Playing Hard to Get(7)

“You’ve never hung out at bars. And why wouldn’t we hang out at bars? We’re finally twenty-one and of legal drinking age!” Natalie holds up the glass of wine she poured herself a few minutes ago, just before she downs half of it. “We should pre-party.”

“I am pre-partying.” I wave a hand at my plate before I grab a cracker and slice of cheese and take a bite. “And then I’m going to binge something on Netflix.”

“No more true crime.” She makes her way over to me and yanks the laptop out of my lap before I can stop her. “I’m tired of hearing about murderers all the time.”

“But I love—” murderers.

Yeah. Finishing that sentence makes me sound like a crazy person.

“Get dressed.” Natalie tucks my laptop beneath her arm, holding it close.

“I have homework.” I pout.

“Liar. You were going to watch Netflix all night.”

“I need to write a paper though.” For next week.

“That’s due next week,” she says, like she’s in my brain.

Natalie knows me far too well.

“No more excuses,” she continues. “We’ll only go out for a couple of hours. If it’s boring and there are no prospects, then forget it. We’ll leave.”

“A couple of hours?” I groan. “That sounds awful. I have a nine o’clock class tomorrow.”

“And who’s fault is that? You know better than to schedule a class so early.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” I lean my head against the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling. “And what do you mean by prospects?”

“Don’t be dense, Jo. You know what I’m talking about.” She sends me a knowing look.

Boys. Men. Whatever you want to call them. Nat is a big flirt. It comes naturally to her, and the guys flock to her wherever we go. Back in the day, I didn’t care. I was smug with the knowledge that I had a boyfriend, and being surrounded by boys who had no interest in me wasn’t a problem.

But now I’m just as single as Natalie, and maybe I don’t want to deal with a bunch of guys trying to get in her pants. Maybe it’ll make me feel inferior that none of them want to get in my pants.

Stupid but true.

“Fine. I will go anywhere but Logan’s,” I finally say.

Logan’s is the bar where all the football players hang out. Which means they dominate the space. There is football memorabilia all over the walls and they are treated like gods the moment they walk through the doors.

Yeah. No thank you.

“Logan’s has the Monday night drink specials,” Natalie reminds me. “That’s the only place we’re going.”

I try to protest, but she’s not hearing it. Within minutes, Natalie has me in my bedroom, making me strip out of my sweatpants and T-shirt, while she picks out an outfit for me to wear. Once I’m dressed in jeans and a black cropped tank top that’s basically the same one she’s wearing, she corrals me into the bathroom we share, curling my hair while I nearly poke my eye out putting on mascara.

“You act like you don’t know how to apply makeup,” she mutters as she curls my dark hair way better than I ever could.

“I don’t. I rarely wear it,” I remind her.

Natalie shakes her head. “Your ex really did a number on you.”

I pause, the mascara wand still clutched between my fingers. “What does Bryan have to do with this?”

“He’s the one who convinced you he likes you all-natural. That you don’t need to dress up for him or try and impress him. He always told you he loved you for who you are and look what he did to you.”

I go still, staring at her in the mirror’s reflection until she finally meets my gaze.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” I ask carefully. “And what’s wrong with loving me for who I am?”

A sigh leaves her. “I always thought he wanted you to be this plain Jane, so no one else would notice you. He wanted to keep you to himself and then he goes and cheats on you anyway. Such an asshole. I hope he’s miserable with his new ho.”

Her words are like a punch to the heart. Made worse because I know she might be speaking the truth. “You really think he tried to…hold me down?”

Natalie nods, releasing the last bit of hair from the curling iron before she sets it on the counter and turns it off. “He totally did. He convinced you to stay home all the time too, and you know he wasn’t doing the same. He was out all the time. He’d post videos of himself at parties every single weekend!”

She’s right. He would do that. And I would get mad and then we’d start arguing. It sucked. I hated it.

I finish applying mascara, adding a few extra coats so my lashes are really long. Then I grab the cream blush Natalie gave me for Christmas last year and pull off the lid, applying bright color to my cheeks. I blend it in with my fingertips, Natalie watching me.

“He forced you to have a boring time at school while he got to have all the fun,” she reminds me. “He’s a complete dick.”

“No, Bryan is an asshole,” I announce, standing up straighter.

The proud smile on her face tells me I said the right thing. “Girl, you are preaching to the choir. I totally agree. Screw that guy.”