Page 4 of She Used to Be Nice
Morgan’s eyes turned into hearts, like the emoji. “God, I love that. I love that so much.”
“Now imagine it embossed on one hundred off-white thank-you notes.”
They giggled and clinked their shots together, then flung the Fireball to the backs of their throats. Avery shivered once herstomach settled. Fireball had been her and Morgan’s drink of choice in school, mainly because it was the cheapest of all the booze at the corner store near Woodford. It didn’t taste that bad, either. But it had been a while, and that cinnamon burned horribly now. Forget college graduation, moving out of your parents’ house, and getting a job: Outgrowing Fireball was the real transition into adulthood.
The bar started clearing out, save for a few tables covered in empty beer pitchers and a couple playing darts in the back corner. Avery was surprised that people were leaving already. It was only 1AM—the night was young and teeming with potential! She was about to ask Morgan what bar they should go to next, until Morgan yawned and scooted off her stool.
“Okay, it’s getting late. I’m gonna head home. Wanna split a cab uptown?”
Avery knew Morgan had the right idea. The night was not young at all. Nothing good came from being out alone downtown at one in the morning, scraping the bottom of the nightlife barrel to find something to do. Nights that seemed sparkly and infinite were just black holes that sucked Avery in, disintegrating her into dust. But going back home to an empty apartment sounded even worse.
“Nah,” Avery said. “I think I’ll stay out a little longer.”
Morgan shook her head in disapproval, but it was lighthearted, like she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop Avery so why even try. This was part of their dynamic now: Avery would be Avery in ways Morgan didn’t understand, and Morgan would just let it happen, almost as a joke, unknowingly giving Avery the go-ahead to self-destruct. Avery would’ve felt guilty about it if she could feel anything besides panic at the threat of being alone with her thoughts again.
“If you say so.” Morgan draped her crossbody bag over her shoulder. “Just promise me you won’t black out and sleep with the bartender.”
Jim grinned at Avery from behind the bar. A piece of spinach was stuck in his gums, right above his front tooth.
“He’ssohot though,” Avery cooed sarcastically, giving Jim a seductive wave. “It’ll be tough to resist.”
Morgan scrunched her face. “You’re gross.”
“But you love me.”
Morgan sighed, her lips curving into a smile. “Unfortunately.”
Avery hugged Morgan goodbye, then watched her walk out of the bar and disappear into the night. She could’ve sworn Morgan was moving slower and steadier than she normally did, like she was practicing walking down an aisle of a church. Avery put her hand on her chest, her heart warming at the idea of Morgan in a gorgeous white gown, a lace trail gliding on the floor behind her. She imagined Charlie, his usually disheveled curly hair neatly combed, waiting for Morgan at the altar. She imagined the mist in both of their eyes, their romantic exchange of vows, the roar of applause as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. And she imagined herself running around the venue with bobby pins, holding Morgan’s dress up as she peed, giving a heartfelt speech in front of the crowd—being the perfect maid of honor that her best friend deserved, proving to their friends that she wasn’t the cheating monster they thought she was.
Avery pushed away her beer. There was half a bottle left, but she wasn’t going to drink the rest. No, she was going to go home, back uptown to her apartment. She was going to put on her matching pajamas, make some peppermint tea, and read a book, the way the old Avery would have behaved, content and serene with peace and quiet. She wasn’t going to let what Noah did to her affect her anymore. She might have lost her boyfriend, her friends, and her dignity all in the same night, but she needed to get her shit together for the sake of this wedding. And, she supposed, for herself.
2
AVERY SWIVELED ON HERstool to face Jim. “Can I get the check, please?” she asked.
Look at her, being responsible! Morgan would be so proud.
Jim was behind the bar punching numbers into a touch screen computer when he met her eye. Avery winced when she saw the dandruff still visible on his shoulders. Morgan didn’t have to worry. There was no way Avery was sleeping with this man. Her first task in getting her shit together would be to raise her standards so they were at least higher than the floor.
“Sure thing, little lady,” he said.
A whiff of Jim’s powerful cologne startled Avery’s senses, sending them into overdrive. She relished the smell, surprised by how much the pungent scent turned her on. And “little lady” was far from the worst name she’d ever been called. Ryan had called her way more awful things when he broke up with her.
She drummed her fingers on the bar. Maybe she could stay out a little bit longer. Or maybe just until two. New rule: Nothing good came from being out alone attwoin the morning.
Avery waved a dismissive hand. “Actually, never mind the check.” Morgan would never have to find out about this. Not that she’d judge Avery, exactly, but Avery wasn’t dumb. She knew Morgan didn’t approve of her behavior lately, could see it in Morgan’s eyes every time they parted ways on a night out orrecounted their weekends spent separately. And frankly, Avery didn’t blame her. But this didn’t need to be Morgan’s problem, nor could Avery handle seeing the person she’d become through her best friend’s worried gaze. Morgan was probably halfway home by now anyway, fantasizing about her wedding and her future with her fiancé, like she should be doing. Avery could handle herself fine. Being forced to learn how to be alone had made her very self-sufficient.
“You sure?” Jim asked.
“Absolutely. I’m enjoying your company too much.” Avery leaned forward, effectively serving up her cleavage on a silver platter. She knew this was all you had to do to get a guy to sleep with you: boost his ego, show some tit. It was too easy. She almost wished it weren’t. Maybe then she’d stop doing it. But it was too tempting of a power trip, seeing the way a guy’s face lit up at the mere suggestion of her cleavage. She couldn’t resist dangling herself in front of them, controlling them with the tease of her body, she the magician and them awaiting her next trick. That night with Noah was the last time a man would control her first, or ever again.
Jim chuckled. “Well, thank you. Seems like your friend got bored of me, though.”
“Nah, she’s just got a fiancéwaiting at home.” Avery’s mouth twisted at the wordfiancé, but then she snapped herself out of her ridiculous jealousy. She refused to be one of those single women who resented happy couples. She was once just as happy, just as in love, with a man she thought was her forever. Until he wasn’t.
“Can I get another shot?” she asked. “The Fireball’s fine. Pour one for yourself, too.” She batted her eyelashes. “On me.”
“Ah, I can’t,” Jim said. “I’m on the clock.” He pointed at an analog clock mounted to the wall above the bathroom. “I get off at three.”
