imagine her running up to me, throwing her arms around me.
But it doesn’t happen that way, does it? Girls run up to me, but none of them is Anna. I spot her through the crowd and what’s she doing? LEAVING THE ROOM WITH KOPE.
Bloody hell! The cheek of him!
I am wound tightly with fear and anxiety as the worst possibilities overcome me; did she come tonight, not to see me, but because the others forced her? Worst of all, is it possible she no longer loves me, and she fancies Kopano instead? After all, he’s everything I’m not. Would Kope plan a trip to seduce her, and then toss her off at the airport the moment things get heated?
No.
I don’t want to listen, but I feel compelled. I shove my hearing through the walls and hear Anna and Kope bantering, and then he’s telling her the story of how he abandoned his life as a Neph and got into Harvard.
God damn it, I feel ill. I need a drink.
I’m greeted at the kitchen counter by a platinum blond with a bottle of tequila. That’ll do the trick. The tequila, I mean. It’s loud in here. I glance through the crowd to see Anna hanging on Kope’s every word in his oh-so-charming African dialect. She glances up and sees me as I take the shot handed to me. Then she turns her back to me as if I mean nothing, and my vitals plummet.
I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I let myself care this much for someone. I should be glad she’s out of my hair. She can be Kope’s problem now, not mine, but I’m not glad at all. I’m so fucking sad it’s pathetic.
On the heels of my sadness comes anger, crashing through. I never would have expected Anna to be so fickle. To love me one week and forget about me just as quickly.
I’m going to need a bit more tequila.
“Mind if I take this for a moment, luv?” I ask the blond.
“Only if you promise to come talk to me later.” She smiles up at me.
I touch her chin and say, “Deal.” Then I grab the bottle, lime slices, and shot glasses, and head across the kitchen to where my mates are gathering with Anna and Kope. When I’m standing right next to her I’m struck again by a sensation of betrayal. She’s acting sweet and innocent here with Kope, but I’ve seen her high and desperate for more drugs. I’ve heard her begging me to keep going. I know her. I know her when she’s sweet and I know her when she’s salty. I notice the way her eyes dart to the bottle with longing, because unlike the others, I’m watching for it.
“Tequila, anyone?” I say to her.
She squirms uncomfortably as others call for drinks and I hand them out.
“Kope?” I say, because I haven’t forgotten how he ignored my warning to back off. “Anna?” I want to call them both out for pretending to be perfect when they’re just as fucked up as the rest of us.
They just stare at me, clearly unhappy. Good.
“Oh, that’s right,” I say. “I nearly forgot. The prince and princess would never stoop so low. Well, bottoms up to us peasants.”
I’ve made everyone uncomfortable, and I don’t care. I want to laugh. It’s all a big joke, isn’t it? This thing called life, where we hurt, where we work so hard not to care, and then a bit of feeling creeps in and people use it to hurt us further.
We take our shot and it burns through my chest. I can see Anna gripping the counter, trying not to look at me as she craves the liquor in my hand.
“How’s your soda, princess?” I ask her.
“You don’t need to be hateful,” she whispers.
Her words are like a sharp pin to my inflated chest, and I feel like shite for half a second.
“If you ask me, I’d say the princess prefers a dark knight,” Ginger says.
If I’m the dark knight, Gin is wrong. “She only thinks she does,” I respond, but I’m not so sure she prefers me over Prince Kope at all. I can’t even look at Anna’s reaction.
We end up out back, and I tip up the bottle, chugging the pungent alcohol when nobody’s paying me any mind. I leave the empty bottle on the deck and head for the yard under the trees with the others. I sit heavily in a flimsy lawn chair and