Slow Agony (Assassins, #2)(2)

I rolled my eyes, but I was laughing. “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point.”

“Good,” said Naomi. “You coming to Clint’s big graduation blow out party?”

“No,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because of the New Years thing,” I said. “I’m not going near him again.”

“It’s going to be a huge party,” she said. “You won’t even see him. You need to have some fun, Leigh. Exams are over, college is over—”

“For you, maybe,” I said. “I’m going to grad school in the fall.”

“Undergrad is over,” she amended. “Do something crazy for once.”

“I did enough crazy stuff to last a lifetime. All I want now is a nice, boring, unexciting life.”

“No, you don’t,” said Naomi. “You live for fun. You know it. I know it. Now, you’re going to meet me at The Purple Fiddle later this evening. No excuses.”

I sighed.

“You never know,” said Naomi. “Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

“I don’t want to meet someone.”

“So, you’re coming, though?”

I shrugged.

*

For about two months after Griffin left, I didn’t leave the house except to go to class. I practically starved to death because I wasn’t interested in food. When I did eat, I grabbed stuff from the frozen section of the grocery store or warmed up things at 7-Eleven. And that wasn’t really all that often. I felt broken and destroyed.

I still did.

Every morning, ever since he left the first time, I woke up thinking, “Where’s Griffin?”

Gone.

That was where Griffin was. Completely and utterly gone.

I hadn’t thought I’d be able to breathe without him. I was kind of disgusted with the fact that I could. I could survive. I was surviving. But I didn’t feel exactly alive. I felt half there, my physical body functioning, but my emotions damaged. Everything was screwed up.

But now, I wasn’t crushed and sad anymore. Instead, I was angry. Angry at the universe for letting something this awful happen to me. When I was with Griffin, it felt epic. I thought we were forever. I thought we were larger-than-life. I thought nothing on earth could stop us.

It was a cruel twist of fate that he could just skip out on me, that something as mundane as breaking up could happen to us. We weren’t supposed to do that.

But we had. It was over. Griffin was gone. I was alone. And that was the way life was. My life wasn’t some pitch-perfect, happily-ever-after story like I’d idiotically thought it was going to be. Instead, I was one of those cliché girls who was so upset that her boyfriend was gone she was completely ruined afterwards. I used to have plans. When I looked into the future, I saw Griffin and me together, making a life. Buying furniture together, planting a garden outside our house, falling asleep every night in each other’s arms. Now... everything was blank and dark.

I guessed that made me pathetic and hopeless.

Strong women didn’t pin their hopes on a guy. Strong women recognized that men were milestones, not destinations. Strong women didn’t care when people dumped them.

I was, apparently, the absolute opposite of a strong woman.

It was my fault, anyway. Naomi could say that it wasn’t all she wanted, but I knew the truth. I’d done something he thought was unforgivable, and that was why he was never coming back. I’d screwed it all up.

Sure, I’d never have done that unforgivable thing if he hadn’t abandoned me after New Year’s Eve, but I’d still done it. It was ultimately my fault. Even if he’d driven me to it.

So I went to The Purple Fiddle that night. Because I should leave my house. And because it was my fault, so I’d better get over it. Because I didn’t have anyone to blame except myself.

I sat at a table, toying with a salt shaker than looked like a mushroom, sipping a beer. There was a band playing tonight. No one that I’d heard of. I used to keep track of things like the bands that came to The Purple Fiddle but not anymore. I hadn’t been interested in much since Griffin left.

Naomi was into the band, however. She was dancing way up front. She’d tried to get me to come up with her, but I wasn’t in the mood to dance. I told her she was lucky she’d gotten me to come out at all.

I sat and nursed my beer and tried to think about something besides Griffin.

It felt like he was all I thought about. Thoughts of his absence intruded, no matter what I did. I could be doing my homework, and suddenly, I would remember that Griffin was gone, and that he wasn’t coming back, and that it was all my fault.

“This seat taken?”

I looked up. There was a guy standing over me, gesturing to an empty chair at my table. He was attractive. He had light brown curls and a winning smile. Face like apple pie, Naomi would say. “Um, well, no one’s sitting there, but—”

“Good.” He sat down. “I’m Lance.”

I didn’t know what to do. “Listen, Lance, I’m sure you’re very—”

“In polite society, it’s customary to give your name after someone gives theirs.” He was smiling. He had dimples. Seriously?

I couldn’t help but smile too. “Leigh. I’m Leigh.”