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Voyeur Extraordinaire(54)



“I—I don’t know anything anymore.” Then I paused. “You aren’t angry anymore for what I said?”

“No. I understand that you were mad. You’d been in love with Ben for years and then I started dating him. You were hurt and angry. I won’t apologize for my feelings for Ben, because he is the best thing that has happened to me, but I apologize for how I handled things, for how I kept my relationship with him from you for months.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “And I’m sorry for calling you a slut and a traitor and whatever else I called you when I was angry.”

She smiled. “Okay. So you believe me that I had nothing to do with whatever Adrian did?”

I nodded. “You could never be that cruel.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“You make it sound really bad.”

“Let’s just say I hate Adrian more than I’ve ever hated anyone.” The problem was that hate wasn’t the only thing I was feeling for him even after last night.

Rachel frowned. “Adrian is an asshole, I’ll give you that. And I won't argue with anyone who calls him a bastard, or manwhore, or heart-breaker. That's what he is, or was, or whatever...”

I could hear the imminent ‘but’ in her tone. She let out an impatient sigh and shook her head as if annoyed with herself. Then she looked around as if to make sure that no one was listening. “Look, what I want to tell you is that sometimes people hide behind a mask, or try to be someone else, because they want to protect themselves from getting hurt. It doesn't justify Adrian's actions, but maybe it helps you to understand him a little bit. In high school, girls gave him a hard time because he was fat. It changed him. But he never lies to anyone because he hates lies. Every woman who lands in his bed knows it’s nothing permanent. It’s not his fault that some don’t want to accept it afterwards.”

Anger boiled up in me. Was she trying to tell me that Adrian wasn't an asshole, just acting like one to protect himself? That it was my fault for expecting to be treated decently. I forced my voice to be calm as I said. “Don’t tell me, what your brother did and didn’t do. I was there. And I really don’t know how he protected himself by taking my virginity against a wall and then telling me that he ‘doesn’t do virgins.’ Sorry, but that’s too messed up for me to comprehend.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. Before she could say anything, I opened the bathroom door and slipped in, then closing the door in front of her shocked face. I wasn’t in the mood to discuss Adrian anymore, especially not with Rachel. I stared at the closed door for a moment before I took a deep breath. I didn't really need to go to the bathroom. I'd just wanted to escape the situation. But what now?

I turned around and stared at the window wistfully. This bathroom was on the ground floor, so I could climb out of it and hide in the huge garden until this mess of a party was over. But that would have been childish. I shifted from one foot to the other and checked my reflection. I was almost calm by now, but thinking of returning into the living room where Adrian was waiting made my pulse quicken instantly.

Voices in front of the door caught my attention and I tiptoed toward it, trying to eavesdrop to the conversation. I really hoped it wasn’t Rachel talking with Adrian about what I’d said.

“I've seen Nora Clark walk in this direction, do you know if she's in the bathroom?”

My heart stopped for a moment when I heard Chris-fucking-Cummings voice. I hadn’t even noticed him at the party, which wasn’t all that surprising considering I was occupied with Adrian. What was Chris doing in front of the door anyway?

The answer was simple: waiting for me. I should have never gone to Prom with him, or let him kiss me and grope my breasts. If Rachel had still been my best friend back then, she would have talked me out of it, and out of the two following dates after prom. It was pretty clear that I had the worst taste in men.

I ran a hand through my hair and tugged a bit harder than intended. What was I going to do about Chris? I really didn’t want to suffer through hours of him trying to flirt with me.

“What do you want from her?”

I choked on a bit of my own spit when Adrian's reply rang out. Oh, please, this could NOT be true. I wanted to snort. This was so typical for my life. My bad luck knew no boundaries. Adrian and Chris were standing in front of the door, apparently both waiting for me. This couldn't get worse. Unless they started talking about their dates with me.

I hyperventilated briefly but got it under control within seconds. I wasn't sure who the lesser evil was. Adrian or Chris. It was a tough choice right now. Chris had been chasing me for years; even after I’d moved to New York, he’d kept texting and calling me until I changed my phone number. The kiss and ‘groping’ we'd shared after Prom had scarred me for life. The way he'd thrust his tongue into my throat and the way he’d touched my breasts as if they were a dough he was kneading didn’t really make me want to give him another chance. I shuddered.