The night was winding down. It was the official spring break kickoff, and all the campuses had executed a mass exodus to more southern locations, where they could drink and party and revel in debauchery far from here.
The few sad stragglers left behind were trying to keep the party going. A couple making out near the bar gazebo. Two military guys at a table downing beer, obviously looking for loose spring break chicks in the wrong place. A lone, partied-out drunk man leaned up against a beam.
We were a pathetic bunch. Desperate not to let the night end, because we didn’t want to face the next day. At least, in my current state, that’s how I viewed the world around me.
Cam set a shot glass with amber liquid before me. “Last one. Torrance is closing shop.”
Torrance. I snapped my fingers. Although emotionally and physically numb, my finger and thumb didn’t quite connect. “I couldn’t remember his name.” I pretended to throw back the tequila, sending it over my shoulder, then glanced at Cam. “You should go home with him.”
I was done with pretending for the night.
She scoffed. “Yeah, that’s just what I need.”
“I’m serious. He’s hot. And you sacrificed your spring break in Cancun for me.” I frowned. “Go. Have some fun. Make bad choices.”
Her gaze captured the bartender, and I could tell she wanted him. Her devotion to me would keep her by my side all night. That’s not what I wanted.
“Hey, Mr. Bartender dude—” I called out.
“Oh, God…Cynth. You’re so hammered.” Cam laughed and shook her head.
He swaggered our way, a white towel slung over one beefy shoulder. He was dark-skinned and muscled, and he wore a devious smirk. He was everything a hot bartender should be.
“Hey,” I said, bracing my elbows on the bar. “You want to fuck my friend?”
He was used to this kind of attention from women. Torrance’s features registered no shock at my crass interrogation. He knew I wasn’t drunk. He’d been fixing me soda and water all night. But I doubted he’d turn down any ploy to get into a girl’s pants. He simply smiled and winked at Cameron.
Cam kicked my leg. “I’ll never take you drinking again,” she said, but her flirtatious smile for the bartender said she wasn’t embarrassed in the least. She held up a finger to him. “Give me a second with my girl here.”
He shrugged and headed to the register to start closing out.
Cam sighed as she pushed the shot glasses to the edge of the bar. “We only have my car. How are you going to get to your parents’?”
I waved off the issue. “I didn’t want to go there anyway.”
She hesitated. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Sure,” I said, an automatic response.
She swiveled my stool around, forcing me to face her. “I’m serious, Cynth. Today has been…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Insane.”
I’d almost willed all conscious thought of Drew and Chelsea away. But here it was again. Cam’s reminder hit like a punch to the throat. My glands thickened, making it hard to swallow. The sour aftertaste of resentment a nauseous sickness churning the pit of my stomach.
What happened wasn’t insane. It was very real, and it happened to women all the time. Insanity would’ve at least freed me of the obligation to deal with the fallout. I wished I could just cop out. Skip to the next chapter.
I wasn’t that lucky.
I was too aware of my thoughts, and what Drew had done to me.
What Chelsea had done…
I closed my eyes, let the music drown out my thoughts.
“Cynth…” Cam’s voice reached out to me. “At least it all went down over spring break. By the time classes resume, everyone will be moved on to the newest scandal.”
Except I would not, could not move on.
Maybe the board would investigate Drew. His wrist slapped for sleeping with not one but two students, and knocking one of them up. But his parents would buy him out of trouble. Prof. Andrew Abbot would be back to teaching in a month’s time. After he married Chelsea, of course, making the whole scandal some romantic tryst.
I would go through my last year as “the other one”. The salacious fling and dirty thing.
I didn’t have enough money to buy my reputation back.
“Let me get you an Uber.”
I opened my eyes. “All right.”
Cam took my phone and pulled up the app. “Where do you want to go? The apartment or your parents’ house? Honestly?”
The Dock House was much closer to Silver Lake. But our apartment was empty, and would remain so with Cam staying overnight with the bartender.
“I want to go home,” I said.
Cam nodded. She knew where I thought home was. “Ride will be here in twenty minutes.” She stared down the long bar top at Torrance.
I pushed off the stool and latched on to the counter to gain my balance. I hadn’t eaten that day, I realized. “Go ahead. I want to walk down to the dock first. Clear my head. Stare at the stars.”
She made an uncertain face, but she was already inching toward her conquest. “You sure?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah. Go on.”
She left.
I could take it back. Tell my best friend that no, I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts. That it was her idea to stop here and drink away my insane problems.
But she was already gone.
I dragged my fingers through my unruly, humidity-tangled hair, and for a second, I felt eyes on me. A creepy feeling of being watched touched the back of my neck, eliciting cold prickles.
I shivered the eeriness away. I’m distressed. Upset.
And alone.
The lights dimmed, denoting the bar was closed. I slugged toward the boardwalk. All my sad friends had vacated the bar. As I watched Cam leave with the bartender, a desperateness clawed at me from the inside.
What if the bartender had a girlfriend…or a wife? Had she even bothered to ask?
I used to be in the camp that believed men were solely to blame for their cheating ways. Now…? Chelsea’s blond hair and perky tits invaded my mind.
God, I loathed her.
My anger toward Cam and even Chelsea was unfounded, I knew that. I was a hypocrite. I had dated my college professor. A cliché deserving of my sad circumstance, as if I had asked for it.
Karma.
Maybe I deserved this pain, I thought as I stepped onto the wooden planks of the dock. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to walk out there. Maybe it was the dream. My biggest fear had already been realized. I’d already faced the hurt, the pain, that came from discovering the truth.
What else was there to fear?
Yet I wandered onto the pier wishing I could rewrite time—as if just being there was a challenge to fate.
So utterly illogical of me.
Love and pain make us irrational.
I wondered if Drew and Chelsea felt any of this heartache. My mind was going to dark, dark places. Every lecture from my psych classes was spinning in my head. No one ever succeeded in retaliation. And yet…
I wanted retribution.
I wanted both of them to experience this awful, humiliating pain.
Old, water-worn boards creaked beneath my feet. I couldn’t tell whether it was the pier swaying or me. I walked to the end of the dock and peered over, into the black water. Lotuses blanketed the inky lake top, their petals a strange iridescent white, dew refracting the light of the stars.