the table and glances from me to Ariel.

“Everything okay?” she asks, the tension between the two of us obvious.

“Sure it is. What do you think of the band?” I ask. I reach over for my beer and take a sip, half listening to her talk. My tactic worked, and I’ve managed to redirect the conversation. I laugh and tease her about her lack of taste as Ariel glares at me.

Maybe she’s right, but that doesn’t give her the right to stick her nose into things that don’t concern her. In the back of my mind, I’m worried, though. If Ariel has figured it out, how long do I have until Lacey figures out I’m in love with her?

By the time I get home, I’m finally beginning to sober up. I grab my phone from the off the coffee table and check my messages. A number I don’t recognise pops up. It takes me a second to realise who it is. I click on the message.

Eva: Thought I’d better make sure you were still alive.

I chuckle and flop down onto the couch. I click Reply and type out a message.

Me: Still alive. How did you get my number?

Eva: You gave it to me. Well, I gave it to myself when I took your phone. I sent myself a message.

Me: Smart girl.

Eva: Some people might say that. Others might describe it as more stalkerish.

I laugh again. I like Eva and her sense of humour. I’ve only known her a day, but I’m liking her a lot. She’s so easy to talk to. I click Reply.

Me: Yeah, well, you haven’t really lived until you’ve been stalked.

Eva: I know several celebrities who might disagree with that. Wasn’t Whitney Houston murdered by a stalker?

Me: I’m pretty sure that was a movie, and I don’t think she was actually murdered.