Page 124 of Him Lessons

“Oh my god! How have you been?” the older woman shrieked.

“G-good,” Andy said, suddenly feeling the strongest urge to flee. But manners dictated she ask at least one follow-up question, so even though she could feel Kyle watching them curiously, and she was really freaking anxious at the moment, she bit one out with a smile. “How’s married life treating you?”

Tiffany rested her silvery-blonde bob against her husband’s chest. “Can’t complain. I think I’ll keep this big lug.”

“Sweet. Have fun, you two!”

Andy turned to leave with Kyle.

Tiffany’s big lug of a husband decided to open his trap.

“That the autistic chick you used to live with, babe?”

Andy cringed.

“Mario, really!” Tiffany chided the man. “It’s not autistic. It’sperson with autism!”

Either was fine. Just not shouted for an entire dance floor of couples to hear.

Andy’s eyes closed, face burning as she sucked in a breath. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, she told herself. Maybe no one heard over the sappy love song playing. But when she opened her eyes, and her gaze fluttered up to meet Kyle’s riveted one, she knew at least one person had heard.

Andy let go of his arm with an embarrassed whimper and darted for the first opening in the crowd she could find.

Chapter twenty-five

“Andy!”

She heard Kyle call her name but didn’t stop running. A bouncer was now parked at the VIP entrance. Noticing her distress — and his boss coming up behind her — the man immediately opened the door. Andy raced up the stairs.

“Andy, it’s okay,” she heard Kyle say behind her.

She made it to Pit One, ducked inside, and turned on him. “N-no,” she sputtered. “Itsoisn’t okay!”

He looked at her stricken face and nodded. “Would you like me to sit with you in there?” She pushed the button, and the door whooshed closed in his face. “I’m gonna take that as a no.”

Alone in the booth, she burst into tears.

“Shit,” Kyle swore. “Andy, tell me what I can do for you right now.”

“I n-need a m-m-minute.”

“Of course. I’ll be right out here.” A chair scraped the floor outside the booth as she sank onto the bench inside it.

Ripping open a pack of earplugs with shaking fingers, Andy shoved the foam buds into her ears to dull the noise of the music firing up below. Though the high walls and thick padding in the booth did a pretty good job of dampening it as well.

Curling up on the bench, she cried. For how long, she did not know, but it was probably a lot longer than a minute. Eventually, though — drained of all the tears and big emotions inside her — she quieted.

The door to the booth whooshed back open. She couldn’t see Kyle, but his arm swung up from the side to wave at her. “Still here,” she thought she heard him say.

Andy took out an earplug.

“Alright if we keep this open now? I won’t come in unless you want me to.”

Sniffling and digging around in her hair for the pokey pin, she didn’t respond.

“Andy?”

“What?”

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