by Karen Anne
Had he lost his goddamn mind?
“Well, you don’t have to behave anymore. Go, follow her. Have a good time with all your women. We’re through.” I ended the call before I could change my mind. And hearing the silence that followed, I burst into tears. My phone rang. It was David, but I ignored it.
After three missed calls, a text came through.
Kristen, I love you. Don’t do this. I’m so sorry! Call me back, please!
I took a shaky breath. Another text came through.
Kris, please! It’s NOT the way it sounded.
Not the way it sounded? Filled with the perfect mixture of rage and betrayal, I pulled the silver promise ring off my finger and hurled it across the room, hearing how it pinged against the wall and rattled against the hard wood until it finally rested unseen beneath my dresser. I didn’t respond to his last text. I didn’t even know how to respond. How could we stay together when we were thousands of miles apart? My head ached from the questions exploding in my mind. I glanced at my phone, tempted to call him back. But instead, I turned my phone off and stumbled into the bathroom to take a hot shower, hoping when I emerged the world would make a little more sense again.
FIFTEEN
I was pretty sure someone had injected Novocain into my soul. I thought cloaking Valentine’s Day in Brit’s birthday party would inadvertently mask my pain. But I didn’t feel any pain. Not yet. I was still in shock from what I now knew. It was impossible to get the image of Danny out of my head, and what was worse were the images my mind was conjuring— of her with David, alone each night.
Refusing to play the victim, I promised myself I wouldn’t tell Brit, at least not tonight. Her birthday party would prove to be the perfect distraction from all things relating to heartbreak. But when I walked into the living room, my intent couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I should have known, after all. Hadn’t I come up with the theme earlier this week when Brit took me to Alice’s Tea Cup? But seeing how Erik had transformed my ideas into reality, I was overwhelmed.
I had entered Wonderland, or more specifically, a party in honor of the Queen of Hearts. For Brit had stolen Erik’s. The entire first floor of our sorority house was decked out in red, black, and white tulle and balloons. Erik had playing cards hanging from the ceiling with fishing line, so it appeared as though they were falling from the sky.
Even the doors were transformed into a giant playing card. All he had done was cut out two red A’s and three hearts, turning the bathroom door into a giant Ace. So simple, yet so clever.
But the part that really impressed me were his centerpieces. I walked over to the main table where Erik was setting up the drinks and lifted a rose out of the vase. I looked at it closely, seeing where the white transitioned into red.
“Erik,” I said, calling his attention away from the candy-striped straws and over to what I was holding.
“What’s up?” he asked half looking at me, half scanning the room to see what else had to be done.
I held up the flower. “You painted the roses red.” My voice was flat, stone cold, dead. Exactly how I felt. I was a walking corpse.
“I did.” He flashed his signature smile, and I knew he was proud of himself.
Artists. Ugh.
If I hadn’t just had that awful moment with David, I would have looked at Erik and seen what Brit saw. I would have given him a hug and thanked him for being so good to my girl. I would have run through the house with the rose, showing every girl who lives here. But instead, I shoved it back into the vase and stormed into the kitchen to see what liquor we had available. I looked under the sink where we kept our bottles, but all I found was an old bottle of wine and some tequila. Gross.
“Hey, Erik?” I called as I walked back into the living room. “What alcohol are you serving tonight?”
“Um, mostly beer. And Natalie made a punch thing.”
“What’s in the punch?”
“Not sure, but I think the base is vodka. Why?”
“Is it bad that I need a shot? It’s Valentine’s Day and…” I couldn’t finish. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Erik could read my pain and gave me the answer I needed.
“Oh! We have jello shots, too! They’re in the fridge, help yourself.”
“Thanks, hon.” I walked back into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There, in neat, white, paper cups, were rows and rows of strawberry jello shots. Hallelujah! I grabbed two, closed the door, squished them into my mouth and shook my head. They were freaking strong. I tossed the paper cups into the garbage, but before I left, I went back and had two more shots. Then I rearranged the cups so it didn’t look like I had touched them. Well, good to know I had the alcoholic thing down.
Now that I had taken the edge off, I went back into the living room, and asked Erik if he needed help.
“No, I’m all done. Are you ready to go?”
“Go where?”
“I thought you were going to my dorm to help get Brit dressed. Natalie just texted me, they’re almost back on campus.”
“Oh, right! Yeah, um… but won’t that give everything away?”
“She knows something is up. I told her I was taking her some place special and she had to follow my instructions without complaints.”
“And she didn’t fight you?”
“This is Brit. Of course she fought me. Want me to drive you there?” Typical Erik. He knew I just slammed back a few shots, and he wanted to make sure I arrived safely at his dorm. That and if I crashed into a pole that would really put a damper on the whole Brit’s birthday thing.
“Yeah, let me get her outfit.”
Erik was the RA, so he had a teeny tiny dorm room that was all to himself. Having three girls in it trying to get ready basically made it no bigger than a cardboard refrigerator box.
“So, why can’t I go home?” Brit asked as I did her make-up. “And why do you smell like strawberry vodka?”
“You practically live in this room, Brit. It’s not like I ever see my roommate or anything,” Natalie said.
“Don’t try to change the subject, Drama Queen.”
“Hey, can I paint a heart over your eye?” I asked, trying to avert the why do I smell like vodka question.
“What? Hell no!”
“That’s perfect, Kris. Do it,” Natalie said, nodding enthusiastically.
“I’m not a clown,” Brit said with conviction. “No hearts over the eye.”
“Why don’t you trust me? It’s Valentine’s Day, it would look awesome.”
“No heart over the eye,” Brit repeated.
“You can paint one over my eye,” Natalie offered.
“If we have it, will you have it?” I offered.
“It’s a surprise party, isn’t it?” Brit asked with a rather smug look on her face.
“What? No.” I shook my head, avoiding her gaze. “I’m just bored.”
“And her fiancé is in London so she’s super sad,” Natalie added.
“He’s not my fiancé,” I said, swirling the brush into the magenta eyeshadow. He’s not my anything.
“He pretty much is. I mean he gave you a—” Natalie paused. “Where’s your promise ring?”
“Oh, I forgot to put it on.” My thoughts went back to my room and how the ring was under the dresser now collecting dust.
Brit glanced at my naked finger then looked at me with suspicion. “I thought you slept with it on. You never take it off.”
“I said I forgot, okay?” I snapped, and Brit looked at me confused but didn’t push the issue. “Can I paint the heart or not?”
“Okay,” she said quietly, and I wondered if she knew. I think she did. We never lied to each other. Then again, she had spent all that time at David’s apartment and I had no clue. Maybe we didn’t know each other the way I thought we did. I shook off the doubt and focused on the heart.
When Brit was allowed to look in the mirror almost an hour later, she drew in a breath. “You guys! This is… amazing!” She twirled in her sk
irt, and I leaned back and smiled at my own artwork.
I had made Brit’s outfit tonight. It was a black scoop necked tee with cap sleeves, but the skirt was the real work of art. It was a tea length ballerina skirt made of black, white, and red tulle that hung in stripes. Above her hips was a thick black belt that really showed off her waistline. To the side was a big red rose.
We had done her rocker purple hair in pin curls, and she had a very 1950s feel about her. The heart over her left eye was a perfect signature to my masterpiece. Very Wonderland. Erik wasn’t the only artist around here.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” I spun around and reached into one of the shopping bags I brought over and took out a shoe box. “One last gift.”
Brit opened the lid and pulled out one of the pumps. It was black satin, and at the back I had added red glitter hearts.
“Now you have your own sparkle pumps, and you don’t need to borrow mine anymore.”
“I love them! Thanks!” She gave me a hug, and I thought I would fall apart right there, cry my eyes out over David and this afternoon. As long as I didn’t touch anyone, I could remain intact. I pulled away and patted her back then started cleaning up our mess while Brit put on her new heels.
“They hurt, can I wear my combat boots?”
“Sure, when the party is over, you can wear anything you want. Now you’re wearing those.”
“She’s right, they make the whole outfit,” Natalie agreed.
“Yeah if I was auditioning to be a Disney villain. Seriously guys, what is with this get up? It’s super fun, and I appreciate all the details, but—”
Natalie waved her hands in the air. “Uh-uh. No more questions. Just enjoy your birthday.”
Brit shrugged and looked in the mirror one more time. “Okay, but if someone hands me a white rabbit, I fully expect him to be in coattails and carrying a pocket watch.”
Erik wasn’t dressed in coattails, but he was rocking a top hat. An old beat up one that you’d find in a thrift shop. He also had on a blazer over his T-shirt and a colorful tie knotted around his neck. His quirky look was complete with ripped jeans and boots. He looked really cute, and when we walked in and everyone shouted surprise, Brit turned beet red and jumped into her Mad Hatter’s arms. And that’s when I went into the kitchen and had a few more shots. I thought about just staying in there for the rest of the night, me and that lovely tray of Jell-o. We could be good friends.
I still hadn’t cried over my break-up, and I didn’t know why. Maybe because it didn’t feel real. It felt like a bad joke. Like we had argued, and David would show up and whisk me into his arms and tell me that Danny was just a freaky transvestite and I had nothing to fear. We’d lock ourselves up in my room and have make-up sex while the rest of the party got lost in Wonderland.
But he never came.
After about half an hour, my absence was noticed. “Hey!” Brit said, swinging open the kitchen door and discovering me on the floor with my tray of anti-depressants. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“You found me. I fell down the rabbit hole,” I said. I think I slurred a bit.
Brit sat next to me, her pretty skirt taking up a portion of the floor. I started stroking the tulle. It was softer than it appeared. I loved soft things.
“Want to tell me what’s really going on?”
“Nope,” I said and squished another jell-o shot into my mouth. My tongue was probably really red.
“Why not?”
“Look, I just miss him.” I couldn’t say his name, and I couldn’t tell her the truth. If I told Brit that I had broken up with David, then that made it real, and I couldn’t handle real right now. All I could handle was a kitchen floor and my personal pity party. “It’s Valentine’s Day, and there is a room full of couples out there.”
“That’s not true, Drama Queen is single.”
“Natalie will hook up with someone before the night is over. You’re missing your party. You should go back. Erik worked so hard on it.”
“I’m only going back if you’re coming with me.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“Kristen, I’m wearing a heart over my freaking eye. If I can do that for you, you can do this for me,”
I looked up at her. “The heart looks good.”
“It looks good if I was a member of Jem and the Holograms.”
“Jem painted a portion of her face pink. Your heart is subtle.” Brit raised a brow and looked at me, making her heart that much more prominent. “Fine, if you hate it that much, wash it off. I really couldn’t care less.”
“I was only teasing. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or anything. Besides…” Her voice trailed off. “Erik thought it was kind of sexy.” She shrugged shyly.
“Of course he did.” I pushed myself up and staggered a bit in my pumps. “Look, have a great party, go mingle, and bang your brains out until the sun comes up. Just stop trying to cheer me up.”
I pushed the door open and slammed right into Harry. “Hey, I heard you yelling. Are you okay?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me if I’m okay?”
Harry stepped closer and lowered his voice so only I would hear him. “David called me. I know what happened.”
And just like that, it was real. It was real, and I was going to be a drunk crying mess in the middle of Brit’s perfect Tim Burton tea party. “Can you get me out of here?”
Sure, where do you want to go?”
Anywhere that is Valentine’s Day free.”
Harry nodded and took my hand. “Let’s go.”
SIXTEEN
I didn’t question where we were going, and I couldn’t say I was surprised when Harry pulled his black jeep up to his apartment. “Is this cool?” he asked, and I nodded, wiping away the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since we left the sorority house.
We took the stairs, and I wasn’t sure if it was the tears or the alcohol, but everything seemed blurry, like looking at the world through a dirty lens. When we got inside, I kicked off my heels, making myself comfortable, and hung my coat and purse on the hook. Then I ran my fingers through my hair and reevaluated my entire day. “I was such a bitch to Brit,” I admitted. “I’ve never treated her like that before. And it was her birthday. She really didn’t deserve that.”
“Why don’t you text her? I’m sure she’s wondering where you are. You were drinking, so at least she knows you’re somewhere safe.”
“Good idea.”
Harry was a good, sweet guy. He didn’t just care about me, he cared about my friends. Just like David would have. My bottom lip started to tremble. I managed to text Brit an apology and told her I was probably crashing at Harry’s and not to wait up.
I was surprised by what she had texted back.
No need to apologize. Just don’t do anything you’ll regret.
Seriously? What the heck was that supposed to mean? Not wanting to get into a texting war, I turned the phone to silent and shoved it into my purse, hoping I’d forget about it. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Please. I had discovered my boyfriend of the past three years was living with a woman who doesn’t believe in wearing pants, and Brit thought I’d do something I’d regret? She had no clue. I’d like to see how she’d react if Prince Erik was living with a supermodel in London and “forgot” to mention it to her. My veins were twitching with emotion. Heartache, anger, and just this overwhelming sense of loss. I glanced over at Harry, who was looking at me thoughtfully.
“Beer or coffee?” he asked.
“Got anything stronger than beer?” I joked.
Harry licked his bottom lip. “I might. But maybe we should start with a beer.”
Not having any idea what he meant, I nodded and went over to the couch where I collapsed in the corner and tried not to burst into tears again. Harry must have been in the kitchen for a while because I fell asleep.
He gently nudged my arm and said, “Hey, you. I bet you didn’t eat. Are you hungry?”
I blinked a few
times and looked at the coffee table. There was a French bread pizza and a plate of nachos with the works. “You just made this?”
“Uh huh. Nothing fancy.” He opened a beer and handed it to me.
I sat up and took it. The food actually smelled really good. He cut a hunk of the pizza and scooped a handful of cheesy nachos on to a plate, then added a scoop of guacamole and sour cream. I took the plate and tucked my feet underneath my calves. Dipping my cheesy chip into the guac, I took a bite. Holy crap! That was insanely good!
“Did you make the guac, too?”
Harry shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, it’s not hard.”
“Easy for you to say. I don’t know how to make guac. This is a freaking avocado masterpiece.”
“I’ll teach you.”
I licked the excess green goodness off my thumb. “Really? Neat.”
“How about we up the ante?”
“I’m listening.” I loaded another chip with this creamy delight.
“I’ll give you one cooking lesson in exchange for one piano lesson.”
I gave him a sideways look. “You want to learn how to play?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Um, yeah. Sure.”
He eyed me skeptically. “What’s wrong?”
“My clients are just a lot shorter than you, that’s all. I apologize in advance if I talk to you like you’re five.”
“There are worse things.” He smiled, and I reached over and took a bite out of the French bread pizza. Holy crap was that good. I think my taste buds just had an orgasm.
Harry scooped up some guac and popped a chip into his mouth before he turned the conversation to the real reason why I was here. “I’m so sorry about what happened this afternoon, Kris. If it makes you feel any better, David sounded really upset.”
Did that make me feel better or worse? I wasn’t sure.
“Yeah, well, did he tell you who he’s been shacking up with?”
“He fucking cheated on you?” Harry’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his skull. I glanced down at his fingers that were gripping the neck of his beer that he was totally white knuckling at the moment.