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“What?? Oh, yeah, okay! I’ll come with you!” he replies, yelling in my ear.
We move away through the crowd and head toward the bar on the right. It’s a little quieter here, and we still have a good view of the stage, thanks to our great tickets.
“Oh, goodness, what madness! I knew he was loved. But this is insane!” Evan grins looking at the frenzied fans.
“Yeah. I could say the same about you!” I reply.
“What?”
“Never mind. Two lemonades, please!” I order.
The woman behind the bar—a redhead with her arms covered in tattoos that reminds me a little of Carol, minus the tattoos, of course—smiles and cannot stop staring at Evan.
I groan and roll my eyes.
“Emmy, are you alright?” he asks me.
“I’m fine.” I can hear myself saying the words and I hate it.
Because I’m not fine.
I’m jealous.
And I hate that I’m jealous, because it means my friends might be right…
“Seriously? You don’t look ‘fine.’” He puts air quotes around the word and laughs.
“I don’t know. I guess when I came here tonight, I expected Harry Styles to be the star of the show but, to my surprise, it’s you, Evan.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The woman behind the bar. The girls in the crowd. All these women just can’t stop staring at you! It makes me…”
“It makes you what? I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Look, this conversation is far too serious for this occasion. We came here to have some fun, didn’t we?” I take a sip of my lemonade but it’s much too sour.
Or maybe I am.
“I don’t know anymore. Why don’t you tell me, Emmy? Why did we come here tonight?” he asks me.
I stare up at him, my turn to be confused. “To see Harry Styles?”
“No. That’s not what I mean. Why did you ask me to go to this concert with you?” he insists.
“Because Larisa gave me these two tickets. She was supposed to go with Gianluca, but they couldn’t anymore. She gave them to me instead and I thought that I’d ask you,” I explain. “We love going to concerts together, right? We’ve been to a million of them since we were children.”
His face grows a little darker now. “I see. So, this was just another concert that we were meant to see as best friends?”
“Yes.”
“One of many?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, then. Fine.” He gulps down half his lemonade and spills some on his chin.
I reach out with my left hand and wipe it off. The sweet and sticky liquid comes clean off his soft skin.
