December 24, 2010
Tossing and turning is a lousy way to spend the night. When I wake up on Christmas Eve Day, I'm resolved. I'll go to Bergdorfs and get a new outfit on Logan's dime. I hate the idea, but there's no way I could afford to splurge otherwise and I really want to look my best if I'm going to meet the guy I'm mentally considering my soulmate.
Knowing my luck, he'll turn out to be a troll, but even trolls need love. In my mind, I see him as tall with dark hair, unconventionally handsome. His eyes will be a warm brown that darken when he's mad or turned on.
I'm probably setting myself up for a tremendous disappointment, but I don't care. The inner voice that has guided me to this point drowning out Piz's. It will all be worth it. I feel alive, like all the darkness is lifting, and it's all because of Logan. Even if he turns out to be not what I expected, I still owe him for helping me this season. I offer a silent prayer to whoever takes care of girls who have the misfortune of falling in love with the written words of another soul. Please don't let him disappoint.
Mac offers to join me on my shopping trip, which is really sweet considering she hates shopping even more than I do. I decline, though. This is something that I have to do for myself.
Bergdorf's is sure to be a mob scene with last-minute shoppers trying to find that last gift, but I figure early morning is still my best bet. I looked up the club online last night before going to sleep and their annual Xmas Eve Smash doesn't start until 9. That will give me plenty of time to obsess and worry about if I'm doing the right thing.
Oh and do something with my hair and throw some makeup on. I make a note to stop by the makeup counter on my way out since I haven't bothered with the crap in two years. I'm going to be pulling out some really rusty skills tonight if I'm actually going to go.
I wander through the store, gently running my hand over fabrics. As I linger over a long black dress with long sleeves and demure neckline, I hear a familiar voice.
"Get me this in a size 4, please." Loretta Cancun hands a sales assistant a short silver dress that doesn't look like it has enough material to cover a babydoll, let alone a grown woman. She spots me and smiles brightly.
"Well, look who's decided to join the real world." She eyes the dress I'm considering. "You're not planning on buying that potato sack, are ya?"
"Maybe." She quirks an eyebrow at me, wordlessly telling me to continue. "I'm supposed to meet this guy at a party tonight. At a nightclub." My gaze shifts to the floor.
"It's about damn time. Girl, you've been hiding too long. I don't know who the fucker was that screwed you over, but I'm glad you're starting to live a little. Every time I see you at Cliffy's, I think there's a girl who needs to let her hotness show." She walks away, and I stand rooted to the spot. "Are you coming or what? Loretta's going to help you out, honey. We'll find you something that will make this boy of yours stand up like a real man."
Her coarse language makes me laugh, and I follow despite myself.
"So what's the club this party is at?" Her focus is on a short gold dress similar to the one she gave to the salesperson. A quick glance at me has her shaking her head.
"UpperWest." It looks like a swanky club, but I don't have enough experience to really tell.
"Then you need something sophisticated, classic, but something sexy as fuck. You want a dress that will tell this guy you mean business, but he's going to have to wine and dine you before he gets to bend you over."
Loretta is a whirlwind of activity, pulling dresses off the racks and shoving them at me. She pushes me into a dressing room, muttering 'lingerie' before leaving me to try on her selections. A few I can already tell won't work for me. They're either too short for me to feel comfortable or too low cut. I sift through the choices, thinking about Logan's words. Find the outfit that makes you feel like your sexiest, most badass self. A red dress catches my eye.
It's silk and has a fitted bodice and pleated asymmetrical skirt with a removable belt in velvet. It's a v-cut neck in the front and the back. When I try it on, I'm stunned by the woman in the mirror. The skirt flares out a bit when I twirl. Loretta barges in without even knocking but stops when she sees me.
Nodding her head. "That's it, that's the one." She shoves a black lace bra and matching thong at me. "Here, you can't wear whatever granny panties you've got on in a dress like that."
I glance at the sizes, noting that she pulled the correct ones without even asking me. I raise an eyebrow at her and she laughs.
"Please, like I can't tell a woman's size from looks alone. Now, that dress needs some sexy shoes. Do you have jewelry you can wear with it?" I nod.
"I have a diamond pendant from an old friend of mine and my dad gave me some diamond studs for my high school graduation." I pull out the necklace I always wear. It has a star with a diamond in it. My friend Lilly gave it to me before I moved from Neptune, a way to remember her always. I lost touch with Lilly over the years, but I never stopped wearing the necklace. Especially since Piz, it's been a comfort to me, reminding me of who I once was.
Loretta agrees they will go with the dress. Leaving the unwanted selections behind in the dressing room, she drags me to the shoe department. I look at the heels hesitantly, knowing that they are the right choice for the dress, but worried that it's been so long since I wore them I'll fall flat on my face.
A sparkle catches my eye and I pick up a pair of silver kitten heels, encrusted with crystals, low enough that I won't have to worry about falling, but high enough to lengthen my legs. They're just so pretty. Logan thinks I'm a badass princess and these shoes are worthy of a princess. Loretta coos over them, congratulating me on my choice.
She accompanies me when I go to the cashier to pay for my purchases. My voice is small as I tell the salesclerk that Logan said he'd be paying. I don't have a last name and I'm convinced this is where my fairy tale ends, but the woman doesn't bat an eye. She does some magic on her computer and then is carefully wrapping up my purchases, putting the dress in a hanging bag for me.
I figure I'll thank Loretta for her help and she'll go back to her own shopping, but before I can get the words out, she's already talking.
"What are you planning with your hair?" She eyes my long blonde locks critically.
"I don't know. Maybe a ponytail?" I haven't done much with my hair other than the occasional trim in a really long time.
Loretta turns to the salesclerk and smiles. "Logan also wanted her to have a hair appointment."
My mouth drops open in shock, but again the salesclerk only smiles.
"Of course. Let me just call up and see when they can fit her in."
Who the hell is this guy? Getting an appointment at Bergdorfs is not a simple task. Not to mention the amount of money that sort of thing costs. I can't possibly accept this all.
"You snagged yourself a rich, generous guy there. No point in looking a gift horse in the mouth. If he was worried about the price tag, he wouldn't have offered. You owe it to him and yourself to do like he said and take care of yourself."
Loretta's logic is probably flawed, but I really want to look my best for Logan. The salesclerk comes back and tells me that the salon can see me now.
"This is where I leave you, honey." Loretta gives me a swift hug. "You knock his socks off tonight."
"Thank you Loretta, really I don't know what I would have done without you." I return her hug.
"You can thank me by getting yourself back into the saddle. Next time I see you at Cliffy's I want to see a well-laid woman. No more of this schlumpy hiding crap." I nod, agreeing even if I'm not sure what will happen.
She gives a brief wave as she walks away. I stare after her for a few seconds, laughing softly at the idea of my stripper fairy godmother.
I turn to follow the salesclerk to the salon. She whispers something to the woman manning the front desk who smirks. I give both of them my best haughty look. As if I care what they think of me. I glance down at my baggy sweater, shapeless with a turtleneck, and my equally baggy jeans, which are only held up with a belt. Okay, maybe I care a little what they think.
Bergdorfs is too expensive for me and I'm already taking more than I feel comfortable with from Logan, especially since we've never even met in person. If I'm going to make a transformation and shed off the fears that have dogged me for the past two years, then I might as well go all the way in.
I mentally calculate what I can afford for a new clothes budget and resolve to do some more affordable shopping after my hair is done. It'll help to keep my mind off my growing anxiety about meeting Logan tonight.
A tall man with frosted brown hair beckons for me and I follow numbly. As soon as I'm seated, he attacks my hair, pulling up strands and making tsk, tsk noises. Finally, he steps in front of me and crouches so we're eye to eye.
"I'm Miguel. Do you want the bad news or the good news first?" He smiles slightly and I find myself liking him for some odd reason.
"Um, the bad news?" My voice comes out in a squeak. I'm beyond nervous. Something tells me that this guy won't just wash and trim my hair like the gal at Hair Cuttery. He's going to want to do something with pizazz (cue jazz hands).
"Okay, this style is all wrong for you. Maybe it was fine when you were like 12 and cute, but now you're a grown ass woman with attitude. You don't want to be a little girl anymore, do you?" He pats my hand, trying to soften his words. I fight back the instinctual desire to pull them back.
I shake my head, my gaze dropping to my hands in my lap.
"The good news is that your hair color is gorgeous and I won't have to do anything to it." His voice brightens, and he claps his hands together, standing up. "Now here's what I'm thinking. I say we cut it off to just above your shoulders. Give you some razor cut layers, give you more of a punk edge."
At the shock in my eyes, he rushes to reassure me. "Don't worry, sweetie, it's just hair. It grows back. Are you in?"
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I manage to respond in a calm voice. "Yeah, let's do this."
Logan better be worth this.
Two hours later, my head feels pounds lighter. I shake it admiringly in the mirror while Miguel grabs some finishing spray.
"Soooooo?" He drags the word out, his gaze intense.
"I don't look like me." Miguel frowns, but I stop him before he can say anything. "That's a good thing, trust me. I feel like a new version of me and I love it. Thank you, really."
I give Miguel a quick impulsive hug, which he gladly returns.
"Knock his socks off Veronica Mars." Two hours is a long time to sit in a chair and not speak. Miguel excels at putting people at ease and I told him all about my maybe date tonight with a guy I haven't met but who might be my soulmate.
With my new outfit and amazing new hair, I feel ready to take on this party. Well, almost.
I finish up my shopping expedition, stopping at Sephora's to pick up some supplies. The sales assistant is extremely helpful, doing up my face in a smoky eye that makes my eyes seem to glow. She adds a deep red lipstick that matches my dress and makes my eyes sparkle. A shimmery eyeshadow in grey blue and a new eyeliner complete my purchases.
Mac's mouth drops when she sees my hair, and I chuckle nervously.
"What do you think?"
"Oh my god, you look fucking amazing." Mac actually gushes, her hand brushing over my shorter locks. "Logan is going to die when he sees you."
Both Mac and Wallace have seen him, but they have kept their word and told me nothing about him except that he's tall. Of course none of us are on the above average height scale so that could mean just about anything. I have faith that neither of them would let me go to all this trouble if he was a troll.
"Mac, would you come with me? You and Wallace? That way if things don't work out, it won't be a complete bust and we can enjoy ourselves." I widen my eyes, pleading with her. Clubs aren't really her scene, but I could use the support.
"If Wallace agrees, I'll go as well." She sighs heavily. I squeal, giving her a quick hug.
"I'll call him now." I glance at the time on my phone, realizing that if I want to get ready without having to rush, I'm going to need to get a move on.
A quick call to Wallace confirms he's in. He makes himself pretty, his words, not mine, and picks up some takeout for us to munch on while Mac and I get ready.
After a quick shower, being careful to keep the temperature just short of hot so my hair doesn't fall flat, I reapply my lipstick and double check everything. I steal a sparkly red nail polish from Mac and carefully paint my fingers and toes. I used to love getting dolled up, but a stray comment from Piz about clown makeup turned a once loved pastime into something ugly. Now I'm reclaiming this from him. He was an asshole, and he wouldn't know beauty if it hit him in the face.
Focusing on how this night is my fuck you to all the thoughts and doubts Piz planted in my mind, keeps me from obsessing over my growing anxiety about seeing Logan for the first time.
Dropping my towel, I smooth lotion all over my body, a light vanilla fragrance with a hint of shimmer. Not too heavy, but just a hint of sexy. I pull on my new lingerie, reveling in the feel of them on my skin.
It's almost nine by the time I slip on my dress and slide into the heels. They fit beautifully. The party starts at nine, but somehow I doubt Logan is the type of guy to be the first to arrive.
I pack a small silver purse, left over from prom a million years ago, with essentials, phone, lipstick, the notebook, cash, and emergency credit card. I hesitate a second and then grab a condom from the box. I somehow moved it cross-country with me. The damn thing is probably expired and I'm definitely not expecting to have sex tonight, but being prepared is better than not being prepared.
Wallace lets out a wolf whistle when I step out of my room.
"Damn girl, you are fine. I never knew you were hiding such a rocking bod under all those clothes." My answering smile threatens to split my face. This is the reaction I was hoping for.
"There's the girl I used to know." Mac walks up behind me, slapping my ass lightly. "Are we ready to party?"
I throw up devil horns. "Hell yes. Let's get our dance on."
Having no good options other than my puffy winter coat, I don it and we head out, opting to hail a cab in deference to my heels.
There's already a line at the club, but Logan said he was going to leave my name at the door. Hopefully, some of that magic I've seen from him will allow me to bring in my plus two. Feigning a confidence I don't feel, I walk up to the bouncer and give him my name. His gaze travels up and down my body, a look of distaste on his face when he takes in my heavy winter jacket. He clearly thinks Logan made a mistake, but he lets us in anyway.
The inside is crowded, and the temperature is toasty. We drop our coats off at the coat check room before moving further into the club. Mac spots an empty table and snags us some seats, dragging me with her while Wallace heads to the bar to get some drinks.
"This is pretty cool." Mac's words are easy to hear over the Christmas music being played by a live band. I'm so glad this isn't a raging club with loud music and flashing lights. I'm already anxious enough, and that would just give me a headache on top of a swirling stomach.
My eyes rove around the room, analyzing each guy I see, trying to determine which one is Logan. Wallace returns with our drinks and we sit there for a few minutes enjoying the music and ambiance.
Restless, I decide to do a few laps to get the lay of the club. There's the stage where the band is playing and two bars, one on the first floor and one on the second. The second floor overlooks the dance floor where couples are already dancing. The entire club is done in dark burgundy with splashes of gold fixtures, harkening back to the roaring twenties. Even the glass my drink came in speaks of prohibition and old world charm.
Mac and Wallace have abandoned our table, and I try to find them in the crowd to no avail. Someone bumps into me, nearly spilling my drink. I manage to save it before it splashes on my new dress, whirling around to confront my assailant.
Dick Casablancas looks down on me, a cheesy grin on his face.
"Ronnie. What are the odds? Of all the gin joints, blah, blah, blah. You wanna dance?" He's clearly drunk, but I'm glad to see a familiar face.
"I think I'm good right now, but maybe later?" He cocks a finger at me before stumbling off into the crowd.
I get more than a few glances as I continue wandering around looking for Mac or Wallace, making me self-conscious, but no one approaches me. There's too many people here, and I'm not sure how I'll ever find Logan. It's a romantic notion that we'll know each other when we see each other, but that's not how things usually work.
It's been a while since I've eaten, so I make my way over to the tables of hors d'oeuvres set out throughout the club. I fill a small plate with cheese cubes and crackers. A tall dark-haired man seemingly appears on my left, turned towards the food so I can only see his profile.
"You would think for the price of this party, they would have better food." His voice is deep and oddly soothing.
"Maybe they're saving the good stuff for later?" He turns to face me and I forget to breathe. Warm brown eyes reminiscent of hot chocolate capture my gaze. He takes a small step back, not even attempting to hide his appraisal of me. His lips curl in a sexy smirk.
"Well, if they don't, we can always go find something more filling." I suddenly remember to breathe and inhale sharply. He mistakes my reaction and is quick to backpedal. "Or not. I don't want to presume."
"Sorry, what?" My brain is having a hard time processing anything in the face of how gorgeous he is. His lips look soft and kissable. He's wearing the hell out of a dark blue button-down shirt and dark jeans that are obviously expensive. The shirt hugs arms that make me think simultaneously of passionate sex against a wall and being held protectively. It's an odd combination, and it's throwing me off.
He clears his throat. "Let's try this again. Hi, I'm Logan, the food here sucks." He holds out his hand and I stare at it dumbly.
This is Logan. Oh my god, this is Logan! My brain is screaming now and my entire body is aching to just throw myself on him, but he doesn't even know who I am yet. Never in my wildest dreams did I think he's who I would be talking to. He seems like the kind of guy who has everything, but I know that looks can be deceiving.
His hand is still hanging there, but his eyes crinkle in concern. I place my hand into his and he closes his fingers over mine. I hear a sharp gasp, but I'm not sure if it's from him or me. It's like lightning shoots up my arm from all points of contact. I idly wonder if the look on my face mirrors his mouth slightly open in shock.
Before I can respond, a loud noise breaks our gaze. We both turn our heads in the direction and I take the opportunity to pull my hand free of his. He glances back at me before dropping his hand to his side, focused again on the commotion. It looks like someone has fallen off the stage after trying to crowd surf. This really isn't the place for that sort of thing.
I can't really see what's going on, even with the extra height my heels provide.
"Can you wait here for one minute?" Logan turns to me, his eyes pleading. I nod my head and he smiles so brightly it's nearly blinding. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
He moves with the grace of a jungle cat and I'm transfixed watching him weave through the crowd. The crowd parts for him, but closes up, swallowing him until I can barely make out the back of his head.
The band has stopped playing momentarily. People are jostling, trying to find out what has happened. I remain where Logan left me, waiting for him to return, my gaze scanning the crowd for him, but he's lost to my sight. The crowd suddenly parts, and I have an unrestricted view of him.
He's kissing a voluptuous blonde girl who seems vaguely familiar. I might be able to place her if I could get a clear look at her face, but it's obscured where her lips are tangling with Logan's.
My heart shatters and it's all I can do to hold myself up. Tears fill my eyes and I take a deep shuddering breath, trying to hold them in. The crowd surges again, filling, closing them off from my view.
With a shaky hand, I pull the notebook out of my purse, writing quickly before throwing it down on the closest table.
I'm already moving towards the coat check room, desperate to get away before my tenuous hold on my emotions breaks like my heart is breaking. At least I found out what kind of person he was before this went any further.
As my hand reaches into my bag for my claim ticket, I brush against the notebook. I pause at a table, already sticky with spilled beer. Then I continue on to the coat check.
It's not until I'm in a cab, heading for my apartment, I realize I just left without a word to Mac and Wallace. Not wanting to talk to anyone but not wanting them to worry about me, I send a quick text to Mac saying I have a headache. I'll deal with them tomorrow.
Inside the apartment, I drop my coat, shoes, and purse by the door before going into my room. I slip out of my dress, leaving it pooled where it falls to the floor. The lingerie that made me feel sexy and hopeful is discarded quickly. I want to rip it to shreds, but it was expensive and besides, I can use it again. I slip into an oversized t-shirt, scrub off the makeup before crawling into bed and finally allow the dam to break.
Mac checks in on me, quietly opening my door when she comes home, but I feign sleep, still not ready to talk about what happened, what I saw. When the door closes with a soft click, I cry myself to sleep finally.
I'm a bundle of nerves all day. I can't believe I invited her to the party tonight. The party I wasn't planning on attending since Lilly is still in town. It's the hottest party in town. I'm still trying to avoid her, hoping she'll take the hint finally and go back home. Instead, I'm heading to a club to maybe meet the girl of my dreams. A girl I'm pretty sure I'm in love with, already.
The hours creep by. I try to distract myself, playing video games with Dick, doing some work on my story for Van. But Veronica is on my mind, no matter what I do. There's a fifty/fifty chance that I will make a complete jackass of myself the second I meet her.
I don't even know if she'll show. At least I know that she took me up on my offer to buy a new outfit for tonight. I arranged the whole thing with my mom's old personal shopper from Bergdorfs. She was really sweet about it, ensuring me that no one will tell Veronica my last name and they'll give her anything she wants. I try to take it as a good sign, but the butterflies in my stomach still won't settle.
Finally, it's almost nine. Normally I wouldn't show up at a party before it had been going for at least two hours, but I can't wait. It feels like tonight is the start of the rest of my life. Dick grouches about heading out so early, but does a few shots before we head out. I debate doing the same, but I want nothing clouding my thoughts tonight.
Dick heads straight to the bar when we arrive. There's a lot more people there than I would have expected for a party that starts at 9, but I guess people want to get an early start on their Christmas festivities. There's a few people here that I know from school and I make small talk while keeping an eye out for Veronica.
I don't even know what she looks like, but I just know I'll know when I see her.
By ten, I'm starting to panic. What if she doesn't show? I don't have any way of getting a hold of her. What if I scared her off? I head to the bar to get a drink, trying to calm my nerves. Dick joins me and I end up doing a couple of shots to take the edge off. My tolerance is not what it used to be, and I can feel a strong buzz.
I haven't eaten anything, which is probably part of it. I move towards one of the tables where they have food set out. It's not quite what I would expect from the price of the tickets for this thing, but its food. There's a beautiful petite blonde woman standing at the other end of the table. As she fills a plate, I find myself mesmerized by her. Her entire attention is on the food, carefully selecting the right hors d'oeuvres before putting it on her plate.
My heart rate speeds up as she takes a dainty bite, watching her graceful neck while she swallows. Trying to be cool, I sidle up next to her, keeping my face turned away when I speak. I make a comment on the food, mentally berating myself for the lousy opening. She banters back though, so it couldn't have been all bad.
I turn to look at her, getting my first up close view of the most stunning woman I've ever seen. Her eyes widen slightly and her breathing hitches as our eyes meet. I'm having trouble breathing myself, but I can feel my lips curl in a smirk. She gasps when I suggest getting something more filling to eat, and I panic. I don't want her to run off.
I try to regroup, wondering where all my game is. I'm normally a lot more smooth.
I clear my throat. "Let's try this again. Hi, I'm Logan, the food here sucks." There's a hesitation before she takes the hand I offer. I only meant to shake it, but the second her skin touches mine, my fingers close around hers. It feels like fire, licking up my arm, setting every nerve on fire. I can't speak, lost in her enormous sapphire blue eyes. I should say something, anything, but I'm lost. A voice in my head clamors for attention, but it's lost in the sound of blood rushing from my brain to my groin.
Who knew a simple touch could be so arousing. I am about to pull her closer when a loud noise shatters the moment. We both turn our heads towards the stage, her hand slipping out of mine. I want it back, but Dick is laying on the ground, obviously having pulled some asinine stunt again. I groan inwardly, turning back to the woman.
"Can you wait here for one minute?" My eyes are pleading. She nods and my smile threatens to break my face. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."
Shoving my way through the crowd to check on my idiot friend, my only thought is on the woman I just left and how very much I want to get back to her. Veronica. She didn't tell me her name, but who else would have such an effect on me?
By the time I get to the stage, Dick is up and moving, seemingly unharmed. I turn on my heel, heading back to maybe Veronica. I'm so focused on trying to get to her, I miss the shark headed my way until it's too late.
Lilly Kane throws herself into me, planting her lips on mine. I'm so surprised it's long seconds before I think to push her back.
"What the fuck, Lilly?" She twirls a strand of her hair, pouting up at me, her lipstick smeared from where she kissed me.
"Well, I had to get your attention some way." She trails a manicured fingernail down my chest and I can feel the little I've eaten trying to make a reappearance. I take a step back, trying to put some more space between us.
"Did it ever occur to you I didn't want to see you, and that's why I've been ignoring you?" My voice is a growl. I don't want to be a jackass, but dammit, why can't she just leave me alone? My blinders are off and there's no way I'm going to settle for her second-rate kind of love again, not when there's a chance that I could have genuine love. I look over Lilly's head, trying to see if maybe Veronica is still where I left her. I can't see her, but she's pretty short even in her heels.
"Logan, if you would just give me a chance." Lilly is still speaking. I blow out a frustrated breath.
"Lilly. Just leave me the fuck alone. I'm not giving you a chance. You are un-fucking-believable. You fucked my father, cheated on me countless times and now you want me to what? What the fuck do you want exactly?" I hiss the words at her, spitting as much venom as possible so she gets my message.
Lilly's eyes widen in shock. She's used to me kowtowing to her, not standing up for myself. Well too bad Lilly, cause I am not your fucking doormat anymore.
"We were good together." She glances up at me with glassy eyes, but I don't believe it anymore. Everything about Lilly Kane is an act. One I believed for far too long.
"If you're asking if the sex was good. Then yeah, you were a hot piece of ass. But everything else? No, it was a complete shit show and I'm done with it and you. I've asked you nicely, now I'm telling you to just go away." I'm moving before even finishing uttering my statement. I just want to find maybe Veronica.
Thankfully Lilly doesn't follow me, but maybe Veronica isn't there. I glance around, but I can't see her. I wander around the club, my eye catching hopefully on every red dress. But none of them belong to her. As I pass a table, I see a red notebook sitting dangerously close to a puddle of spilled beer, the moisture already lapping at its edges.
Our notebook.
I look around for her, but she's not there. Hoping she left me a note, I flip open the now slightly damp notebook.
Logan,
This was a mistake. I thought we had a connection, but I was wrong. I hope she makes you happy.
Veronica
No, this wasn't a mistake! This was the best thing to ever happen to me! What is she talking about, hoping who will make me happy? Fuck, Lilly. She saw Lilly kissing me.
I run my hands through my hair, panic overtaking me. Dick bounces up, a goofy smile on his face, and my free hand clenches. It takes everything inside of me not to punch him.
Red throbs at the edges of my vision. My voice is low, menacing, rage rushing through me. "This is all your fault." I wave the notebook at him.
His smile falters and he takes a step back, his hands coming up in an unarmed gesture.
"Dude, what are you talking about?"
"If you hadn't distracted me, I wouldn't have left her and Lilly wouldn't have kissed me and she wouldn't have left." I'm making no sense, but the words are spilling out of me.
"Who left? Dude, you kissed Lilly?" I shake my head, taking deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. "Did Ronnie see you kissing her? Is that who left?"
My mouth drops open at his words. "Ronnie?"
"Yeah, I saw you putting the moves on her earlier. I told you she grew up hot." Dick's childhood friend, Ronnie, is my Veronica. The woman I met, the one whose touch set me on fire, is Veronica. I knew that, but this is confirmation.
She saw Lilly kiss me though, and now she's gone. My heart beats wildly in my chest and I struggle to get oxygen. I feel light-headed and begin to shake. I wonder if it's possible to have a heart attack at 20.
"I need to get out of here." I feel hot, the club's walls closing in on me. My hands are sweaty and I sway. My heart beats so hard it's painful now, and my body doesn't seem like it wants to take oxygen. Dick looks concerned and steers me out of the club. I lean against the wall, taking deep gulping breaths.
"Dude, what is going on?" I shake my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. "Wait here."
Dick leaves me there for a few minutes and comes back with our coats. I haven't even registered the cold outside, too wrapped up in the turmoil in my head. He lets out a piercing whistle, hailing us a cab, and we ride silently back to our apartment; the notebook clutched tightly in my hand the entire time.
When we get inside, Dick pours us both a shot. I pick it up mechanically, downing it. The burn of the alcohol is soothing, it offers respite from the pain.
"Alright, now tell me what's going on. And what the fuck is up with that notebook?" I sometimes forget why I'm friends with Dick. He comes across as a dumb surfer boy, but he has hidden depths.
I tell him everything, and he listens, occasionally asking a question or two. When I'm finished, I lean back on the couch, my eyes closed. My entire body feels beaten. I feel like the days after Aaron would lose his temper and take it out on me, the days I could barely move, barely breathe, the pain overwhelming.
"So, you and Ronnie." I open one eye.
"Yeah."
"But she thinks you're with Lilly."
"Yeah."
"And you don't know how to get in touch with her other than the notebook?" I nod. "Well, she gave me her number the other day so you could, I don't know, call her like a normal person?"
I snort. I really hadn't thought of that. Dick actually knows her.
Unfortunately, her phone is off and this isn't the kind of thing I want to chance on a voicemail. I mean, who even listens to voicemail anymore?
Dick and I continue to do shots. I figure I'll give myself this one night to mourn what could have been, and tomorrow I'll figure out how to fix things.