Page 17 of Lying Hearts

I stare at him, appalled. He doesn’t remember me? How could he not remember me? And I just revealed I know who he is. I want to crawl under my bed, but since he’s watching, I can’t do that, so I back-peddle my little heart out. “From the party tonight? Hello! I met them. I’m not completely anti-social.”

“Oh, right.” Then he looks at me, eyes narrowed. “But Ross wasn’t there.”

My tongue catches in my throat and I gurgle something like, “Corinne… she said his name. Just forget it! That’s not the point! You forgot her name and that – THAT – is the point!”

Brendan touches the tips of his fingers to his scrambled brain, then splays out his arms like he’s saying I love you this much. “Why am I being attacked here? I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to do.”

“Oh God.” I want to tell him a dream died tonight. My dream man with the horse and shining armor. Also dead is the belief that there are good guys out there. And not only that, but my friend who I trusted is the one who helped kill that dream. Corinne slept with Brendan. Her mouth was on those abs. Her fingers traced that V. Her lips touched his lips, whispered sweet nothings into his ear while he gently made love to her…

I’m going to be sick.

“If you don’t already get it, I can’t explain it to you.” The room is spinning, but somehow I manage to walk around him and not gnaw on his bicep.

“Hey,” he calls after me. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Leave me alone,” I mutter.

“Hang on.” Something kind in his voice turns me around. He opens the fridge, reaches in and pulls out my hidden Pellegrino bottle. Striding to me with a frown creased deeply into his forehead, he holds it out for me. “This’ll help the nausea.”

I take it slowly and look at it. How did he know this is what I wanted? Drunk-me is wondering if he’s magic. “Thanks.”

He smiles. “It was behind the stacked-to-Jupiter yogurt.”

“Oh.” I gaze at him, my head tilted. Stacked-to-Jupiter – that’s something I would say. I’m looking at him and I can’t help but stare at his smile. I could just lean in and touch my lips to his. Just brush them ever so lightly against the sensual fullness of his mouth. Find out if he tastes as good as I always imagined. See if his tongue knows how to touch mine in a way that makes my toes tingle.

“I’m not a bad guy.” He says, taking a step closer to me. “I know her name.” He stares at me. “Her name’s…uh... Shit, I had it!”

I hit myself on the forehead. “Corinne! Her name is Corinne! Jeez, why don’t you just get out of here before she wakes up! She doesn’t deserve you forgetting her name, Brendan Clark. See, I know your name and we didn’t even have sex. So what does that make you?” I struggle to say what I don’t want to believe, “It makes you an asshole.”

His eyes go hard. “From what I just experienced, believe me, she deserves exactly this.”

Before I know what I’m doing, I slap him hard across the face. We’re both shocked, and we stare at each other for a few charged seconds before he turns and fumes back down the hall and into her room. I follow him in a stunned daze, thoughts spinning, the bottle of Pellegrino still firmly held in my left hand. I stare as he races back out holding his shirt, his pants and his shoes. “Fucking women. You’re all nuts.”

I whisper-yell, “Keep your voice down!” I don’t really give a shit if he wakes her. I’m just furious in general and it was the first thing I thought.

He pulls on his pants and hisses at me, “Yeah, we wouldn’t want to wake the she-devil. I might lose my cock entirely!” He yanks on his shirt, then goes to put on his shoes but stops. “Dammit!” He glares at me as he passes to dash back into her room. I wait. He reappears. “Forgot my socks, okay? Is that alright with you?”

“What do I care?!” I sneer as he yanks them on.

One shoe. “You don’t!”

Other shoe. “No, I don’t!”

He stands, shoelaces untied, and puts his hand on the wall, chest heaving with angry breaths. He looks at me. “I’ll ask you again. What’s your fucking name?”

No holds barred, I yell like I’m screaming you big jerk, “It’s Annie!”

“Annie!” he yells back. “Good! Now I know who to stay far away from!” He storms out the front door. It slams behind him.

I run over and throw the bottle. Wet, green glass shatters as though in slow motion, a loud cracking explosion of I Love You!

I stare at the door, hoping he’ll come back. Panting, gasping for breath, I stare.

I hear her behind me, the one who betrayed me. “What’s going on?”

Turning my head like one possessed, I lock eyes with Corinne, my ex-best-friend. My ex-only-friend. “You just had to do it. You just had to fuck him, didn’t you, Marilyn? I mean, come on! Couldn’t you have shot him down like all the other schmucks you discard like gum wrappers?!”

Her eyes go big and soft with surprise. “You said you weren’t interested in him, Squid!”

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