Sophia is listening to another one of Charlie’s weird tangents about the Vietnam War, which he’s been hyperfixated on since he watchedFull Metal Jacketlast year. I pretend to listen as I track Connie’s whereabouts around the restaurant.
“Wait, where you going?” Charlie squawks when he sees me stand up. “I haven’t gotten to the best part yet!”
“I’ll live.” I give him a condescending pat on the head, my eyes still on Connie, and his teeth narrowly miss my hand.
I see Ozzy near the bar with James and avoid their line of sight, not wanting to be pulled into a conversation. As inconspicuously as I can, I move to stand near the swinging kitchen doors, Connie just a few feet away.
She’s facing me, talking to someone whose name I didn’t bother remembering. Her eyes flick to me, then back to her friend. I try not to feel awkward just standing there, leaning against a table as casually as possible while my heart is racing.
I’m such a fucking idiot.
I’m about to bolt when I see Connie move away from her friend and slowly strut my way. I notice her quick glance toward James as if double-checking that we’re not being watched. My stomach twists into a knot at the implication.
“Hey,” she says softly.
“Hey,” I croak back, swiping a hand over my buzzed head before rubbing the back of my neck.
She studies me for a second, the music drowning us in bass, before curling a finger around the belt loop of my jeans and giving it a short tug. It’s quick, and her hand is off me just as fast, but I feel like I’m toppling over the edge of reason.
She smiles, her tongue pushing into her cheek.
“Follow me?”
My throat tightens, and I lose the ability to speak.
I swallow hard, my gaze locked with hers, and nod.
3
CONNIE
Fourteen Months Later
Ican feel my blood pressure rising the longer I stare at it. My hands clench harder around the few items of groceries I have propped against my chest as I wait in line at the checkout.
I stare at it some more.
Burn a hole right through it.
I’m going to scream.I swear I will.
It’s finally my turn in line. I unceremoniously chuck everything on the conveyor belt and grab the tabloid magazine with as much ire as possible, slamming it beside the organic bananas. I add a pack of orange Tic Tacs to my purchases as an afterthought. The cashier rings up my items, her eyes dipping to the tabloid magazine before setting it to the other side.
“Oliver Campisi,” she chirps in her best Venice Beach vocal fry. “I’ve loved him since I was sixteen and saw him inEternal Hearts.” She smiles. “That’ll be $35.60.”
My blood boils, as I forcefully shove everything into my tote bag, includingfuckingOliver Campisi fromEternalHearts. I tap my card with venomous haste and finally make eye contact with the cashier. My smile is lethally saccharine.
“Just so you know — Oliver Campisi is a piece of shit nepo baby who can’t act to save his life.”—I shove my tote bag on my shoulder—“Oh!” I say a bit brighter. “Not to mention his raging mommy issues.”
My little mic drop moment barely gets a reaction. The cashier stares at me blankly. I want to screech like a banshee but instead snatch the receipt out of her hand and storm out.
I can’t even waittill I get home, the magazine burning a hole in my tote bag. I find a bench facing the ocean and pull the damn thing out. I reread the headline as if it’s not permanently seared into my psyche.
Trouble in paradise?Hollywood heartthrob Oliver Campisi caught sharing stolen kisses withThe Enigmaco-star Harriett Lemmy.
“Fucking egotistical loser,” I grumble under my breath as I flip the pages to find the article. “Two-timing narcissistic cokehead.”
Nothing about this isnewsto me. I discovered Oliver was cheating on me two days ago from aconcerned friendwho I think took more pleasure in telling me the juicy piece of gossip than actually coming from a place of genuine friendship.
