Screwmates(15)

It was exactly my luck. I should never have doubted it.

I sunk into my chair wishing, not for the first time in my life, that I had the superpower of turning invisible at will. Right about now would be a fantastic time to snap my fingers and slink out in all my see-through shame. Alas! I was still solid, and here, and blushing furiously.

Marc gave a half-smile and a half-wave, seeming to be as unsure about joining us as I was. I half-heartedly shrugged at him. Then he motioned that he’d be over as soon as he placed his order. I wanted to be near him, but not like this. Why, oh why, was he even here?

“Madison, did he know you’d be here?” Lizzie asked suspiciously. Apparently all my thoughts were on display today.

“That’s what I was just wondering,” Scarlet gasped. “We come to the Doughnut Lounge all the time and this is the first time we’ve bumped into him. It seems awfully coincidental.”

“Coincidental, indeed,” Ava agreed smugly.

“Oh, hush. This is the closest coffee shop within walking distance to our house. It’s not really that weird.” Actually, I was slightly annoyed that the Doughnut Lounge wasn’t exclusively my place anymore.

But, also, I was flattered.

Had I let it slip that I was meeting the girls here today? Was it truly possible that Marc had come here in hopes of seeing me?

I liked that idea a lot, but surely it was me projecting. After all, I’d totally be stalking him were the tables turned.

Then I remembered who my friends are. What they were capable of. The lengths they’d go to make this story even better when they re-told it amongst themselves later. “Hey,” I said sternly, meeting the eyes of each of the girls around the table including sweet eight-month old Charlotte on her mother’s lap. “Do not let on that I told you anything. Anything. I mean it. I swear, if any of you says a word—”

I cut myself off because Marc was on his way over, with a to-go cup and a white carry-out bag. I let out a sigh of relief—he wasn’t planning on staying. Thank god. I mean, I wanted to look at him all day, but this was not the correct circumstance.

“Hi, ladies,” he said, standing over us. “I’ve walked by here so many times. This is the first time I’ve decided to come in. How is it?”

“It’s so good,” Lizzie said, grinning a little too wide. “Please, join us.”

He held up the sack and his drink. “Thanks, but I really was planning just to grab and go. So I’ll leave—”

“Damn!” Ava exclaimed, interrupting him. “What on earth happened to your forehead?”

I almost choked on my Old-Fashioned old-fashioned doughnut. You know—an old school doughnut with the flavors of the—well, of the bourbon cocktail.

Lizzie brought her hand to her mouth and started coughing to hide her laughter. I kicked her under the table and gave her the death glare. It gave me a place to put my eyes because there was no way in hell I was looking at him at that particular moment.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his body shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Fell,” he said abruptly. He cleared his throat. “I fell. Hit it.”

Good. That was good. Now he could go.

“Ah,” Ava said, nodding. “On what?”

Oh my god, I’d kill her.

“A table. The table next to the couch.” I could feel his eyes boring into the top of my head, but I would not look at him. I would not. In fact, I would not look at any of them. I needed to examine my doughnut very, very carefully.

“Hmm. That’s weird,” Ava said, innocently. “How did that happen? Did you…trip…or something?”

“Yeah, yeah. I tripped.”

“Really? Over what?” Fabulous. Lizzie had managed to stifle her laughter and now she’d joined in.

“I don’t know. My own feet, I guess.”

Ava cocked her head. “That’s weird. You’re always so graceful.”

“Please don’t ever say that about me again.”

“Yeah,” Scarlet said. “That’s not a manly enough term for a man like Marc. Is it, Madison?”

I turned my death ray eyes in Scarlet’s direction. Did I say I wished for invisibility? I meant laser eyes.

Fortunately, Ava skipped over Scarlet’s interjection. “I just meant that it’s strange to think of you tripping over your own feet. Now, if there’d maybe been something else to trip over, like if you’d gotten tangled up in something on the floor, say like…a blanket. Or an article of clothing—”

“Or another person!” Scarlet offered.

Lizzie nodded. “And if there’d been alcohol involved.”

Obviously I’d have to get an entirely new set of friends. Besties since freshman year or not, we were done. Clearly the days of having each other’s backs were gone, replaced by an anything-for-comedy era. It would have been hilarious, too, if it were someone else but me.

“There may have been some wine,” Marc affirmed. “You know, Madison was there. She should tell it.”

My head popped up at the sound of my name.

Marc met my gaze, panic alight in his eyes. “She should tell it.”

Did he just throw me under the bus? Hell, no was I standing for that. “It’s really your story. I think it’s much better if you’re the one who shares it.”