“Why would I have to do that?” she responds around a mouthful of chocolate.
“Because those get ejected immediately.”
Shaking her head, she grabs another. “No, that’s crazy. Nuts are the best. The bigger, the better.”
“Makayla!” I mock gasp, bringing my hand to my forehead in disbelief.
She makes a noise that could be construed as X-rated. “I’m serious. They are so good.”
At that we look at each other and laugh.
And laugh.
And laugh.
The song changes, and we sing along, moving to the beat like we’re onstage in front of a crowd.
“Stay right here,” Makayla slurs when the song finishes.
“Okay,” I tell her, looking around the spinning room, thinking I’m not sure I could go anywhere anyway. I think my Valentine’s Day is just about over and I survived it.
When my eyes land on one of the gleaming hearts, I smile. They really are pretty. Suddenly, Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend” blares overhead. I search the small remaining crowd and find Makayla pointing between her and me. “This is our song!” Makayla shouts over the music.
“Thank you,” I mouth to my best friend.
God, she has no idea how much I needed this tonight.
With a grin a mile wide, I hop onto the coffee table in my family room and use the top half of the heart box as my microphone. She follows, holding something that looks like it was once a folded paper heart. Oh right, it was a victim of my anti-love rant some poor soul had to listen to earlier.
There aren’t many people left, but Makayla and I are rocking it out. Singing. Dancing. Laughing. Having a blast.
The door opens and the cool night air floats in. In my fuzzy state, I notice Makayla jumping down and rushing toward Cam, who is just walking in.
Unable to stop myself, I continue my performance solo. Singing. Shaking my hips. Turning in circles.
When I twirl back around, I notice Brooklyn has come home and is staring at me up here with sober eyes.
Now, I can’t have that. I beckon him forward. And he comes. Hopping up on the table beside me, I make sure someone hands him a bottle, and then I turn to sing to him. Serenading him because he, too, is one of my best friends.
Making a complete fool out of myself is something I really don’t care about. I bump my ass to his, my hip to his, my front against him. This is Valentine’s Day and it is my party. The song is coming to an end, so I go all out. Moving to the beat, shaking my ass and swaying like I am the lead singer, blaring my vocals into the pretend microphone.
And then in the matter of a single glance everything changes.
The sharp ache of betrayal knifes across my chest.
My knees go weak.
The room starts to spin even faster.
My body is shaking.
And I sober up faster than I ever have.
Time to get off this table.
Behind Cam is a dark figure silhouetted by the shadows. But I’d know him anywhere. Chiseled face, chiseled nose, chiseled chin, and chiseled body.
Before I can get down, a wide swath of moonlight illuminates his face, and all I can see is his eyes. Those blue, blue eyes. Eyes that gazed into mine. Eyes that songs are sung about. Eyes I never wanted to see again. Yet, no matter how hard I try, I can’t force myself to look away. Like two sapphires, they are on me, and I, God help me, like that they are.
“Maggie, you okay?” Brooklyn shouts. That’s when I realize I’ve fallen from the table and somehow landed on top of him.
Standing up straight, I pat myself to check for physical damage, and then look down at Brooklyn, who is laughing uncontrollably at me.
Popping up to his feet, he is perfectly fine, so I don’t have to worry about him. Instead I concentrate on willing my heart rate to slow down, but it won’t.
Fine.
It’s show time anyway. I give a little bow so as to show everyone—him—that I am okay. Everyone starts hooting and clapping, and I do it again.
I.
Am.
Okay.
Unable to stop myself, I find myself glancing toward the man with the black leather jacket remaining stark still behind Cam.
The one I hate.
Hate.
Hate.
Hate.
I mean, wouldn’t you?
That’s when I notice everyone is cheering but him. His eyes are still on me, though, and they are completely unreadable. Almost daringly, I narrow my eyes to see if he’ll look away.
He doesn’t.
I wait.
And when I can’t take it any longer, I shift my own gaze for fear of what I might see in those blue pools.
As I do, my eyes land on my best friend, who is in a lip-lock with her boyfriend, and that makes me smile.
I might not believe love is in the cards for me, but I have no doubt Makayla and Cam were made for each other.
Time for me to fly.
I take one small step, and even still, I can feel his gaze on me.