Page 44 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
“Men aren't the answer to my problems.”
“You just said it's a man's world. A man beat you today, and you were the better candidate.”
“He's got all the qualifications. That's the problem. He just doesn't have the experience. He has all these accreditations and the bosses obviously have faith in him, but he's still going to ask me about things because I've been there for years longer than he has. It makes my blood boil.”
“Then listen to me! Come out with me and Scott tonight.”
I sense her impatience. “And be a third wheel?”
“We're meeting the spin class friends and then we're going to watch a movie. You can come to the drinks.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Miserable, frustrated, angry. You need a good lay.” Arla gets up and smoothes down her dress.
“You look really nice in that. You should quit wearing yoga pants and loose sweatshirts.”
“That’s what Scott says,” she replies, happily.
“That’s what Scott says.” I mimic her words, and roll my eyes.
“Why don't you call Lance?” she suggests.
“Why would I call him?” The anger in my voice is hard to hide. Arla raises an eyebrow. He's yet another man who is causing me frustration and untold angst. I don't need to think about him last thing at night. I don't need to think about him first thing in the morning.
And yet I do.
I don't need to get aroused just thinking about the kiss we shared.
And yet I do.
He's like a virus in my brain infecting every thought, puncturing every feeling, reminding me of what he is, and what he was, what we had, and what we could have been.
“Angry, much?” Arla frowns at me.
“It's not a good day. I came here hoping you would cheer me up.”
“You made out with him last time,” Arla says, ignoring my comment. “Maybe you just need to do it again.”
Do it again?
“I never did anything with him,” I say, “At school ...” My guilt trips me up.
Arla shakes her head. “I believe you. I'm not like the others. I stood by you, remember?”
She goes on to remind me of that time when everyone looked at me like I was a whore. Only Arla stood by me. I feel bad that I lied to her because the truth is, I was in love with Lance Turner by the end; when the arguments at home had gotten too much. He was my safe place. My fantasy figure. My hero.
“What are you going to do tonight then?” Arla asks, glancing at her wristwatch. She looks restless and I feel like I’m in the way.
She has a life, and I need to go home.
I get up, feeling a little unsteady. The sudden rush of blood to my brain makes me feel light headed. “You have a good time. Don't worry about me.” I walk to the door.
“You should have gone out with Preston. Why didn't you take him up on his offer?”
I grunt, unladylike. “Because Preston is the last person I want to see tonight.” The man makes my blood boil. “He said, ‘at least now I'll have you under me,’ and he grinned.”
Arla makes a face as if she's smelled horseshit. “He saidwhat?”
