Devil in the Details

ELEVEN - Sam-I-Am - Pt. 1

Lana invited me to brunch on Sunday morning.

I was exhausted, and my bed felt a lot more comfortable than a stuffy overpriced brunch place, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. "I'll pay!" she offered on the phone. "Just come!"

So I dragged myself out of bed, put my hair up in a bun, and made the trek into town.

We met up at the nicest restaurant in Arlington. It was on an offshoot of Main Street and absolutely full of old ladies. This was a place that served tiny finger sandwiches and mimosas in gold-tipped champagne flutes—not that I ordered one. I had had enough alcohol for one day.

Lana was waiting for me at a seat in the front of the restaurant next to a beautiful bay window framed in white wood. She was bathed in the morning light; it dappled her skin with golden streaks, playing up the contrast of her long black hair.

"How's your hangover?" she asked with a grin as I took a seat.

"I'm not hung over," I said, holding up a hand defensively. "I only had two drinks last night. Promise. I'm just tired from being out so late."

"I'm sorry for assuming," Lana said, peering at the menu. "You just seemed a lot spunkier last night. I thought it was the alcohol."

I know, I thought, remembering some of my bolder moves with dread. I couldn't believe I had dragged Alex away from Billy to dance with me. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

Lana must have seen me flush, and added quickly, "You didn't do anything embarrassing! You just were more assertive. I liked it." She grinned. "And it all worked out. I got to dance with Billy and it was all thanks to you."

"I'm glad something worked out last night," I mumbled, sipping a glass of ice water.

Lana frowned. "Are you all right? I was hoping this was going to be a celebratory brunch."

I rubbed my face with my hands. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a Debbie Downer. But I think you were right. I'm lonely. And last night just made me acutely aware of that fact." I drummed my fingers on the menu. "I danced with Peter."

Lana's jaw dropped. "Thatcher? Wait—are you into him?"

"No," I said quickly. "I ended up dancing with him because I couldn't put up with anyone else. You and Billy were paired up. Taylor and Clarissa were off somewhere. I just needed an escape."

Lana wrinkled her nose. "Really? I thought you and Alex were hitting it off."

I let out a short laugh. "As soon as I stepped away, Valerie was all over him. And he didn't seem to mind."

Lana shook her head. "Valerie was so drunk last night. Like, incredibly drunk. I'm not sure Alex was into it."

"I don't believe you," I mumbled. "He seemed pleased enough when she dragged him away." I pressed my hand on my face. "Why do girls do that? Act like they're your friend and then just... fuck things up for you."