I give him a tight smile. “Some of us have better things to do than stand in front of a mirror all day.”
“So true. Which is why I always have my cell phone at the ready.” He holds up his phone, turns on the camera, and winks at his image.
I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“No more ridiculous than you glowering in a corner.”
“I’m not glowering in a corner.”
“If you say so.”
“At least I’m not lifting people up on my shoulders in the middle of a bar.” Seriously. Only a short while ago, he’d hoisted Hayley up on his shoulders, where she’d swayed dangerously while holding a candle.
“It’s called having fun, Monica. You should try it sometime.”
“It’s irresponsible, Cameron. Hayley could’ve gotten hurt.”
“And yet,” he says, spreading his arms, “no harm was done, and everyone had fun.”
“And that right there is your problem,” I say while pointing a finger at his chest. “All you care about is fun.”
He rolls his eyes. “You need to lighten up.”
“And you need to grow up and take things more seriously.”
He snorts. “Sounds boring. Why would I do that?”
“Because life isn’t a joke.”
He narrows his eyes. “All right, Monica, you want me to be serious? Fine.” He leans in, so we’re nose to nose. “You don’t know me. You have no idea who I am. But for some reason, you’ve decided I’m the villain of your little one-act play. And it’s getting tedious. This whole I’m-moody-and-artsy-and-so-much-deeper-than-everyone routine might have passed for a personality in college, but now, it’s just tired and embarrassing. You don’t like me? Fine. But don’t pretend it’s because you’re somehow better than me. You’re not happy? You don’t feel you fit in? That’s your own fault. Don’t put that on me, and you damn well better not put any of that on Hayley.”
My heart pounds as my ears ring, but I refuse to let him see how much his words sting. “You’re an asshole.”
“Probably. But at least I’m not a dried-up, bitter bitch.”
I inhale sharply and, before I can think better of it, toss my drink in his face.
Chapter 2
one month later
Monica
“What’s another word for ‘thing’?”
I glance over at Claire. “Thing?”
“Yeah,” she says without looking up from her computer.
“Object?”
“No.”
“Item?”
“No, those words are too mundane.”
Frowning, I look around the coffee shop for inspiration but only find a sticker on the wall next to me that reads, “It takes courage to be vulnerable.” Rolling my eyes, I briefly consider pulling the sticker off the wall and throwing it in the garbage where it belongs.