I shrugged, hoping that I came across as unbothered. Judging by the look on Josh’s face, I didn’t succeed. “Apparently, contracts needed to be signed.”
“I see.” Josh’s tone held a careful neutrality. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Great. Better than ever. It’s not his fault he’s superbusy and never has time for me. This is what happens when you start getting successful. You don’t have time to spend with your boyfriend. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t seen him in three goddamn—”
“Three whiskey sours,” the bartender said firmly, placing our order on the counter.
It was only then that I realized how loud and animated I’d gotten before the interruption, and my face flushed with embarrassment. The bartender didn’t meet my eye as he took Josh’s card.
“He’s judging me.” I covered my face in shame.
“I think if anyone is used to people complaining about boys, it’s a bartender,” Josh said reassuringly—but he still tipped generously.
Kellan joined us right as we found a high-top to settle at. “I’ve found the perfect song.” He was clearly pleased with himself.
“Congratulations,” Josh said dryly. “You didn’t miss much. Just Ethan having a mini meltdown.”
I glared at him but took a sip of my drink rather than defend myself.
“Oh, because Grey’s busy tonight?” Kellan asked. “What’s his excuse this time?”
“It’s not an excuse,” I said, slightly annoyed I was having to defend Grey when I was already pissed off at him for the very actions I was defending. “He had a reason.”
“Also known as an excuse.”
“Well, contracts won’t sign themselves,” Josh said. “At least it’s a good excuse.”
“Thank you.” I took another drink then sighed. “Who knows? He might be free later tonight. He said he’d try.”
“I hope you get a chance to see him,” Kellan said fervently. “I’m tired of sad, horny Ethan.”
I gave him a playful shove, and we broke into laughter that was soon drowned out by averydrunk girl belting a Taylor Swift song at the top of her lungs. She wasn’t exactly bad, but the mascara running down her face told me she was going through a lot. After she finished, she was ushered off the stage by friends who looked like they were disarming the world’s most sensitive bomb.
My conversation with the boys went from depressing and about Grey to about everything else in life that I’d been too busy to talk about recently. We caught up on how classes were going—Josh had all A’s, and Kellan was thankful for the latest extension his professor had given him—and recent parties and concerts and groups they’d attended. It seemed that I’d missed out on a lot by focusing so much on school and Grey, and for the first time in months, I felt a pang of jealousy for their freedom. Neither of them was waiting by the phone, hoping their boyfriend couldsteal a minute or two to send a text or, if they were really lucky, call.
The night went on with no communication from Grey, and I decided as more alcohol flowed that it was probably better if he didn’t see me tonight. I was toeing the line of way too drunk to be pleasant company to anyone who hadn’t been drinking. About three drinks in at the Hula Lounge, we began to perform some songs ourselves. First was Kellan, who did a stirring rendition of “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion. Josh’s song of choice was called “Hot Mess,” which seemed appropriate. And my song was the same one I always did whenever I was actually drunk enough to sing: “Since You’ve Been Gone” by the only good American Idol, Kelly Clarkson. Maybe I should’ve realized I liked boys sooner with a go-to song choice like that.
We were another three drinks down when my phone finally went off. I picked it up and realized how fucked up I was when I had to close one eye to keep from seeing two of them in my hand. I had to read the message three times before the words sank in. It was Grey.
I’m finally getting out. You still awake?
I responded before I had a chance to stop and think about it.Yeah, I’m out with the guys. Want to meet at your place?
The reply came an instant later:Sounds good. See you soon.
“You’re staring very intently at your phone there,” Josh noted teasingly.
“Grey’s free.” I hated how I could hear the drunkenness in my voice.
“So, it’s fuck us then,” Kellan said, winking when I gave him a shocked expression. “I’m kidding. You should go meet up with him.” He let out a big yawn. “I only have about thirty minutes in me before I pass out anyway.”
Josh laughed, but I was suddenly distracted with an extremely important thought. “I think I love him” came tumbling from my lips.
“You’re just drunk.” Josh waved his hand as if to shoo away my words.
“And maybe dickmatized,” Kellan added.
“No, well, maybe yes a bit to both, but I’ve felt this way for weeks.” I wasn’t sure why—probably the booze—but I desperately needed them to understand just how much I loved my boyfriend. Something about them knowing, about the words being out in the world, made the emotions so much more real.
