Page 27 of Cry Baby
I stopped with my hand on the handle.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Tapping the metal frame with my knuckle, I tested it, exhaled, and finally pulled it open.
“You coming, Cry Baby?” Melodie called over her shoulder, her auburn hair twisted nearly into a bun on her head.
After the awkward shower, where she just stared at me, she’d changed into a lingerie-looking thing. It was a pink lacy top, paired with a black leather skirt, and finished off with heels that made her tower over my five-foot-eight frame.
I jogged a bit to catch up and forced a laugh that made the itchy fabric of my own outfit choke my neck.
“I guess so, but I was considering faking my death,” I said.
“You’d still have to come inside, stiff or not. You know Natalie.”
“Shit. That’s probably accurate.”
She laughed, grabbing my wrist before I could think of another excuse, and dragged me forward.
The place was packed, and my ears already were ringing.
People were shouting over each other, everyone afraid that their damn mouth might not be the loudest in the room. The alcohol wasn’t helping in the slightest.
Glasses clinked together, and I tried not to count them and to focus on Melodie’s words instead.
“Do you even know anything yet about flirting?”
Ice rattled and I focused on the sound, and then a pool ball cracked somewhere behind me. The bartender slammed a cocktail shaker onto the counter…
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
My jaw clenched.
“That’s a no,” Melodie said. “What’ll you have?”
“I’ll take crippling anxiety with a splash of lime.”
She snorted.
“I meant to drink, dork. You’re funny. What’s your name? I know it’s not Cry Baby.”
I shrugged, already uncomfortable any time I tried to think of my past. The counting always became extra intense and I rarely got out of the vortex when that happened. Instead of curling up and bawling my eyes out like a bitch, I shrugged.
