Page 2 of When The Rain Falls

That’s what happens when you turn twenty-seven. You start to do things like read the news, and drink water on purpose, and have a favorite plant store. Tate keeps pointing out that the classifieds don’t count asnews, but they’re in thenewspaper, so I’m counting it. Plus, I like to scan the Missed Connections section, just in case someone is out there looking for me. Meeting someone in person isn’t really working out for me. So, why not try random luck?

“I’m still not sure what was wrong with Alex. He seemed nice.” Tate props a shoulder against the wall next to the mirror.

“Can I borrow your lipstick?” I change the subject. The truth is that I didn’t really like Alex. I only slept with him because I was lonely. But I don’t want Tate to feel guilty about me moving out.

Tate studies me before slipping the purse off her shoulder and digging around in it.

“You’re avoiding the question,” she reminds me as she hands me a tube of lipstick.

“Alex, Jason, whatever.” My tone is light, but my heart feels dark. “They’re all the same.” I wave her off, lipstick in hand.

A group of loud, drunk women burst through the doors. One of them slips into an empty stall and the others huddle around it, laughing and talking loudly through the crack between the stalls. Tate watches them with amusement.

And I watch her.

Tate and I have been best friends since college. So I’m perfectly qualified to claim that since she met Dom, she’s the happiest she’s been in years. They are perfect for each other. Where is myperfect for me?

“Pssst. Tate,”I say, trying to gather her attention.

“Aimee…” Tate shakes her head in mild amusement as she turns back to me. “Why are youpssst-ingme?”

“Because it adds a sense of conspiracy and intrigue,” I explain. “And I love conspiracy and intrigue.”

Tate lowers her head in a chuckle. Trying to get a laugh out of Tate always makes for a good distraction. And Lord knows, I’m all about distractions. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met a distraction Ididn’tlike.

“Did Dom ask you yet?”

“Not yet. But I think soon,” Tate replies. Tate found a little black box in Dom’s dresser when she was doing laundry. It’s just a matter of time now.

“I can’t wait for you to plan a wedding.” I smile at her. “I’m going to be the most annoying bridesmaid in the world. Also, you have to let me design your invitations.” I point the lipstick at her like it’s a finger. “Advanced warning, I refuse to use the wordnuptials. That word gives me the shivers." What also gives me the shivers is the fact that Tate is going to get married and I’ll see her even less than I do now.

“You know it. I plan to take full advantage of having a friend in graphic design when the time comes.” She pauses before adding, “How’s hotel life?”

“A total vacation,” I beam, lying through my teeth. Apparently glossing over discomfort is a skill of mine. “They clean my sheets every day. The continental breakfast is amazing. And you can’t beat free shampoo." In other words, it feels sterile, and lonely, and I hate it.

“It’s not free,” Tate chides playfully. “It comes with the room. Aimee, you can’t live in a hotel forever.” I just smile at her. Because my bank account is starting to agree. “You should call your sister.”

That makes me wrinkle my nose. Tate knows my sister and I don’t get along. But we both know she’s right.

"I know. I will,” I say, popping open the lid of the lipstick.

Tate looks at me. Her eyebrows wrinkling with concern.

“Don’t worry!” I tell her. As I apply a thick layer of red lipstick, I bump my hand on the bathroom counter. A thick stripe of red slides up to my nose.

“How do I look?”

“Amazing.” Tate chuckles.She takes a step back and trips on her heels.

“Team Shitshow has entered the building.” I laugh.

2FUCK THIS BAR

FINN

There'snothing more obnoxious than a bar full of chipper, half-drunk assholes trying to have a good time.

Fuck this bar.

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