Page 69 of Prove You Wrong

Nate

What kind of cluster fuck is happening here? Just when one minor catastrophe is averted, another turns up. I don’t really know Josie, but she’s clearly upset by something.

Pushing through the crowd after her friend, Ella heads to the exit, and I know I won’t see her again tonight. Her friend needs her, so of course she’ll help her. That’s the kind of person she is, she puts everyone else first.

The trouble is, the kind of person Ella thinksIam is not particularly complimentary. But I’m working on it. Trying to gain her trust, I’m being open and honest with her. Risking her disapproval by sharing my past is scary as hell, but I’m hoping it’s the right thing to do. And I guess, as long as she keeps showing up, I can keep trying.

I’m not sure why I’m so adamant to prove her wrong about me, but here I am — stone cold sober in a club, spilling my past, trying to show her my present self –– mind racing to think of all the different ways I can convince her.

Shit. Now my plan for later tonight — theultimate trust fall— is fucked.

The reasonable voice in my head knows her leaving to help her friend was the right thing to do. Wanting her to stay would’ve been selfish. But I can’t say I’m not disappointed.

I just fucking hope I get another chance.

Lingering over the dregs of my beer, I pull my phone from my pocket, and send her a text.

Nate: I know you’re busy with Josie but let me know you get home OK.

My phone flashes with her response.

Ella: Sorry I didn’t say a proper goodbye. I’m heading home with Josie. Thanks for a good night.

It hadn’t been agoodnight. It had beenfucking perfect,until it wasn’t.

I want a do-over. To give Ella a night that’s not marred with misunderstandings and upset friends. I type out another message.

Nate: We’ve got unfinished business. Can I see you tomorrow?

Ella: I can’t tomorrow. Have to work on a report, plus Chloe needs me to take her badminton training.

Consciously, I try to relax my grasp on my bottle as I reread the message.

Is she giving me the brush off? Heart in my mouth, I ping off another text. Scott would be appalled with how uncool I’m playing this. Apparently I’m channelling Chunk.

Nate: Brunch on Saturday?

Ella: Is that the most trustworthy thing you can think of?

Nate: You’ll trust me by the end. Promise ;)

Ella

‘Josie, wait.’ I catch up to my friend and she looks at me with panda eyes.

‘Let’s get out of here, but I need to grab my blazer first.’ I guide Josie over to the cloakroom.

She keeps mumbling sorry as we wait in the queue of people grabbing their coats.

‘It’s honestly fine,’ I promise her. ‘This is why you called earlier, isn’t it? And I just babbled on about my problems. I’m so sorry. Are you going to tell me what’s up?’

She sniffs and looks around. ‘Not here.’

Retrieving my jacket, we link arms and head to the exit.

Pushing the door open into the bitter night air, she glances down as I teeter on the steps. ‘Ugh, you wore fuck-me heels.’

Smirking, I say, ‘I did wear my smart office apparel that gives me height advantage and a confidence boost, yes.’

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