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“No, I’m okay.”
“Ali, about what I said at the wedding,” Eli begins. “I shouldn’t have gone that hard.”
“Yes, you should have,” Ali counters. “You were right. I led him on for way too long while I was confused.”
“But still. I’m sorry that I was kind of a dick. You’re my friend, but he’s my brother.”
“I know. Besides, what do you think? That I couldn’t handle it? I’m not some soft little bitch, Maddison,” Ali adds with a laugh.
“Hell no, you’re not, Bertoli.” Eli swings his arm around the little New Yorker.
This is the first time I’ve seen Ali smile since the wedding, and I could not be happier that she’s starting to feel like herself again. The version she truly is.
“Have you seen Cam?” She turns towards me. “I should go wish him a happy birthday.”
“I have a feeling that between the time he texted you back and when you got here, he went home with someone. Or multiple someone’s. He’s been pretty popular tonight.”
“Good for him.”
“What are you doing here?” Marc spews.
“Marc,” I interject.
“No, Logan,” he slurs. “You avoid me for ten days then show up here?” His attention is all on Ali, anger in his eyes.
“Marc, I know we need to talk—”
“No, fuck that!”
“Bro,” Eli chimes in, trying to calm him down.
“You had ten fucking days to talk to me, Alison. The last thing I’m going to do tonight is to talk to you.”
“Marcus,” Ali says, shock in her tone.
“Why don’t you see if your little fuck buddy from the other night wants to talk. I’m sure he’ll be down to listen to your bullshit.”
“Marcus Jones, what the hell?” I yell at him. I don’t care if he’s drunk or not. He’s never spoken to anyone this way.
“I didn’t sleep with him!” Ali shouts. “What you think you saw is not what you saw.”
“I don’t give a shit what I saw.” Marc takes a long swig from his beer. “Because I don’t give a shit about this anymore.” He motions between Ali and him. “I don’t give a shit about anything anymore.”
Marc and Ali hold eye contact for a moment before he turns on his heel, heading out towards the dance floor.
Eli, almost equally as drunk, thankfully has the mental wherewithal to chase after him and stop him from making another mistake.
“I gotta go,” Ali says before rushing towards the exit.
“Ali, wait!” I chase her down, my long legs catching her in no time. “You don’t need to leave.”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice is shaky, her eyes welling with tears.
“Then, I’ll go with you.”
“No.” She shakes her head and wipes her fallen tears. “You have your hands full tonight. You have to make sure they get home. I know you’re trying to be a good friend, but I’m okay.”
I nod in defeat, knowing my stubborn New Yorker isn’t going to allow me to follow her home. And I truly do need to stay. These boys are starting to get a little rowdy, and I need to get them home.
