Page 32 of She Used to Be Nice
Avery’s mouth dropped open. Who gives alive animalas a surprise gift? Wasn’t this how animals ended up abandoned—because of “gifts” that recipients didn’t necessarily sign up for? Even Avery knew that a puppy was a major life decision and she didn’t fucking like animals. Noahthe animal lovershould absolutely know this. But he didn’t care, of course he didn’t, because he only cared abouthow these grand generous gestures would make him look, with no regard for the people whose lives would change because of them.
Avery studied Morgan, who had tears pouring down her cheeks and was clamoring about how she’d always wanted a golden retriever. Emma and Blair rushed to the microphone stand, begging to hold the puppy, while Charlie nuzzled his face into its soft yellow fur. Avery stared at her pitiful collage sitting upright on the gift table, which now looked like it was made by a blind toddler. Then she glared at the puppy, at Morgan and Charlie practically throwing themselves into Noah’s arms and howling with gratitude. Avery clenched her fingers into a fist. Every note of praise Noah received for this gift sent her deeper into a spiraling rage. The commotion crescendoed around her until the room spun, too, prompting her to stumble to the bar and grip the wood to stabilize herself.
She tossed back a shot of whiskey. As the warm, spicy liquid hit her stomach, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Hey, girl!” Blair said with her hands on her hips, her fake-nice voice extra high-pitched.
Avery plastered on a smile and said nothing. She could not deal with one more thing right now.
Blair eyed Avery’s shot glass. “Whiskey can really screw you up. You’re much better off sticking to something lighter like champagne.” Blair tapped her flute, the bubbles trickling to the rim.
Avery once again said nothing, because fuck that. Blair took a dainty sip of her champagne.
“You know, Avery, this is your best friend’s engagement party.” Blair’s voice was serious now, almost threatening. “You should probably have your wits about you.”
“Thanks for—” Avery hiccupped. “The tip.” She waved her empty shot glass at the bartender. “Can I—”Hiccup. “Another one? Thanks.”
Blair sighed audibly, drawing out the sound for an unnecessarily long time. “I’m just looking out for you, girl. I would hate tosee you get too drunk and hurt someone you love.” Blair took a step closer to Avery. “Again.”
Avery clutched her chest. She stole another glance at Noah, at the man who was frighteningly good at making everyone believe he wasn’t a bloodsucking parasite, and felt lightheaded, like she was standing on the roof of a skyscraper and peering over the edge to her death. She threw back the other shot of whiskey and sprinted through the front doors, out under the street lights.
Avery awoke groggy and hungover the next morning with a stabbing pain in her head, like pieces of shrapnel were lodged in her brain. How had she gotten back to her apartment? She closed her eyes and waited as bits and pieces of last night crystallized in her mind. She saw herself running out of Sel Rrose, hailing a cab in the freezing cold, swiping mercilessly on Tinder, matching with a guy—named Donovan?—and inviting him over. He was cute, but she remembered him sending her a gross politically charged pickup line that, in her desperate, drunken state, somehow did not turn her off. She opened her phone and peeked at her Tinder messages from him, one of which said:I may be a liberal, but I don’t believe in giving your pussy a safe space.
Jesus.
Avery closed the conversation and navigated to her home screen. Her eyes bulged when she saw she had fifteen unanswered texts, all from Morgan.
Hey where are you? We wanna take a group wedding party photo!
We’re gonna wait for you. You ok?
Avery where’d you go? We’re doing the cake
Did you leave???
???????
Avery slammed her phone on the mattress. What was shethinkinglast night? She wasn’t thinking at all, that’s what. She was too busy being drunk and selfish, just like she’d been senior year. But Blair should’ve kept her mouth shut, because as usual she wasclueless and didn’t know what she was talking about. The thought of having to deal with her snide, arrogant comments about that night all the way up until the wedding day made Avery want to scream. There was no need for Blair to keep bringing it up, but of course she would. She didn’t stop in college, continued to rub salt in the wound even when it was obvious that Avery was maxed out on suffering. Blair said horrible things about her mother all the time, and that was hermother,so what made Avery think Blair would show Avery any mercy? Avery didn’t need more reminders that she’d made a mistake, that the chain of events of that night senior year all started with her, even if they ended with Noah.
With shaky fingers, Avery typed a response back to Morgan.hey omg i am SO sorry. i got too drunk and couldn’t be there anymore. i’m so sorry.Then she hit send. She waited for a response, but each second passed by with excruciating slowness and no reply. It was only the first wedding event of the year and already Avery had fucked up because of Noah, which was the exact thing she’d been hoping to avoid by keeping quiet about him. Gutted by the silence, she picked up the phone and called Morgan three times. Each call went unanswered, ringing into infinity and then to voicemail. Tears stung Avery’s eyes. She couldn’t lose Morgan. Morgan was the only person who cared about her, the only person who hadn’t turned their back on her, the only person who still loved her despite what she thought Avery had done.
Avery stared desperately at her phone, willing Morgan’s reply to appear on the screen. She filled the silence with sobs.
10
AVERY SOMEHOW FELL BACKasleep and was jolted awake by the deafening sound of her phone ringing. Her pulse quickened as she grabbed her phone off her nightstand.Please be Morgan,she thought.Please, please, please be Morgan.
But it wasn’t. It was her mother. Who seemed to have forgotten that she’d called her daughter a “baby murderer” for believing that forcing a woman into motherhood was dystopian. At least her dad wasn’t emailing her articles from.info websites about Hillary Clinton’s child pornography ring anymore.
Avery stabbed the green phone symbol with her finger, too exhausted to deal with her mom’s inevitable second, third, and fourth subsequent calls if she couldn’t reach Avery the first time. Mom was always a worrier, but her propensity for panic increased tenfold after Avery’s breakup.
“Hello?” Avery’s voice was thick with sleep.
“Hi, Avery.” Mom sounded completely normal, like they were just going to brush their fight about abortion under the rug. Fine. It didn’t matter. Wouldn’t be the last argument about politics she’d have with her conservative parents. “How are you? You don’t sound good.”
Avery rubbed her eyes and flicked away a yellow piece of crust. “I was sleeping.”
“It’s a little late to be sleeping, Avery.”
