11. Ella #3
“Perfect! I’ll make it quick.” I promised and took off, weaving through the crowd toward the bathrooms in the back.
Quickly going about my business, I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. The bartender who’d served me earlier pushed the door open just as I was about to head out, and we almost collided.
“Oh shit, sorry!” I gripped her arm, my eyes wide as I looked down at her, while my other hand gripped the door so it wouldn’t smack into us. “My bad.”
“Nah, you’re good. Happens all the time. I’m easily overlooked.” She waved me off.
I furrowed my brows. “I wouldn’t say that .”
What the hell was she talking about?
This girl was positively stunning, with her large greenish eyes and long dark hair, streaked with bright red.
She chuckled, gesturing at herself. “I meant because of my height.”
“Oh, duh!” I tapped my hand to my forehead in understanding, my cheeks growing warm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be dense.”
“You’re good. Enjoy the rest of your night!”
I smiled. “Will do! Hope you’re getting lots of tips and the least amount of creeps possible!”
“Thanks!” she called, disappearing into a stall. I finally stepped through the door, which had still been caught in my grip.
Was there anything better about going out than those little moments you had with strangers in a random restroom?
Jumping out of the way of a girl gesticulating wildly to avoid getting splashed by her drink — relatable, could’ve totally been me — I basically skipped back to the bar.
I stopped dead in my tracks when I found the spot I’d left Lucas at occupied by a group of girls.
Maybe he moved somewhere different?
The dread beginning to swirl in the pit of my stomach told me I already knew better; I just didn’t want to face it.
In a last, hopeful attempt, I twisted my head to glance at our booth. Did he head over there without me?
Scanning the people at and around the table, I had to admit defeat.
Fuck . There went another one, vanishing at the first fucking chance. There was a burning sensation behind my eyes.
I would definitely not cry over a virtual stranger at a packed bar. There was no fucking way.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I turned back to the booth, fully intending to crawl back there with my tail tucked between my legs and an excuse about his disappearing act at the ready, when a hand grabbed my wrist.
I whirled around, facing a random dude I was pretty sure I’d never seen before.
“Hey, so Lucas said he had to dip. Emergency.”
Right. Had to dip . Which is frat boy code for “got bored” or “someone texted me a better option.”
I laughed so fake, I was sure even these complete strangers must have noticed. “Sure.”
When he exchanged a weird glance with the dude next to him at the high-top table they occupied, I narrowed my eyes at him, my suspicion growing.
Their words came clipped, too fast, tumbling over each other like they were trying to get it all out before I noticed.
“Just … forget it. Tell him I said it’s all good.” I pursed my lips, giving my head a slight shake. “Or don’t.”
Tugging my wrist out of his grip, my mouth twisted into a forced smile as I continued on my way.
There was a tight, aching coil behind my ribs I was trying desperately to ignore.
Had I been too much again?
I replayed our interaction in my head.
No. He seemed into it — into me .
So what happened?
It wasn’t like I was new to this. Guys left. Attention drifted. No biggie. But something about this one stung more than it should have.
He was into it. I know he was into it. You didn’t grin like that just to Irish exit five minutes later.
Why the fuck did this keep on happening to me?
This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Not ghosted after the fact. Not unmatched after a bad joke.
No, this was different. This was guys vanishing mid-convo like I triggered a goddamn trapdoor.
Sierra cheered as I reclaimed my spot at the table, thankfully too occupied or maybe drunk to inquire about my whereabouts.
My mind was racing, my hand closing around a glass of lukewarm beer someone thrust into my hand.
The conversation around me was animated and loud, but I was stuck in my head, thinking back to all these little occurrences of the past months.
Singled out, they hadn’t seemed too weird, but if you combined them…
The guy who blocked me right before our date.
Another who left me on ‘read’ mid-meme exchange .
One who literally vanished after seeing me in person once.
There was a pattern here. I just didn’t know what the hell it was.
And just like that, I realized who else was gone. Hunter.
He’d still been leaning against the booth like a silent threat when I’d left to get a new drink. I knew because I snuck a peek at him. Don’t fucking judge me.
Now he was gone. Poof . Like he’d never been there, after he’d barely moved all night.
Was that weird? Or was I just trampling my happy ass down the delulu path, imagining ridiculous things?
Absent-mindedly, I took a sip of the beer in my hand and was hit with immediate regret.
Even worse than I’d fucking expected. I stuck my tongue out, coughing with a grimace on my face.
He didn’t come to things like this, didn’t do crowds or noise, and yet, here he was. Hunter didn’t give a flying fuck who I talked to.
Right?
So why did it feel like he’d shown up just to remind me otherwise?