Page 2 of EverGreene
“Hey. Katy said you may be looking for me.”
“Jesus Christ!” I jumped, practically spilling the rum and Coke I’d been nursing since I arrived earlier in the evening. Regaining my composure, I looked over my shoulder at the person attached to the voice that had interrupted my dissociation, trying my best to plaster on a smile as, according to Katy, my usual scowl was giving ‘come near me and I’ll cut you vibes.’
“Women don’t normally scream that until later,” he said, a grin breaking across his face, half of which was covered by a white mask made to resemble the one worn by the Phantom inPhantom of the Opera, which this horny stranger was now tainting for me. Each word that had come out of his mouth sent the stench of cheap beer and nicotine straight up my nostrils, and the noxious fumes were now banding together to form a nauseating knot in my stomach.
“I sincerely doubt that,” I muttered, taking a sip from thered plastic cup that had become something of a harbinger of mornings spent hugging the porcelain throne.
“What did you say?” he asked, unable to hear me over Cardi B rapping about a part of me I feared would never be wet again with the way this night was going.
“I was just asking you,” I said, raising my voice, “where the rest of your costume is?” I gestured up and down the length of his stubby body. “I don’t recall the Phantom wearing an Under Armour hoodie and Hey Dudes while traversing the sewers of Paris.”
The would-be woman-to-woman dick salesman stared at me, unblinking. “Uh, yeah. Whatever. Look, are we going to fuck or not?”
“Well, when you put it like that—no. No, we are absolutely not fucking, Frodo.”
“Katy said you were desperate. I thought it was because of your flat ass, but it turns out it’s because you’re a total bitch.”
I wanted to slap the smile off his face. It was the typical insecure male response when their fragile ego was bruised. Dismantle the woman’s self-esteem, tear her down, gaslight her until she believes she’s being rejected by you. Something I was all too familiar with.
Not today, Satan.
“Both things can be true. I can have a flat ass while in fact also being a total bitch.” There was never a more satisfying face fall in recorded history than the one from my wannabe suitor. “It has to be what, ten—eleven o’clock? I think your mom is expecting you back at home.”
His face flushed, and he mumbled something I probably wouldn’t have heard even if the music outside hadn’t been cranked up to a level that would later contribute to my going deaf in about fifty years as he walked away with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.
“What the hell was that?”
Uh-oh.
I looked over my shoulder, locking eyes with Katy, who stood behind me like a stern parent. Her arms were crossed in front of her, which would have been a little more intimidating if she weren’t half a foot shorter than me—and if she weren’t dressed like a sexy accountant because she’d bet Jem she could make anything sexy.
“I’m sorry.” I snort—laughed, catching sight of the calculator dangling from a lanyard around her neck. “But I can’t take you seriously when you look at me like that.”
“This isn’t funny, Ever. You’ve been thank-you-nexting everyone I’ve sent over, as if you’re Ariana Grande. What was wrong with Milton?”
“His name was Milton? Damn, I really did dodge a bullet.”
“I’m running out of the single guys I haven’t already called dibs on. I’m done.” She threw her arms over her head in an exaggerated manner, causing her crop top to ride up and expose a hint of underboob that undoubtedly acted as a Bat-Signal to all the single men within a twenty-foot radius. Fitting because ‘Boobies’ was spelled out on the calculator that was lodged between her cleavage.
“And I appreciate your efforts. I really do. Maybe this was a bad idea. I—I think I just need to call it a night.”
Her face softened, but unlike any of the other people who knew my story, Katy kept the pity out of her eyes, for which I was always grateful. “It’s okay.” She took my free hand in hers. “If you need more time, I get it. You shouldn’t rush into anything you aren’t ready for. Especially dressed as a fancy chicken.”
“I’m a peacock.”
“Honey, I don’t care.”
I gave Katy an apologetic grin. “I’m going inside; maybe I’ll take off soon.”
She nodded, letting go of my hand. “Okay. Do you need me to come with you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “You plan all year for this. I’ll be fine.”
She inspected me thoughtfully, like a big sister assessing her inexperienced, socially awkward, younger sibling, toggling between the need to take me under her wing or throwing me out of the nest entirely. “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow; with any luck, after I crawl out from underneath Kylo Ren over there.” She crossed her fingers and nodded in the direction of a tall man clad in a solid black costume, resembling the one worn by Adam Driver inStar Wars.
“I’ll say a little prayer to the Goddess of Pound Town for you.”
“That’s why you’re such a good friend.” She moved to turn around but stopped herself mid-spin to glance back at me. “Oh, if you need Jem’s boyfriend to give you a ride home, I’m sure he’d do it.”
