Page 299 of Rock Me All Night
31
Three splashesof cool water on my face and I'm still this awful mix of hot and cold. There are two other girls in this little bathroom. They teeter over the sink with their stripper heels, adding another round of lipstick to their already made-up lips.
One of them, the younger, blonder one, looks at me with pity in her eyes.
"Boy troubles?" she pouts.
Can't blame her for asking. Mascara is running down my cheeks. Eyeliner smudged beyond meaningful description. My lipstick isn't doing much better.
I grab a paper towel and wipe my face as clean as I can. "I'm fine, thanks." The most obvious lie in the history of lies, but it's not like blondie cares.
I hide out in the handicapped stall, resting my ass against the metal bar. There's a plentiful supply of toilet paper for wiping the smudged makeup from my eyes. I can't see it, but I'm sure it still looks like shit.
The main door open and all the noise—half a dozen different songs being sung off key—fills the room. The party girls teeter out and someone else comes in.
"Kara."
It's Meg.
She knocks on the stall door. "You want to talk about this?"
"Not really, no."
"You want to get blind drunk?"
It's a tempting offer. Certainly would help me forget that word that starts with a D and rhymes with screw.
But it will feel worse in the morning.
"No thank you," I say. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to find some way to disappear and never have to think about him again." I toss a mascara-stained piece of toilet paper into the trash can. "I'll take a cab... somewhere."
"You can spend the night at my place," she says. "Or we can go to the Malibu pad. Plenty of room and Miles always has a fridge full of food."
"No Miles right now," I say. "Your boyfriend is nice and all, but—"
"I get it." She taps the door. "Want to open up?"
"Not really, no."
"I've got your purse. We can leave right now and call a cab. You don't have to talk to anyone but me."
I go to open the door. "You swear no one else is in here?"
"On my love of sashimi."
A tiny laugh breaks up the tension in my throat. So it's possible to feel something good besides the desperate need Drew stirs inside me. That's a start.
I open the door. Meg steps inside. She squeezes me with a very tight hug.
"I blame myself," she says. "If I hadn't been in relationship land, you wouldn't be forced to spend so much time with Drew."
"Yeah, I really dreaded all that time with him." I tear a piece of toilet paper in half. "It was all awful. Not like I was desperate to be around him constantly."
"Still. I haven't been around as much as I should be. You've always been the world's best friend." She steps back and looks me in the eyes sympathetically. "I'm sorry. This sucks."
"You can say that again."
"This sucks."
