luck for the night - rl.

47. not getting you over him, but getting you back under him!

When I arrived back at the bar, my friends were already outside, waiting for me, holding my jacket, dazed expressions on their faces. On the short walk home, I'd texted Zoya, the only person in our group who was still sober. Although my revelation earlier had sobered me up quite a lot, as well.

"What's going on?" Zoya asked as I walked up to them, thankfully taking my coat.

"We need to go home." I simply said, shrugging on my jacket and turning on my heels, hoping that my group of friends would follow.

"Where even were you?" Phoebe came up next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

"Making a mistake." I stared at the tops of my shoes, not even able to say out loud what I almost did. "This girl, she... She invited me back to her place. I went with her."

"I could've told you that was a mistake, babe." Mel appeared on my other side, hooking her arm through mine. Even if her words sounded condescending, there was nothing but honesty in her eyes.

I sighed, "I know. And you know what the stupid thing is? I was gonna go through with it. Until I heard this fucking song the girl played and everything just clicked in my mind." I turned to Zoya now, who walked beside Mel and raised a brow. "You will never guess which song it was."

Immediately, it started to dawn on Zoya's face, probably because she was the only sober one left in our group. "You're not saying it was Dress, right?"

I shook my head, not able to keep my smile at bay. "You know it."

"Booya!" Mel made a dramatic jump, landing right in front of me somehow. "I told you so!"

"If only I had listened back then...." I stopped dead in my tracks, my friends soon to follow.

"Are you finally gonna tell us what happened?" Phoebe asked, worry lacing her features. She definitely had not forgotten how she'd found me this morning.

"Maybe I should, but..." I paused, "it's going to be difficult. If you don't know the whole story. And the whole story is-" Dumb. Annoying. Weird. Mentally unstable. "Embarrassing."

Suddenly, Mel's face changed, from vindictive to caring, and without asking, she wrapped her arms around me. "It's okay. You can tell us."

From both my sides, Zoya and Phoebe did the same. "It's just us, girl," the latter reassured.

"I," I whispered, seconds away from confessing it all, "I have this thing..."

And suddenly, embraced by three of my closest friends, it did not seem so scary to confess everything to them. They had seen me at my worst, and they still held me like this.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and bit the bullet. My body told me to stop, my heart racing in my chest, but somehow, I knew it was right. If I could not tell Remington, I could at least tell them.

"I have this thing. It's been with me ever since I was a kid. I feel like I don't deserve to be lucky. Or well," I took a breath, "I can only be lucky one time a day." God, it all sounds so silly when I say it out loud.

The three girls were quiet, and for a second, I was terrified they would let go of me, their warmth around me would fall away in confusion and disgust.

"I understand," Mel broke the silence, "with everything that happened to you when we were young."

Surprise took over. "You knew?"

"Of course. I saw it all happen. Have you never wondered why my parents gave you all our leftovers? I practically begged them to invite you for dinner every night."