HOW I LOST YOU

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Chapter Eighteen

Sorry,” I mumbled, recognizing her face and the purple streak in her hair. Linda something. One of the Grinders. I wanted to cry. She was a sick player. One of their best.

She lifted an eyebrow and I smiled apologetically but I didn’t know what to say other than, “Hey.”

Kya giggled some more. We both looked at Kya for a minute. The glossy eyes. The stagger in her steps. Her chin drooping down.

“Better take care of your friend,” Linda said, her voice not unkind.

“Yeah,” I said. “Some guy bought her a bunch of drinks.”

“You Grace Black?” she asked me.

“Yeah.” I nodded, fighting dueling pleasure and embarrassment that she knew who I was.

“Woo hoo.” Kya threw her arms up and punched the air. “Grace Black. Miss Perfect. Look at her. So freaking perfect.” Kya slurred and put her head on my shoulder with a sloppy drunken grin. “She can do no wrong, my Skanklet. Unlike me.”

“Kya.” I untangled myself and smiled at Linda but my lips quivered.

I wanted to cry for Kya, but I wanted to cry for me too. This wasn’t the way this night was supposed to go. I wanted a rewind button.

“Something tells me you’re going to be holding her hair back for her in there,” Linda said. “Isn’t that what you girls do for
each other?”

I shook my head but she’d already started to walk away. “Good luck,” she called.

Not me, I wanted to tell her. I’m not like that. I led Kya into the restroom, wondering if Linda had ever needed to look after a friend in this condition. If she understood.

I pushed hard on the bathroom door and it bounced back and slammed my finger.

It hurt and my eyes filled. “You’re ruining everything,” I hissed at Kya as she stumbled into the stall.

She leaned against the door and sniffled, but snot ran unattractively down her nose. And then her eyes opened wider and tears gushed out. She dropped her head down. “I’m a terrible friend,” she wailed. Her voice broke and she sniffled harder.

I sighed but didn’t contradict her as she used her palm as
a Kleenex.

“I suck.”

She sobbed louder.

I wanted to tell her off again for ditching me alone at the table. Embarrassing me, never mind herself, in front of a top-ranked Grinder. For screwing up. Publicly.

I pushed her gently back and closed the door behind her. She was already blubbering and babbling and there was no use trying to talk sense in her current condition.

“You don’t suck. Just go to the bathroom,” I said quietly.

She fumbled around and locked the door and while she was in the stall, I went to the mirror, reapplied lipstick, and blinked at my reflection.

At what point do you walk away from someone who involves you in their screw-ups? I knew in many ways she merely acted the way she thought the world expected her to. Or the way she felt. Messed up. The damaged girl inside her won out sometimes. The damaged girl emerged from too much blue liquor. A few seconds later, she started singing and then she finally emerged from the stall, still pulling down her dress.

“You okay to go back to the party?” I asked. “They’re doing awards and speeches and then the mingling will start.” I stared at her, wondering if she could keep it together. I wanted to meet Betty. I was willing to take the risk.