Page 108 of Don't Be in Love

His hold on me had become plant overgrowth; a vine wrapped around every bone in my chest.

“So you’re avoiding him?”

“My specialty, isn’t it?” I raised my glass. “It was a horrible idea. And if I continue to avoid him, I’ll still end up seeing him at this ball where he’ll look atrociously more attractive than usual.”

“Maybe the words will come out easier.”

“Which words?”

“‘I like you.’”

I pressed my fingertips into the corner of my eyes.

What Mia thought was some major revelation for me actually felt bland, because the past four months have felt much more tumultuous thanlike.

The mistakes I regret the most are the ones I didn’t allow to happen.

I looked around the bar. Smiles painted the faces of everyone squished into the tight space. Glasses clanked, shoes stomped, giggles shrieked, and plastic noise makers sang. A cacophony of happiness that somehow unified for a symphony. But a peacefulness resonated between those who held hands beneath high top tables and splayed out fingers on partners’ lower backs.

“I have to tell him,” I decided.

“You do?” Mia’s eyes blew up. (Not literally but in width they sure did.) Her iridescent pink eyeshadow elongated.

“I do. The moment he gets home. I have absolutely no clue what I’m going to say, and this may be the one thing I’ve never planned ahead for and I should. But if I start planning then I’llstart overthinking and it’ll never happen. Once I tell him, I’ll explain everything to Brina.”

“Wow, I can’t believe this.”

“I can’t either.”

She squeezed the hand that wasn’t clutching my drink. “Whatever you need, I’ll be here.”

“Thank you.” I leaned my head against her shoulder, staring up at the television casting some performer singing a New Year’s-related tune. “In the meantime, I think I’ll have a few more of these.” I dropped my empty glass on the bar and asked for another.

And another ten minutes later.

And another ten minutes after that.

And maybe I only asked for half a glass after that because there was no way I drank that much already. The bartender only put the glass in my hand a few seconds ago.

“No. More. Drinks. Got it?” Mia said in a demanding tone. “I’d prefer if you were conscious for the walk home. Especially when midnight is in two minutes.”

I waved my hand. It wasn’t like I wasdrunk. I never got drunk. Especially not over a guy.

Before I could take another sip of what was left at the bottom of the crystal glass, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Grabbing the phone, the notification came up blurry, its bright screen blinding me in the dimness of the bar.

I rubbed my eyes and squinted in frustration, trying to get the words to focus as I opened the alert. But as the headline cleared up, I didn’t have to read it more than once to understand what it said.

Any fogginess that was clouding my thoughts or making the music in here actually sound good, diminished, along with the air in my lungs.

Both faded at the sight of Dorian’s lips against Victoria’s.

Dorian Blackwood and Victoria Sutton Exclusive Again.

Bile rose in my throat.

I scrolled past the photos as quickly as possible looking for the context in the article.

“Blackwood (photographed on the left) and Sutton (photographed on the right) were spotted together outside Sutton’s apartment on Christmas Eve. Their relationship has been in question since their break-up last year, however with the couple being spotted on Christmas Eve, kissing, we can finally confirm that they are back to—”