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Ring, ring, ring... A buzz vibrates in my jeans pocket.
Perfect timing!
I whip out my phone, squinting at the caller I.D. The letters blur into one, then duplicate into three, swaying uncontrollably.
"Oh, no." Mei hovers over my phone. "You don't want to—"
Click. "Hellooo?"
"Juliana! Oh my—thank God. I've been looking all over for you. Juliana, I'm—"
A smile blooms across my lips at his voice. "Oh, heyyyyyy there, Haydennnn." From my peripheral, I catch Mei pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes tightly.
What's her deal?
"Uhmmm, are you...?"
I giggle. "Am I what?"
"Drunk."
A laugh spills out of me. "Whaaattt, noooo! Well..." I twirl a strand of hair, biting my lip. "Maybe a li'l bit. I'm waitin' in line to pee." I suck in a breath. Why did I tell him that?! So stupid! Oh, whatever.
A little snort comes through the line, but Hayden's amusement is short-lived. "What frat are you at, Jules?"
My brow furrows. Why does he sound so serious? And—wait, hold up. "Heyyy, how do you know I'm at a frat party?"
"Because they all play the same shitty music."
Yet another giggle escapes me. "Wow, thaaasss pretty schmart of you."
"Oh, yeah? I'm sure you really mean that. Now, fess up," he coos in a flirtatious tone. "Tell me which frat you're at."
I sink my teeth into my lower lip as an inexplicable tingling sensation tightens in my belly. "I dunnooo..." I answer honestly. "I could ask M—Heeeyyy, wait a minnit. I'm 'sposed to be mad at you."
Silence spreads through the line until, "You can be mad at me at home, where I know you're safe."
Home.
My anger resurfaces, raging through my drunken state, as we inch closer to the bathroom, with only one guy ahead of us. Hayden thinks he can call that penthouse my home, after what he did to me? There's a reason I came here tonight. To forget about him.
"Juliana—"
"You can shhtop righ' there." I jut my hand out, as if he can see it. "I'm not tellin' you where I am, ssssho quit ashkin'. Don' wanna be 'round you."
Oh, no. I gasp in a moment of mental clarity. Is that what I really sound like? I look to Mei, who props a hand on my shoulder and purses her lips at me in a way that says, yeah, you really do, and you're not even supposed to be talking to him.
Shit. She's right.
I unclench and clench my fist repeatedly, nostrils flaring as I push thoughts of the indie showcase from my head—and blink away the sadness that accompanies the memory, enduring the unwelcome mental clarity it brings. Breathing deep, I focus on my speech. "I don't. Want to. See. You."
More silence. "Juliana," I ignore the wobble in his voice, that feigned concern. He's just trying to lure me back into his web. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but if you would just—"
In a flash, I bring the butt of the phone to my lips, an inch from the microphone. "I said. I don't. Want. To see you." There. That should do it. I hold the speaker to my ear, only to hear more of his nonsense. With a deep sigh, I prepare for another round, bringing the microphone back to my li—
"YO, BRO, TAKE THE HINT. SHE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU."
I stumble back a step, bumping into Mei, stunned as the guy at the line's front retreats from the phone and shoots me a wink. "You're welcome," he says, then saunters toward the now-vacant bathroom.
