“Hay, lady,” she said, granting me a wide-eyed smile.
“Here we go, right?” I encouraged.
“Absolutely. I’m here for you,” she offered, coming up to rub her hand on my back.
I’d said the same to her in various ways this week. I’d felt lousy about last weekend each time she’d called back, all sweet, supportive and encouraging. She’d even apologized for being a crap last Saturday night, but I’d easily understood how listening to not only that horrible band all night but the lunatic ranting of your horrible friends could have set one on edge. I said as much, too, getting me a hearty laugh in return.
She’d confessed to having been there before, not after a first date, mind you, but when a relationship had ended unexpectedly, without any explanation. She knew the desperation I felt for an answer, and the heartbreak of wanting more and yet not knowing if it could ever happen. In fact, she’d welcomed me to the real world at that point. She’d counseled me before, when I’d been the one to do the running before anything meaningful could occur, that every girl needed her heart broken at least once or she’d never appreciate real love as much as she should when it showed up. That had been the point, that I’d never wanted to risk it showing up. I’d never wanted to be abandoned again. A lot of good that vigilance had gotten me.
Thinking of how Chloe had been the one person in the world to never abandon me, and I mean ever, I got misty eyed. She’d just said she’d be here for me, and she meant it. I didn’t think she knew how to not be there, in fact.
“I know you’re here for me. I wouldn’t doubt that for a minute. You always have been, no matter how low I’ve gotten or how horrible a friend I’ve been in return,” I confessed as tears blurred my vision.
I pulled open my handbag for the stash of tissues I’d put in there. Tissues and the necessities to touch up my make-up had been of upmost importance outside of some cash and an ID. Not much else fit in these ridiculous things girls insisted on bringing to clubs. Of course, who wanted to lug their everyday purse to go out? Mine looked like a small overnight bag.
“Oh, let’s not go there already,” she teased as she embraced me in a big hug. “Now, let’s get inside. This night air has been getting ridiculously cold for the very beginning of fall here in the city. Where is that indian summer we were promised?”
I hadn’t noticed the change in temperatures too much. I’d felt a pervasive cold alone in my apartment since two weeks ago. In my head or not, I’d been dressing for winter before the trees had even begin to turn.
As soon as we got in the door, I did my scan. The place was still pretty empty save for the stragglers from the have-a-drink-with-me-after-work crowd. We grabbed the empty table up front, and I took the seat that let me face the door and stage. Taking care to arrange myself just right, turn what I thought my best angle in this dress to the door, I let my vanity win out in my play for attention. I had to wonder what he would do if he walked in and I had another guy standing at my table flirting with me.
There wasn’t time or interest for all of that, though. Still, I wondered if it would bother him at all. That would be a true test of how he felt about me. Although, I doubted most guys got possessive over a one night stand. I knew that, if tonight I saw him talking to another girl, flirting, I’d feel jealousy, but I’d never in a million years let myself act on it. How embarrassing would that be? I already held a million different ways to possibly humiliate myself tonight. I surely didn’t need another.
“They’ve already been in to set up,” Chloe offered, nodding to the stage.
His grey, steel-like guitar, apparently made of carbon graphite, a temperature and tuning thing according to my research this week, hung from a stand by the chair and microphone center stage. My mind played tricks on me after that, making every man in the bar possibly Lex before reality set in seconds later.
“He’ll be here soon,” Chloe continued. “It won’t be long before you’ll hopefully at least have some kind of answer, some closure, good or bad. Closure is closure, though. It allows a girl to move on with her future. You’ve been stuck in spin cycle for two weeks, going nowhere and unable to get any drier.”