Bitchy? Maybe. Satisfying as hell? Definitely.
Lexi and I were the recipients of more than a fewjudgmental looks as we made our way to the bar to grab another round. We decidedly ignored them, paid for our drinks, and walked back to reclaim our small table near the stage.
“Girl, if you don’t lock that shit down,Iwill. That boy is so fucking hot, every girl in this room would kill to be you right now,” Lexi said, her light blue eyes wide as she stared at me across the high-top. “In all seriousness, though, watch your back. Some of these bitches wouldn’t bat an eyelash as they sliced your throat with a lethally manicured fingernail and left your body to rot in the dumpster outside.”
“That’s comforting, Lex. Thanks so much.”
“I try,” she grinned.
“I think I love him,” I blurted.
Lie. I totallyknewI loved him.
“Yep, “Lexi nodded sagely. “You were a goner the minute that boy sauntered into your life.”
“He doesn’t saunter,” Ipointed out, sipping my drink.
“You’re right. You were a goner the minute he scraped you off the pavement when you fell over that fire hydrant.”
“After Ifell?” I asked. It seemed Lexi and I remembered the events of that day very, very differently.
“Yep,” Lexigiggled.
I shot a glare in her direction.
“You love him,” she sighed happily, a dreamy look drifting over her face.
“Lex,” I said, warningly. Admitting it out loud was one thing; discussing it casually over drinks was another.
“I know, I know,” shegrumbled. “You don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’mgoing to run to the bathroom,” I told her, rising from my seat. I needed to clear my head. “Be back in a second.”
“Want me to come?” she offered, her eyes fixed on the stage.
“Nah, stay here and guard the table. I won’t be long.”
“Mmkay,” she murmured, practically drooling as she watched Tyler perform a kickass drum solo. I cast a final look at Finn, who was fully engrossed in his performance, his eyes closed in concentration, and I felt my heart swell with so much feeling I thought my ribs might crack under the strain.
Tearing my eyes away, I turnedand headed for the back hallway where the bathrooms were located. As I pushed open the door to the women’s room, I froze in the doorway when I saw that all of the stalls were occupied, with several girls waiting in line. Every head swiveled to look at me as the door swung open, and I abruptly realized that I would never be able to think surrounded by so much female hostility.
Allowingthe door to swing closed again, I turned my back to the bathroom and glanced down the dim hallway. The walls were dingy, covered in peeling gunmetal gray paint and a myriad stains whose origins I had no desire to discover. A single bare, flickering light-bulb swung from a wire on the ceiling, and the hallway’s other two doors offered passage either into the men’s room or out into the narrow alleyway running adjacent to Styx.
It wasn’texactly an environment suited to finding one’s inner Zen.
Inunder a second my decision was made and my feet were moving, carrying me toward the door to the alleyway. I needed to breathe the night air, to see the ever-present night sky and regain an iota of control over the parts of me I felt spiraling wildly.
The door was constructed of heavy, soundproofed metal and, judging from its worn, rusted appearance, it didn’t appear to see frequent use. It squealed on its hinges as I pushed it open, flecks of rust falling like ashes into the dim alleyway beyond. At my feet was a lone cinderblock, pushed against the wall as a makeshift doorstop. Leaning down, I used one hand to grab it and dragged it over to prop open the door.
Yellow light from the hallway spilled out into the alley, illuminating a small section of the otherwise dark passage.Stepping through the doorway and down two concrete steps, I acted on an instinct so deeply ingrained I couldn’t quite remember its origins; my head tilted back, gaze lifting to the night sky, and as the stars swam slowly into focus, I was overcome with a feeling of infinite calm.
I’dcraved the grounding serenity of the stars for as long as I could remember; the vastness of the galaxies above had always made my problems seem somehow smaller or more manageable – whether it was from my perch on the Victorian’s rooftop, from the French-style balcony off my bedroom in my father’s estate, or from a dilapidated porch stoop in a long-forgotten foster home. Now, thanks to Finn, I could even see the stars from my bed as I looked up at my ceiling. The thought made me smile into the dark night.
I leaned back against the cool brick wall opposite the club door, head tilted up to theconstellations above. With an efficiency born from years of practice, I rattled off their names in my mind.
Andromeda.
Pisces.