Page 131 of Face Off With Fate

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Ari:

I’ll whistle and dip right after. I’ve already heard his speech a million times

Me:

No, stay. I’ll be fine.

Ari:

I can tell when you’re lying

Ari:

I’ll make it up to him with a blow job. It’s fine.

I stood in the parking garage, heels dangling from two fingers because I couldn’t stand to be in them for one more second.

Couldn’t stand to be in there for one more second.

Ari pulled up and I slid in. My dress bunched up high enough that the leather chilled the backs of my thighs.

She took one look at my face and drove. The car was quiet. Nothing but the clicking of her turn signal and the low hum of the air conditioning.

The window glass cooled my temple as I watched people spill out of bars. Everyone out there was having a perfectly normal Saturday night. Meanwhile, my life was falling apart for a third time.

I dug my thumbnail into the edge of my gold polish and peeled a flake of it away.

All ten nails were practically bare by the time we walked into my apartment.

It felt strange. Too quiet. Too still.

Like it was holding its breath right along with me.

I dropped onto the couch, satin fabric pooling around me on the cushions.

The armchair creaked as Ari settled into it across from me, feet tucked up underneath her, watching me.

“Okay,” she said. “Spill.”

I gnawed on the inside of my lip. Where to fucking start?

“Tyra was there.”

Ari went still. “At the awards?”

I nodded, pulling the throw pillow into my lap and holding it like a life raft. “She cornered me in the hallway while I was getting some air.” I paused. “She’s running a piece on Monroe…”

The only sound in the apartment was a group of college kids passing outside the window, their voices rising and falling. Someone shrieked with laughter.

I hated that they were happy.

No, that wasn’t quite right.

I hated that my happiness was gone.

“What kind of piece?” Ari asked after the noise passed.