I tilt my head toward her. “Ez and I are going to leave. We both don’t want to be here. We can pick you up when the club closes,” I say, finishing the last sip of my drink.
Zay shoves Ez’s shoulder playfully. “Come on, man. Lighten up.”
He’s sounding like Rya. Why are both of them so adamant about clubbing again? They’re both clinging to the past while Ez and I are trying to move forward. I used to love nights like this, dancing until my feet hurt. Singing the lyrics to every song, moving my body to the rhythm of the music. But now I have my business to worry about. I can’t wake up hung over on the weekends anymore and I don’t recover as fast as I used to. Plus, these crowds make me feel so suffocated now.
Ez doesn’t flinch and stands up. “We’ll be back to pick you guys up.”
I set my cup onto the table, scoot closer to Zay and kiss him.
Rya throws her hands up and scoffs. “Why come if you’re going to bail?” she says in a sharp tone.
I glance between her and Zay. “Why are you guys wanting to club a lot? We’ve been through this phase.”
Zay smirks. “Because it’s fun, babe. You used to like it.”
I let out a sigh and stand. “You guys have fun. Text me when you’re ready to leave.” Rya’s face is tight with annoyance. Ez leans in for a kiss and she backs away with a frown.
“Babe. Come on,” Ez says. “Go have fun with Zay.”
She rolls her eyes and kisses him back.
We both walk out faster than we did to walk in, like we’re counting the seconds until we hit the outside.
I inhale the fresh air once we step outside. Leaving the tension behind in the club. My heels click against the cement sidewalk as we walk toward Ezra’s car. It’s only midnight, so we probably have about two hours before the others want to leave. I regret not driving separately. Taking this skintight dress off and rolling up into my covers sounds good right about now.
“Where should we go?” I ask Ez.
The beep of his truck echoes through the underground parking garage. “You down for some tacos?”
“Hell yeah,” I say, and we both speed up our steps.
We slid into the truck. As soon as he starts the engine, the music blares through the speakers, causing me to jump. I forgot how loud we were listening to the music on our way over here. Or I should say, how loud Rya had the music on.
He pulls out of the parking garage and heads for the street that always has food trucks.
A couple of lights shine up ahead, hanging from the truck. This taco truck was our go-to after getting the drunk munchies from dancing all night. They are the best authentic tacos around. Nothing compares.
There are only a couple of people in line, which is nice. Everyone comes here after the club, and we always have to wait in line forever. There’s another positive about not partying all night. I doubt Rya and Zay would even care if I rubbed it in their face.
Ez comes around the truck just as I slide out, my heels clinking to the ground. He holds up his hand for me to hold on to him. “I don’t know how girls wear those things. They look painful,” he says, staring down at my feet.
“Beauty is pain.” I giggle.
“And you girls love to be in pain,” he says, shaking his head.
I howl in laughter.
After ordering, we walk back to the truck. Ez holds my tacos while I lift myself in, grabbing the tacos after I get myself seated. He comes around and jumps into his truck like nothing. And I’m over here bracing myself as I struggle to get my five-foot figure in.
People have always asked me if I enjoy being short. I’ve always loved it. My height never bothers me. I’ve heard it bothers some girls. But I think being little is cute. And as a bonus, I can wear as high of heels as I want and not worry about being taller than my husband.
I’ve always liked tall men, too. Well, Zays is the only man I ever dated. In high school, no one tried to date us because they always thought one of us was with the other. I mostly got told I was dating Ez, which didn’t seem so far off. We got pretty close our senior year of high school. Until that night at the graduation party. It’s like things shifted for us. We’re still really close, but it just never felt the same. There were so many unspoken words that lingered every time I was around him. Weeks after all that happened, I always wanted to ask him how he felt about me. But then again, I felt dumb to ask after hooking up with Zay. I finally got the courage to ask Rya if she ever asked him about me. I’mnot sure why it took me weeks to ask her. It was almost like I was worried of rejection even though seeing them two together in bed felt like the biggest rejection of all.
Rya sits with her knees up to her chest on my floor as she paints her toenails white. When summer hits, we always paint our toes once a week. We both have so many nail polishes we’ve been collecting. It’s always so hard for us to choose what color to use next. Then every time we go to the store, we always have to get the newest shade.
I sit across from her, biting my tongue as I swipe the brush against my nail. Just ask her, I say to myself repeatedly, until finally I blurt it out. “What happened between you and Ezra?” I ask sternly. More sternly than I expected it to come out.
She avoids eye contact with me for a few seconds before putting the brush back into the bottle. She raises her head, but her eyes are soft and overshadowed by something hidden underneath. “I was hoping you wouldn’t bring it up.”
