Page 12 of Lying Hearts
Chapter Eight
Annie
“Come on!!!” I plead to the line for the bathroom. Bladder: threatening. Heart: deflated. Head: against wall. Eyes: closed.
“You okay?” a small female voice asks.
I peer at the source and shut my eyes again. “I’m wonderful. Don’t I look it?”
“No.”
I peer at her with new appreciation. “Honest. I like that.”
Her face crinkles up as she studies me. “You seriously don’t look so good.” I’ve never seen this girl before but she’s no more than eighteen. From the innocent fear seeping from her pores, I deduce that she snuck into this college party.
I press my forehead into the wall and close my eyes again. “I’m drunk. Don’t they teach ‘drunk’ at your high school?”
“Oh. Oops. That obvious? Let me just see…” She holds her hand up to my cheek to check my temperature.
I smack her away and stare at her like she’s an alien. “Don’t touch me! What are you doing?”
“Making sure you’re not boiling up. You look a little…” Stopping herself from offending me by pointing out the obvious – that I look like death warmed over – she sucks her lips inside her mouth to remove the ability to speak.
I can’t help but stare because she looks just like a Muppet. I love the Muppets. “Okay, mom. I don’t have a fever. I have a thing called ‘love.’ I suggest you avoid me at all costs in case it’s contagious. Believe me,” I sigh, pushing away the sharp pain in my heart. “You don’t want to catch this.” The line moves one person forward and we all step to meet it. “Thank God!” People look at me like I’m weird for yelling, but I don’t care.
All I care about is that Brendan just made me feel as attractive as a toad on a Tuesday. And he was obviously into Corinne.
I’m just lucky she’s my friend; she knows how I feel about him, so I know she won’t do anything with him. She’ll tell him to go on his merry way. But still, it hurts like hell. The way he looked at her. Why won’t he look at me like that?
“You’re in love?”
“Yeah, but I don’t recommend it.” I poke at the person who’s next in line, reaching around the eighteen year old Muppet to do it. “Hey. I really have to go. Can I cut in front of you?”
He looks at me, gives my outfit a once over. “No.”
“Would you say yes if my boobs were showing?”
“Probably.” He goes back to staring at his phone.
Reassuming the position, I mutter, super quietly, “Fucker.” My new little friend stifles a laugh. “What’s your name, High School?”
“Jenny,” she leans against the wall with her back to it. “You can have my spot if you want.”
My eyes go wide. I almost smile. But I’m hurting too badly to actually accomplish such ridiculousness. Instead, I just reach up and pat her on the head. “Thanks kid.”
“Kid? Please. You’re not that much older than me. What are you, twenty?”
“Twenty-three.”
“And you’re still wearing Goth?” She shuts her mouth fast, sorry she said that out loud.
I glare at her. “I don’t like you anymore, just so we’re clear.”
“Sorry.”
“I’m still taking your place, though.”
She moves so I can walk forward, changing spots with her. Eyeing her suspiciously, I take her place and close my eyes again, saying to the guy standing between me and bladder-releasing heaven. “Hey. Please don’t poop in there.”