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In the dim lighting, I can’t really see them clearly, but even if I could, I’m no aficionado. I can say what I do or do not like, but that’s about it. Ben’s tattoos, for example. Those I like. A lot.
Before my mind can travel down that off-limits road again, the bathroom door swings open. And, of course, the occupant is none other than Annabelle herself.
Have I mentioned that I have fantastic luck?
“Oh”—her voice is lower now and slightly slurred—“it’s you.”
I notice the vodka clutched in her left hand. Not a cup. A bottle.
“Yeah. Just need to use the bathroom. There’s a long wait downstairs.” I don’t like awkward situations. Who does? But I also don’t tend to cower from them. I just bulldoze my way through till we’re past it.
“By all means, take my toilet. You’ve taken everything else.”
Well, that was uncalled for. And inaccurate.
“If you’re referring to Ben, I haven’t taken him from you. Because he’s not an object to be handed around. Sorry if you’re upset. He’s a great guy, and it not working out probably sucks. But blaming me is silly. I didn’t even know him when you two ended things.” The speech spills out in a frantic rush because I’m getting awfully close to performing the pee-pee dance just so I don’t wet myself.
But you can’t reason with drunk girls.
“Why not me?” She glares to the side and talks like I can’t hear her. “What did I do wrong? Is that what he wants? Should I dress all slutty?” Her fingers flick at my outfit, and I clutch my arms around my middle.
“I don’t think—”
She talks over me, “We were perfect. The two of us.” Her eyes grow wet, and I’m at a loss for what to do. “Have you two fucked? We used to, all the time. All over this house.”
“Ugh! Stop!” I don’t want to hear this. I take her by the shoulders and move her out of my way, so I can shut the bathroom door on her too-descriptive words. Still, I hear her moan through the door.
“Do I need to give him a kidney? Will he give a shit about me then? Is that how you got him?” Apparently, vodka destroyed whatever filter Annabelle might have had.
I want to sprint out of the house, but instead, I have to shimmy my underwear down to my ankles and take a moment on the toilet. I hide my face in my hands as I sit there, hoping to somehow erase the idea of Ben having sex with Annabelle all over this house. Probably in this bathroom.
After flushing and washing my hands, I prepare to power-walk with my ears covered. But the hall is empty when I leave the relative safety of the bathroom. It’s creepy again, the air up here still, while I can hear the voices and energy muffled downstairs. I jog the length of the hall, half-expecting Annabelle to pop out of one of the bedrooms, brandishing nude photos of her straddling Ben.
When I get to the foot of the stairs, I’m once again surrounded by light and people, which help push away some of the discomfort of the confrontation. But not all of it.
“Ready to go?” Ben stands up from the couch armrest he was perched on and offers my coat.
While he holds it in place, I slip my arms into the familiar sleeves and welcome my layer of armor settling around me. I’m not so exposed anymore. Still, Annabelle’s words are splinters, burrowing under my skin. I have trouble looking at Ben without imagining what she said.
And not just the sex part.
We walk out into a night chillier than when we arrived. Even more of an excuse for me to huddle into myself.
“Is that how you got him?”
There are some girls who’ve made an art of finding others’ vulnerable spots and then just picking at them.
She practically read my mind, my fears of Ben only being nice to me because of what I could do for him.
Then, there’s the shame of knowing that’s what my intention was when I first decided to spend time with him. Keeping Ben happy means keeping cousin Fred happy, which means Marcus will get his kidney. But, now, I just want to be around Ben because of him.
That doesn’t mean that Ben feels the same.
I flinch when his warm hand grasps mine. He opens my fingers and slides the cool car keys into my palm. Somehow, without me even realizing it, we’re already at his car.
Just a short drive and a long night of work before I can go home and bury myself in my bed.
BEN
