Page 102 of Always You

I know he didn’t mind looking out for me in high school, always giving me the feeling I was more important than anything.But this jet-set life is a whole different game. The girls ready to throw themselves at their feet when we entered the room, scowling at me like they wanted to rip me apart.

“Suck it up, Charlotte,” I mumble to myself, taking a deep breath, as one of the stalls opens and a tall girl walks out of it like she’s a princess. Her rose pink dress perfectly hugs her hips, and her long brown hair is styled with wavy curls bouncing around her head. I quickly glance at her perfect face as she grabs a lip gloss out of her small designer purse and red-oes her lips.

Not wanting to keep staring at her, I offer her a coy smile, turning around to do my business.

“Wait,” she yelps, making me turn around to face her. “You’re that girl who walked in with Hunter Hansen, aren’t you?” She gives me a friendly smile that doesn’t match her eyes, and I raise my eyebrows at her.

I shouldn’t be thrown off by his newfound celebrity status, but I am. It’s weird that the boy I used to spend my entire day with is now some kind of public property. That I have to share him with the world. But I guess this is our new reality. The reality where it’s not just the girls of my class who want him, but any girl out there. The reality where my best friend… isn’t just mine anymore.

“Yeah, that’s me.” I fold my arms in front of my body in a defiant stance, knowing exactly what’s about to happen. I’ve seen enough movies with mean girls and her energy reeks of Regina George meets Blair Waldorf, as if she invented the character herself.

“What are you?” She waves her lip gloss over my body in a condescending way. “His girlfriend? High school sweetheart?”

I huff in response, letting out a sarcastic chuckle and throwing her a scowl, though the accuracy of her assumption also cuts in my heart. “I’m his best friend.”

I want to lie and tell her we’re more than that, but I made him promise we were friends. Lying about being his girlfriend is not something a friend would do.

“Aaaaaaah, now I get it.” She turns back around to face the mirror with an evil smile on her face, and I narrow my eyes at her.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs, her back still my way while her eyes stare at me in the mirror. “I just assumed you were his girlfriend since they’ve let no girls up, yet they have for the last few weeks. Figured he needs to keep up the non-cheating boyfriend appearance, but since you’re just his best friend”—she turns around, her brown hair spreading out in the air—“I guess there’s no harm in making a play on that sexy fighter then.” She gives me a wink.

“Actually, we’re just catching up. I’m pretty sure he’s not available for hook-ups tonight.” I glare. “Maybe you’ll have better luck next week.”

Her eyes narrow at me as she takes a step closer, getting into my personal space, towering above me with her high heels.

“Don’t think you’re special, sweetheart. I bet a bunch of girls got up there as soon as you walked off the VIP deck. You’re just hisfriend. You won’t give him pussy tonight. But I will.” My face falls when she purses her lips in amusement, then walks out the door while oxygen evaporates from my lungs.

Blinking rapidly at my reflection in the mirror, I grab the cold marble of the sink with both hands, trying to hold myself up, a tight grip enclosing around my chest. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to get my thoughts back on track.

She’s right.

But he’s never put any girl before our friendship, and I’m sure he won’t start now.

He’s single, and free to do whatever he wants, but he won’t be hooking up with anyone tonight. Not when I’m here for him. He wouldn’t do that to me.

I get into the stall to pee, then wash my hands, getting ready to get back out there. Giving myself a once-over with a few deep breaths, I try to gather my confidence, like I did back in high school.

When I’m walking back up the stairs, I feel much better, deciding I will let nothing ruin my night. I’m in LA with my best friend, who I haven’t seen in forever, and I’m going to enjoy the limited time we have together.

With a smile splitting my face, I reach the bottom of the stairs and instantly my face falls at the sight in front of me. Jason has his arms wrapped around two girls, while some girl is giving Hunter a lap dance, and some guy that wasn’t here when I left ogles me with a red head tucked under his arm.

Oh my fucking god.That asshole!

A lump forms in the back of my throat while my heart races and a stone settles in my stomach. Breathing in through my nose, I notice the girl from the bathroom standing against the railing of the balcony talking to her friend. She quickly sees me, shooting me an evil smile that makes me clench my jaw, and I raise my chin, refusing to show her my discomfort.

For a few moments, I stand there, my feet frozen to the floor, not knowing what to do. The humid air mixed with alcohol makes my stomach somersault in agony while I wait for my fight-or-flight to kick in.

I want to get up there and slap the smirk he aims at the girl in his lap right off his face. I want to drag her off and kick him in the nuts, because the bastard should’ve known better than this. I don’t care if he’s the fucking king of the jungle or the newest fuckboy in LA, but this is just a fucked-up move.

I watch him with a heaving chest as he takes a sip of his tumbler filled with an amber liquid. The memory of Kim on his lap a few months back flashes in front of my eyes, only fueling my anger.I knew this was a bad idea.

Glancing between Hunter and Jason, I think about what the hell I’m going to do, until Jason notices me, and a busted look appears on his face. I offer him a questioning look, and he gives me a sympathetic one back, pushing the girl from his lap while he tries to get Hunter’s attention. When he’s too wrapped up in his new girl to notice, I shake my head with a humorous laugh before I turn around, storming back down the stairs in a cloud of anger.

I know, technically, I have no right to be angry, even though it feels like he stabbed me in the back, piercing right through my heart until it pops out on the other side of my body.

I get it.

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