Page 24 of The Red Zone
“Birthday girl not enjoying her party?” My words came out more slurred than I expected.
“No sex during the season, but drinking yourself silly is fine?” She bit back. “Makes sense.”
“What are you doing up here, Mae?” I leaned against the railing, trying to school my voice enough that my simmered rage wouldn’t show.
Was I drunk? Certainly getting there.
Were my words going to get ruthless and unrefined like they tended to when I was intoxicated?
“If I have to fake a smile while listening to another story about someone’s kids’ first play date or their painfully boring nine to five corporate job, I’m going to internally combust.” Mae came and stood right next to me, resting her forearms on the railing.
I studied her face as she observed the crowd, then pressed my lips against the rim, taking a long pull before extending the bottle in her direction. “Jack?”
She shook her head side to side, giving me a soft, closed lip expression with her rejection.
Good. More for me.
“You know what annoys me?” I started, feeling the warmth from the liquor taking root in my bloodstream.
She rolled her eyes. “If you say me, I swear to—”
“Yes, you,” I cut her off before she continued on with some line about how it was ill mannered to insult someone on their birthday. Too bad for her, because I was too intoxicated to give a shit. “And the fact that you’ve walked around here all night with a grin from ear to ear while you chit-chatted with other people. But the minute, thesecond, you lay eyes on me, your smile falls.” I took the last pull of whiskey from the bottle before lowering it down to my side. “Why is that, huh?”
“Why do you care? I thought you didn’t like me.”
“That’s the least of my concerns right now. I want you to tell me what I did,” I prodded, peering down at her. “What did I do that’s so bad that you can’t even look at me when I’m around, hmm?”
One might consider this conversation to be exercising the pillar of “conflict” as far as “The Three C’s” were concerned. Maybe there was one too many shots of alcohol in my system, or maybe it was the decades of pent-up angst threatening to break free, but I was done wasting energy trying to justify our feud with some stupid ass framework.
Until now I’d been under the assumption Mae and I’s feud was juvenile with no real inciting incident, but after watching her tonight, my stance on that changed.
There was something I was missing. And I wanted answers.
“Where is this coming from?”
I repeated her idiotic question, blood boiling beneath my skin. “I think this conversation is long overdue. Twenty years overdue, in fact.”
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Her voice was calm. Not a drop of poison coated her tone like usual. If anything, there was a hint of gloom that had taken its place. “Five seconds ago, I sat there telling you how fake all of that was. Those smiles? Fake. The giggles? Rehearsed. But if that’s what you want, then sure, I’ll give it to you.” She stuck out her hand and an easygoing smile transformed over her face. “Hi, October. How was your night? And the family… how are they? Oh, they’re doing good? Great, great. So glad tofuckinghear it.” The sarcasm in her last sentence was thick.
“Hilarious.”
As much as I hated to admit it, I saw her point, though.
Anyone looking up at us would’ve seen her smile, or comfortable posture, and assume we were making cordial conversation. Little did they know she hated me to her core. Although she might’ve had a point—fuck, I hated saying that— it still didn’t answer my question. If she could fake it with everyone else, why wouldn’t she do the same with me?
Something was missing. And I wouldn’t rest until I got to the bottom of it.
“I’m considering a career in comedy.”
“Stick to your day job.”
She shrugged, mumbling something to herself I couldn’t quite decipher.
“This thing between us is toxic, you know.” My tone was sharp and my breathing grew heavier.
“You’re telling me.”
But did it have to be like this? Did it have tostaylike this?
