Page 4 of The Wickedness of Man

I looked in the mirror, waving her concerns away as I fluffed my hair, frustrated at how pale the fluorescent lights made my skin look, and then finally decided to pull my waist-length hair into a messy bun. After all, we’d be dancing next, and sweaty hair clinging to my neck didn’t exactly excite.

“We’ve been celebrating birthdays together for decades,” I said with a scoff. “It wouldn’t be a birthday without both of you there. Besides, it wasn’t… you know… hisfault.”

Katie spun me to face her. “Mags, Danny doesn’t blame you, either, I’m sure.”

I looked away, afraid I would start crying, but Katie squeezed my arm until I looked back at her. “C’mon; dance floor time. We’ve got to burn off some of this cake before we eat all the pastry in the café tomorrow!

“Sounds good to me,” I said with a grin.

We returned to finish the Champagne, and even before Katie had a chance to wind down the table, Concepción and Derek had already paid for everything and were making their way to the dance floor. Katie took both my hand and Danny’s, leading us hurriedly behind.

Danny stopped before the tiled dance floor and made a quick excuse about running to the restroom, so Katie and I danced for a while on our own. The flush of bodies—not to mention the swell of the energy from the crowd—left me feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I fanned myself, mouthed to Katie that I was getting water, and she just spun to find someone else to dance with.

A guy came up and started grinding on her, and she shoved him off and tugged a nearby girl’s arm, then began dancing with her. Just like that, it was almost as if I didn’t exist at all. I pushed my way out of the crowd and went toward a small outdoor balcony and patio area. The view of the city from here was breathtaking, and I leaned against the rail, breathing in the cool air fanning my face.

I would have preferred a party just at Katie’s café, or even just a little restaurant somewhere. I wasn’t sure why she’d chosen this place. Already a headache was setting in and I was desperate to go home. Crowds like this… whenever the need and desire built in the room, it was like breathing in fumes. I’d never quite explained it to Katie—or Danny—but I was certain both of them knew this wasn’t exactly my kind of scene. I’d dragged my feet to every concert, party, and loud bar she’d ever asked me to accompany her to, and usually was the first to ask to leave.

I turned around and studied the patio. There were people here, hiding in the shadows of the overhead trees and the dim lights, some kissing, some just smoking and talking, but without being so confined by the crush of bodies, I felt like I could breathe a little easier.

Danny approached me from one of the tables in the back, surprising me.

“Hey,” I said, “I didn’t realize you were out here.”

“Yeah, I… I needed to get something from my car.” He handed me an envelope, looking nervous as I took it.

“Another birthday card?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

“No, it’s… can we sit?”

I paused in opening it, then nodded and followed him over to the table in the corner he’d been lurking in. I couldn’t help but feel he’d known I would need to come out for air. Like he’d been waiting to corner me on my own. My gut was twisting into knots as I sat, holding the card, afraid to open it.

“Is this what I think it is?” I asked. The music seemed far away, and the bass vibrato was faint. “You couldn’t just tell me yourself?”

“Can you just… please, just read it, okay?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, his leg tapping—a defensive posture I’d seen him take dozens of times.

I split the paper, pulled out a card. The outside simply read,I’m sorry, with some flowers on the cover. The inside was filled with Danny’s messy, tight scrawl. My eyes were already blurred with tears, so I couldn’t read the whole thing, but I picked out enough of the words to understand what was happening.

…can’t do this anymore

…not working

…think it’s for the best

…breaking up is hard, but?—

I stared at the bottom, where he’d signed,Love, Danny. I thought I might vomit.

“Can you… say something?” he prompted, after I’d been sitting there, staring at the card, not seeing it, for several minutes.

“What’s there to say?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

“C’mon, Mags,” he said, exasperated. “Please. I didn’t want to upset you. I still want to be friends, but… I just don’t think we’re goodtogether. I still care about you though, I just?—”

“Go away, Danny,” I said. I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

“Mags—”

He reached for me, but I stood so fast the metal chair clattered to the concrete behind me. From the corner, Concepción and Derek—whom I hadn’t noticed were one of the couples hiding in the dark to make out—stood up.

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