Page 87 of To Have and to Stalk
I rubbed the center of my palm.
“Oh, you don’t get to be fucking shy now,” Lithie said. “Spill. How did it happen? How many fingers?—”
“Uh…sorry to interrupt.”
All four of us turned in unison to the voice: a man holding a neon-green shot. “I was wondering if I could buy you a drink,” he continued, eyes on me.
Before I could respond, Lithie shot her hand out, blocking him. “Youcan have that, and feel free to order another round for us.”
She offered a saccharine smile.
He drank it down and ordered with the waitress, which was the green light Lithie needed to allow him to sit with us.
I did another shot, then another, until my legs felt gooey. Somewhere between shot three and four the guy shifted interest to my sister—which, honestly, was fine. Lithie was starting to get more and more annoyed with his attention, though.
And then he said the five words guaranteed to make my sister hate you.
“You’re not like other girls,” he said, laughing at some joke she’d said.
My sister’s face closed off. “I can’t believe you would insult me to my face.”
“I—” He sputtered. “It was a compliment. You’re not like other girls?—”
“Other girls are dope.” Lithie leaned forward, tilting her head in a way I imagine she does with particularly obtuseclients. “They’re awesome. They’re hot and smart and fucking princesses. So are you calling me an ugly, dumb troll?”
“What? No!”
He looked between us and, realizing that we were all one hundred percent on my sister’s side, stood up and left, muttering something under his breath that I should probably be grateful I didn’t catch.
I wished I had one-tenth of my sister’s confidence. She knew who she was and she didn’t give a fuck if anyone didn’t like her.
“That’s why we don’t go for straight boys,” my sister said, eyes on me. “A pansexual prince wouldnever.”
I laughed, then leaned back into the couch. The velvet feltsogood. I’d reached that level of drunk where everything had a rosy Instagram filter applied.
“I could really go for a burger,” I said.
All three of them froze like I’d just said I was joining the NRA.
“Oh no,” Eames said. “We let her get too drunk.”
“I amnotdrunk.”
“Oh yeah?” Olly said. “Stand up.”
As I was currently trying to fuse into the couch, that seemed like the worst choice. But I wasn’t going to let themwin.
I pushed off the couch and stood.
“Ta-da.”Oof, the room started to spin. But again, not going to let them win. “I’m going to check on the meter.”
“You’re not going out alone,” Lithie said.
I stepped back before they could grab me. “I’ll be fine,Mom. It’s just outside the club. And also, not drunk. Remember?”
Before they could stop me, I skipped out of the club and down the stairs. I was feeling pretty good about myself, too, when on the last step, I tripped. Falling face-first onto the cold winter pavement.
I narrowly avoided smashing my face, landing on my hands and knees. My palms pressed against the winter-cold pavement. I stared at the cracks in the sidewalk, vaguely registering my knee hurt. Had I scraped it?
