The car ride over did nothing to calm my anger about the situation because I find myself more heated than ever when walking over to him. It isn’t until I’m right in front of him when he notices me. His eyes get wide, and the look of surprise just pisses me off more.
“Ellie? What are you doing here?”
If I weren’t so upset, I would probably be more distracted by how handsome he looks. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him,and I didn’t realize how much my body subconsciously aches for him. My heart is beating so hard that I’m worried it’s going to explode out of my chest. Sweat covers my palms, and I try to resist the urge to wipe them on my pants.
Keep it together, Ellie.
Before I have a chance to answer, a hand pops out at me, and it’s attached to the very beautiful, very drunk woman hanging on Patrick’s arm. She’s wearing a tiny white sequin dress and looks like a literal angel. “Hi, I’m Olivia!”
Fuck, I forgot that Nick said he had been flirting with someone all night. I’m such an idiot. Why did I come out here? To embarrass myself more?
I make the only move I can, which is to shake her hand and exchange pleasantries. “Ellie. Nice to meet you.”
“I love th—at name!” She hiccups in the middle of the sentence and giggles it off. It is blatantly obvious when she checks me out because her whole head moves, not just her eyes. Right when I expect her to make a nasty comment to make me back off, her face lights up, and in the most genuine way, she says, “Oh my gosh! You are so cute! I wish I was smart enough to wear sweatpants out tonight! You look so comfy!”
The panic sets in, realizing that, in my haste, I did not think about changing into a socially-appropriate outfit. I look down at my cropped black tank top and matching black sweatpants, andheat fills my cheeks. The only saving grace is that I chose to wear a neutral-colored lazy outfit instead of something plaid or neon or whatever else was in my clean laundry pile.
My gaze switches to Patrick who has barely said a single word since I showed up. He looks confused, or maybe that’s justthe alcohol. Trying to fake my confidence, I push my shoulders back and give a fake smile. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I just need to borrow Patrick for a couple minutes.”
“Oh, that’s fine. Just make sure to bring him back. He’s a cutie pie.” The jealousy creeps up into my bones, and I do my best to keep the daggers in my eyes at bay and maintain the smile on my face.
Turning on my heels, I walk decisively out of the bar and towards the parking lot. I’m too scared to look back to see if Patrick is following me out, but the footsteps behind me clue me in as I move into the cool night air.
“Who was that?” I spit out as I turn around. There’s a sharpness in my tone that I don’t mean, but it’s too late now.
Patrick shoves his hand in his pockets and looks at the ground, keeping his eyes anywhere but on me. “That’s Olivia. It’s her birthday today.”
The mundane response upsets me more. My original plan is completely derailed, and I can’t even remember why I came here. “Are you dating her?”
Patrick lets out a small laugh. “No, we just met tonight.”
“Oh, well, you guys are really cute together; I wouldn’t blame you.”
He blinks at me, mouth agape, as I try to play off whatever it was I just did, and it’s like he can see through me.
“Are you jealous?”
“Woah, I’m definitely not jealous. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I start to ramble, and I can’t stop myself. “What do I even have to be jealous of? It’s not like we'redating each other. You can date or not date whomever you want, Patrick. It’s no chip off my shoulder.”
He raises an eyebrow at me and smiles like it’s amusing watching me make a fool of myself. “So, why are you here, El?”
And just like that, I remember all the anger I felt on my way here.
“Ugh, don’t ‘El’ me. You’ve lost the privilege of calling me that!” I throw my hands up, feeling ridiculous while pacing around the outside of Working Class. “Do I not matter to you? Because right now, that’s what it seems like.”
The smug look disappears from his face as I keep going before he has a chance to respond.
“I can’t believe that you were just going to move away without saying anything. That’s fucking bullshit, and you know it! You said that we were friends.Yousaid that. And, I don’t know if you know anything about how friends work, but they don’t just move away to another state without telling each other. I get things are weird now or whatever and maybe that’s my fault, but that’s such a jerk move. You can’t just make me care about you, and then do this. How were you not going to tell me about this? Are we even friends?”
Tears are welling in my eyes, and I can’t stop them from rolling down my cheeks. I fucking hate that my body does this. I want to be strong and solid and not show any resistance, but here I am crying in a parking lot, failing at keeping my shit together. Wiping my hand over my cheeks, I try to undo the damage, but it can’t be stopped.
Patrick steps towards me, reaching his hand out to touch my face, but I take a step back. His hand drops back to his side,and his eyes look hurt when he starts to speak. “Of course you matter, El. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”
Oh.
He continues. “I don’t even know if that’s what I’m doing yet. It’s just a back-up plan anyway, and I don’t think I’m going through with it. And, don’t put the weirdness solely on me! I wasn’t the only one who wanted to end our fake relationship; you were so quick to agree to stop seeing each other. I didn’t realize how miserable you were spending time with me that we didn’t even bother having a real discussion. Also, the phone works both ways. You haven’t tried reaching out to me either—”
Hearing his words trail off, I try to find the anger in Patrick's voice, but there is none. All I can hear is frustration and disappointment.
