The Hating Game - Sally Thorne Page 0,33

the world ruins them.

“May I go and freshen up first? I came straight from the office.” I swallow the other half of my glass.

The faint mint on my tongue deadens the flavor.

He nods and I make a beeline in the direction of the bathrooms. I lean against the wall outside them and take a tissue from the front of my bra and press it to the corners of my eyes. Beautiful.

A shadow darkens the hall, and I know it’s Joshua. Even in the furthest corners of my peripheral vision, his shape is more familiar than my own shadow. He’s holding the coat I left in his backseat.

I burst out laughing, and I keep laughing until the tears stripe down my face, almost certainly ruining my makeup.

“Fuck off,” I tell him, but he only comes closer. He takes my chin and studies my face.

The memory of the kiss floats up between us, and I can’t look him in the eye. I remember the groan I made into his mouth. Humiliation kicks in.

“Don’t.” I slap him away.

“You’re crying.”

I hug myself. “No I’m not. Why are you even here?”

“Parking is a nightmare around here. Your coat.”

“Oh, my coat. Sure. Whatever. I’m too tired to fight with you tonight. You win.”

He looks confused so I clarify. “You’ve seen me laugh, and cry. You made me kiss you when I should have slapped your smug face. You’ve had a good day. Go and watch the game and eat pretzels.”

“Is that the prize you think I’m playing for? To see you cry?” He shakes his head. “It’s really not.”

“Sure it is. Now go away,” I tell him more forcefully. He backs away and leans against the opposite wall.

“Why are you hiding here? Shouldn’t you be out there charming the shit out of him?” He looks in the direction of the bar and rubs his hand over his face.

“I needed a minute. And it’s not always that easy, trust me.”

“I’m sure you won’t have any trouble.”

He doesn’t sound sarcastic. I wipe my tears and look at the tissue. Quite a bit of mascara on it. I heave a shuddery sigh.

“You look fine.” It’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.

I begin patting my hand along the wall, trying to find the portal to another dimension, or at least the door to the ladies room. Anything to get away from him. He puts his hand into his hair, his face twisting with agitation.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, okay. It was a fucking stupid move on my part. If you want to report me to HR—”

“That’s your problem? You’re scared I’m going to report you?” My voice is raising loud enough that bar patrons turn. I take a deep breath and when I speak again I am quieter.

“You’ve broken me down so completely, I can’t even handle it when a guy tells me I’m beautiful.”

Dismay spreads across his face.

“That’s why I’m crying. Because Danny told me I’m a beautiful girl, and I nearly fell off the barstool.

You’ve ruined me.”

“I . . .” he begins to say, but he’s got nothing. “Lucy, I—”

“There’s nothing left you can do to me. You win today.”

From the look on his face, I think I’ve landed a punch. His shadow recedes along the floor, and then he’s gone.

Chapter 7

I call Helene in the morning to say I’m not hungover but I’m having a few personal issues and I’ll be in a little late. She is kind and tells me to rest and take the day off.

Rest, and finish up your job application because, darling, it’s due tomorrow.

I’m missing out on a pale yellow shirt today. It’s the color of nursery walls when the unborn baby’s gender is a surprise. It’s the color of my cowardly soul.

Last night after Joshua slid away from me, his face twisted with guilt and regret, I tidied myself up and sat back down with Danny and salvaged the evening. Danny and I have some things in common. His parents have a hobby farm, so my revelation that I grew up in a strawberry patch didn’t garner the usual amount of amused, patronizing scorn.

It gave me the courage to talk more about it than

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