If the damn phone would just leave her alone. If Russell would just stop looking at her. On top of the workload she could feel piling up by the minute, trying to discern Russell’s thoughts and intentions, analyzing his actions, was starting to feel like the straw that would snap the math geek’s back. She didn’t feel like herself, and that scared her.
Everything hurt, her muscles protesting at being tensed for so long. Worst of all, her heart tripped over every beat, as if performing its job on an empty tank of gas. For a really long time, she’d had feelings for Russell; she simply hadn’t known how to define them. The horrible way she missed him when he wasn’t around. The utter joy and relief that exploded in her chest when she saw him coming. Upstairs, everything had come into focus, only to be made blurry again. In every aspect of her life, succeeding didn’t seem possible. For each piece of work she completed, it divided into two. Every time she swore that she and Russell were on the same page, he turned it. Well, she was done. Done.
Abby started when Louis plopped down beside her on the chair, throwing a brotherly arm around her shoulders. It was only then she realized Ben and Russell had joined them, too, taking up the surrounding chairs. How long had they been sitting there? She refused to look at Russell but could feel his displeasure cloaking her from two chairs away. Or maybe it was directed at Louis. Thankfully, her ability to care had disappeared along with her third margarita. Which—praise the Lord—had finally gone to her head.
“Hey, there,” Louis said, shaking her a little. “We haven’t heard your shitty-summer-vacation story yet.”
She felt a rush of gratefulness toward Louis for including her in the conversation and redirecting her thoughts from Russell to where it should be. Her friends. This weekend away from work. Making new memories. “Um.” She took a calming breath. “I spent my summers here, so I don’t think they can be classified as shitty.”
“Come on.” Honey smiled at her. “Everyone has something. Bad kisses, a wave stealing your bikini top. Camping outside the box office for Garth Brooks tickets only to find out he’s playing the next town over.” She patted her blond hair. “Not that I ever did that last one.”
Shitty-summer-vacation story. Maybe purging the old memories would make it easier for new ones to take their place. “One summer, my parents left me here with the nanny and went to Italy for a month. Does that count?”
No one said anything. She heard Russell curse behind her and frowned. Not the reaction she’d been going for. Honestly, her story hadn’t been as bad as the others, had it? Their expressions told Abby they felt bad for her, and it really didn’t sit well. Not when she already felt bad enough for herself to sink an oil tanker. Not when she desperately wanted to move on from those memories.
“Sorry, Abby,” Louis muttered. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Actually,” she interrupted, striving for a bright tone, “it was a lot of fun. The nanny brought her daughter over, and we made up dances. I still remember it.” Reaching to the very bottom of her liquid courage, Abby stood, dislodging Louis’s arm. “Want to see it? I actually have the song on my phone.”
Roxy whooped. Honey put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loud enough to echo around the pool area. “Hell yeah, we want to see it. DJ, drop that beat.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Abby murmured, positioning herself in an open space that faced her ring of friends. Again, she felt Russell staring but swatted his attention away like a bug. Her nerves were mysteriously absent. Any kind of public speaking or performing—which had been proven during a disastrous piano recital in fourth grade—typically broke her out in hives. But right now? Recapturing some of the bravado she’d discovered this morning at the office felt like the only course of action. That Abby had started to slip away, and she needed to grab on with both hands, yank her back.
She found the song in her phone, hit Play, and tossed the phone to Ben, who placed the device in the portable Bose speaker and cranked the volume, sending “Everybody Dance Now” blasting through the speakers. Simply hearing which song she would dance to sent her friends into a laughing fit, but the laughter did nothing to detract from her courage.