Trish leans into myside.
“Laura, what’s going on? Did Kristian say something?”
“I’m fine, I promise,” I interrupt her. I’m starting to feel the unhappiness fading. My tongue is slightly numb, and my nose tingles. Good. The alcohol is working. I feel much more relaxed and carefree than usual.
I place an arm around my best friend’s shoulders and put a sound kiss on her cheek.
“Come on, let’s dance,” I tellher.
She laughs, shaking her head atme.
“Okay, then. Just don’t yell at me in the morning if you have the meanest hangoverever.”
“If I remember correctly,” I slur, “I don’t get hangovers.”
I swat her arm as we both get up from our chairs and turn to the small stage that’s been set up at the other end of the pub. Luckily, I won’t be able to watch Kristian flirting his way into that girl’s knickers while we dance.
I shouldn’t care, I really shouldn’t.
So why do I? It shouldn’t matter.
But it does. Already, it matters way toomuch.