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Fucking Cindy.
They’ve been seeing each other on and off for about a year—more off than on—and every time she pops in for a visit, Mike magically disappears.
“Mike’s with Cindy tonight,” I tell Jasmine, who’s still close enough to make me feel like I’m not drinking alone.
She nods and sets down the glass she’s finished drying. “Does that mean I’ll see you later?”
I know I’ll end up at her apartment, but I hate giving her a definite answer this early. “Probably.”
She’s never fazed by my lack of commitment. If anything, I’m sure she’s relieved that I don’t want more.
I’m not exactly upstanding boyfriend material.
“Well, you know where to find me,” she says before walking over to a couple of sad sacks who have been watching her ass for the past ten minutes. I do know where to find her. Honestly, ten years could pass, and I’d still know where to find her because she’d probably still be here.
The door to the bar opens, and I pause mid-sip. It takes me a moment, but I eventually have enough sense to look back at the TV before the bar’s newest occupant sees me staring at her like an idiot.
The TV does a shitty job at holding my attention, but I don’t dare look back at her.
Why the hell is she here?
I’d rather not have this reunion tonight...or ever. Seeing her makes me think of who I used to be and drags up parts of my past that I’d rather leave behind.
2
Claire
It’s official. I’ve hit rock bottom. After worrying that I’d meet someone better, he’s been sleeping with Shelly Velasco the entire time.
If stupidity has ranks, dating long distance for over a year—when everyone said you shouldn’t—just to find out you’ve been cheated on for the majority of that year, has to earn some type of medal.
I’m never trusting my judgment again.
Ever.
The floor has been ripped out from under me, and I’m not sure if my feet will ever hit solid ground. I’m free-falling into an endless spiral of thoughts that are too loud. Since when are thoughts so loud?
We had talked about getting engaged, getting a dog—a Goldendoodle we’d name Noodle—seeing the world together. We had made plans—plans for our future.
Now, those plans are dead.
Of all the things I’m feeling, anger stands out. I’m assuming most people feel angry when they’ve been cheated on, but he’s such a hypocrite. I could never do anything at college because he worried about who would be around me. I had to check in with him constantly, reassure him on more than one occasion, and ultimately, miss out on most of the things my classmates did. All because he decided to drop out at the end of freshman year and move back here to live with his dad. I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad, and I kind of want to break something.
Or scream.
Yeah, maybe I’ll just scream.
I scan the bar I now find myself in to make sure everyone looks like they can handle the yell that’s about to erupt from my throat like a scorching volcano.
It’s a Thursday night, but this place is dead even for those standards. A few older women sit at one end of the bar, then a couple of guys, a tall, dark and handsome bartender, and another bartender with a blonde ponytail that makes her look like she could be Rapunzel’s sister. At least no one I know is—
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Aiden Lewis sits at the bar, and I can’t scream in front of Aiden Lewis. I was hoping I wouldn’t know anyone here. I was hoping the people here would all go home and tell the story of the random girl who stormed into their local establishment and screamed, but if my name gets linked to that story, I’ll never hear the end of it.
On second thought, there’s a chance Aiden doesn’t remember me. It’s not like we stayed in touch after high school, and even back then, we were never close. Well, not really. One night in high school Aiden Lewis saw me, but other than that, I might as well have been invisible. There’s a good chance he didn’t even know my name when I sat next to him in Biology for a year. We didn’t run in the same circles or have the same friends. Let’s just say, he usually spent his Friday nights at parties, while mine were spent sitting in my bedroom listening to the far-away music of those parties.
Girls noticed Aiden in high school, and by the looks of him now, I’d say they probably still notice him. His shoulders are broader than they were back then, and his dark-brown hair that used to rest at his shoulders is shorter now, a tousled mop of dark waves. But other than the added muscle mass and a half-sleeve tattoo poking out from his black t-shirt, he still looks the same.
