Page 2 of Without a Hitch
I always seem to be the odd man out. I think I give off some sort ofdon’t fuck with mevibe or something. I don’t know. But I have spent many hours in front of the mirror trying to figure it out. I don’t appear to have a resting bitch face. I’m generally smiling and friendly. I just seem to be…invisible.
After years of practice, I’m used to it, so I stand and sway awkwardly because Hadley is a head counter. She could meet the love of her life on the dance floor, but the second she can’t see all our heads, she panics. So, instead of slinking off to find a table, I dance alone and let her have her fun.
Sure enough, I catch her eye a second later. She gives me a worried glance, but I give her a goofy thumbs-up and pretend I’m dancing with someone to my left. When she finally looks away, my shoulders droop. My skin is still crawling from the penis massage my face took, and now my makeup is melting under the sheer heat radiating from the dance floor.
Snaking my way to Hadley, I lean in but still shout to be heard over the hip-hop song that’s playing. “I’m running to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” She nods and kisses my cheek, then splutters, spitting her tongue out in disgust, obviously remembering where my cheek has been tonight.
It makes me chuckle as I scan the crowd. I find Eli and Delaney and give them the hand sign for the restroom. They both nod happily, and I make a beeline for the edge of the dance floor. People shift and let me through, but no one pays me much attention. Being invisible is a blessing and a curse, I guess.
Eventually, I make it to the door with a triangular-shaped woman on it and am shocked there isn’t a line. Pushing through the swinging door, I find out why.
“Seriously, Sybil. You can’t keep doing this every time we go out.” Two women rush past me with a huff, leaving a girl leaning against the sink with mascara streaming down her face.
Why do I always make friends with the drunk girls?
Unable to help myself, I cross the black-tiled floor. “Are you okay?” My face scrunches up as I ask. Obviously, she isn’t okay, or she wouldn’t be in here crying.
“I-My-She…” A hiccup escapes before she tries again. “I think my fiancé is cheating on me. With…with my friend.” Her glassy eyes follow the trail of the two women who just left.
Well, shit.
“Have you asked them about it?”
She nods. “He denies it. B-But I have this feeling and a text message.” Her toned body deflates like a sad balloon animal.
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” I grab a wad of tissues and hand them to her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she admits, and I realize she isn’t as drunk as I originally thought. She’s hurt. Who knew the optics of those two things could be so similar?
“I don’t want to tell you what to do, but I would follow my gut. If something feels off, it usually is. And truthfully? If he’s cheating with your friend, she isn’t your friend. You don’t owe either of them anything.”
Her shoulders straighten as she contemplates my words. “You’re right. What would you do?”
That startles a laugh from me. “Well, I’m a hopeless romantic, but I’m also detail-oriented. I’d want proof. I’d get proof, then I’d burn their world to the ground.” The admission shocks us both, but she’s nodding with wide eyes in agreement. Crossing my arms, I tell her my truth. “Marriage is important to me. It’s a promise made between two people, and if one of those people is in it for the wrong reasons, they make a mockery of something I hold dear to my heart. So, I’d probably hack their phones and then put them on blast. Then, I’d cry. A lot. But I’d eventually pick myself up because I truly believe there’s a happily ever after out there for all of us. If this guy isn’t yours, don’t waste your time crying in bathrooms. He doesn’t deserve you, and you deserve a hell of a lot better.”
The bathroom door opens, and Delaney slips inside. Turning toward her, she offers a kind smile. This isn’t the first time she’s found me making friends in the bathroom. She says it’s so I can hide, and maybe that’s partly true, but I’ve never been able to walk away from someone in need.
“You’re right.” My new friend sways slightly. Maybe she is at least a little buzzed. “You ready for a show?”
“Uh…yes?”
She uses her fingertips to angrily wipe away the mascara marring her cheeks. “Good. I’m about to set off some fireworks in there.”
Oh, shit. “I didn’t mean right now.” Holy Hades, what did I just do?
The stranger grabs my biceps with more strength than I’d given her credit for. “This has been a long time coming. I’m either going to put two shitty people on blast, or I’m going to wake up and apologize for my drunken debauchery.” She winks, and my jaw drops. “Thank you. You’re amazing.”
She’s gone a second later, and I’m left staring at Delaney, who shakes her head at me.
“Your collection of drunken admirers is growing.”
Rolling my eyes, I head into a stall. “As one of four girls, I just know how to handle overzealous emotions.”
Hovering over an absolutely disgusting toilet I barely contain a groan. I should have stayed home tonight.
Delaney is leaning against the sink, waiting for me, when I leave the stall. “Someday, you’ll find your Prince Charming, and it’s going to be one hell of a ride.”
“I know,” I mumble. Emotions clog my throat, so I clear it as I wash my hands. My friends have always been able to see through me when they look hard enough.
