“Want to order a pizza?”
We ordered a large pepperoni pizza and ate it straight from the box as we binge-watched Ted Lasso. It was total comfort TV and actually made us feel better. So much better, in fact, that when Dana texted both of us, asking if we would join her and Eli that night for their birthday dinner at Applebee’s (those two actually shared a birthday—so adorable, right?), we were all in.
After confirming that Charlie wouldn’t be there, of course.
We took our time getting ready, curling each other’s hair and paying far too much attention to details like winged eyeliner and perfect fingernail polish. I borrowed her red-and-black plaid skirt and fluffy sweater, and she wore a bright orange dress.
By the time we walked into the restaurant, we felt pretty damn good.
Until we saw them.
Dana and Eli were laughing, sitting across from each other, along with a few other people I didn’t know. They all looked like they were having a blast, with a few presents piled on the table’s center.
But also at the table, in work clothes, like they’d just left Planet Funnn, were Charlie and Theo.
I instantly felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I hated him for making me feel that way. I wanted to not care, but the buzzing in my ears and the heat in my cheeks told another story.
“Son of a bitch,” Nekesa said to me out of the side of her mouth. “Is the universe fucking kidding with this?”
I barely heard her, because my traitorous eyes were drinking in the sight of Charlie. God, I just missed him so much—and it had barely been a week. As much as I’d said that it was fine, the truth was that he’d left a gaping hole in my life.
Not the kissing Charlie—I didn’t know that guy all that well.
But my coworker/friend Charlie, the one I’d texted thirty times a day and talked to on the phone more days than not, had left me with an aching void.
Had it really only been a week?
“Let’s do this,” Nekesa said, giving me her I’m a badass look. “Let’s just sit our asses down and try to have fun.”
“That’s a tall order,” I muttered.
“Just try,” she said, and then she walked around the table and took the empty chair between Dana and Theo. The only other vacant chair was the one next to Charlie, and I wasn’t sure I was mentally strong enough to force my legs to move in that direction.
Dammit.
It was like he heard my mental curse, and his eyes landed on me. But instead of doing the right thing and looking away—or at least looking awkward—he gave me a smirky smile.
Seriously?
I channeled my inner Nekesa and went over to the vacant seat, even though I would’ve rather sat in the white-hot flames of hell. I immediately turned my attention to Dana and Eli.
“Happy birthday, you guys,” I said, pushing my lips up into a perky smile. “Did I miss the karaoke?”
I could hear Theo saying something to Nekesa about his car being in the shop and Charlie giving him a ride, which explained why he was there when he didn’t even know the birthday couple.
“You wish,” Dana said, looking so incredibly happy that I was glad Eli hadn’t been interested in me. “Starts in five.”
“Lovely,” I muttered.
I looked across the table, and Nekesa was talking intensely to Theo. I was trying to lean a little closer, not being obvious, when I heard:
“You’re going to fall out of your chair if you lean any harder, Glasses.”
I glanced at Charlie, and he was giving me the amused grin he’d given me a thousand times before. Which pissed me off. How dare he act like everything was normal? I gave him a very fake smile—the baring of teeth—and turned away from him in my chair.
I was about to say something to Dana when Charlie said, “Are you going to sing?”
I looked at him over my shoulder. “What?”
He gave a nod toward the bar. “When karaoke starts. You singing, Mitchell?”
“Doubt it,” I said, wishing he’d just leave me alone.
I heard Eli say something to him, and then Nekesa, Charlie, and Eli exploded into a conversation. So I just sat there, wedged in between two conversations like a loner loser. I desperately wanted to go home, but I was also so happy to see Nekesa not crying that I was going to shut up and deal for a while in the name of her happiness.
Y’know, since I had a hand in making her sad.
Karaoke began, and I was finally able to relax. Mainly because Charlie had stopped talking, and everyone else had started. Dana and Eli sang “Se?orita” by Camila Cabello and Shawn Mendes, and they were actually good.
And even more adorable than before.
They were couple perfection. And it made me sick.
Nekesa went up and did “Party in the USA,” which was awful, but everyone sang along so it was fun. I was in the middle of discussing Miley Cyrus with Eli when I heard the notes of the next song start.
No.
I closed my eyes and refused to look toward the karaoke stage.
“Bailey,” Charlie said into the microphone, “Bailey Mitchell. Come sing with me.”
“Do What You Gotta Do” began playing, and Charlie started singing to the Disney song. Badly.
Hearing him singing that song made me grit my teeth and curl my fingers into fists. It reminded me of what we’d been, of how great we’d been together, and how easily he’d just scrapped it.
And now, because of the convenience of location, he thought we could just pick it back up like nothing had happened?
I got up and headed for the door—I needed to get the hell out of there. I needed air, I needed space, I needed no Charlie. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked, and just as I pushed the doors to exit the building, I heard him stop singing and say into the microphone, “Bailey!”
Nope.
Not stopping, not going back.
I walked around to the side of the building, out of sight, and rubbed the back of my neck with both hands.
“Bailey?” Charlie came running around the corner, and I felt something spark in my chest as he looked confused, like he was somehow shocked that I hadn’t wanted to play with him.
“For God’s sake, Charlie, can you just leave me alone?” I dropped my arms to my sides and sighed. “You’re good at that, so it should be easy.”
He made a noise in his throat and his face looked pained. Guilty, like he knew he’d been an asshole. “I didn’t leave you alone; I just—”
“You literally left me alone at your mother’s apartment, and you’ve ghosted me ever since,” I said in a high-pitched voice that I didn’t like. “Don’t get me wrong—I don’t give a shit—but you can’t act like you’re confused as to why I’m not your friend anymore.”
“I knew this would happen,” he muttered quietly, almost under his breath.
“Knew what would happen?” I barked.
“This,” he said, looking agitated and sounding frustrated. “I knew this would happen. I told you this would happen.”