The Pinkyswear

Chapter 2

             "I saw you leaving with that someone last night, you bad girl. He was damn hot," my best friend Liz muttered jealously beside me, as we were jogging by the side of the road.

       It was good for the hangover. Or so Liz believed. I didn't.

She believed a cup of green tea and a jog at 9 AM would totally cure a bad hangover. I didn't really think so, but I really needed to get out of my classy, small apartment. After all that had happened last night.

            What?

Liz was the barista from the bar; the pretty one – one of the reason why I had the guts to actually go to the bar at a Saturday night.

            Alone.

I hadn't really been more single than I had been last night; praying on the inside for someone to come over to me. I wasn't really desperate, I just needed for someone else than my best friend to notice me.

       Wow, that sounded pretty desperate actually.

Either way, I decided I was going to visit my lovely friend at work, in my red dress and red lipstick. My hair wasn't curled though, so I wasn't really that overdressed and I wouldn't say I was trying to get the attention or any attention.

        So I had just been sitting there, talking to my best friend between here filling up glasses and taking orders by the counter, and sipped on my bitter cosmopolitan. Then he'd come along, and the alcohol took over for my nervousness.

Not saying a word about him, I plumped down on a bench by the side of the road, ignoring my runaway best friend. No, I hadn't the time or voice to tell her I was stopping.

          Unfortunately, she was blind. Not really blind-blind, but really not that observant when we were talking about noticing when her jogging buddy was slowly dying.

We all got that one friend. She was the sporty one of us, but I had the curviest body. We were both jealous of each other, but that was just our friendship. Our friendship was ten years old, and jealousy hadn't brought us down ever.

          "Nothing happened," I shouted after her, when I had gotten some of my voice back, while wiping the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand.

          Disgusting, I thought quietly to myself, before looking up again after her.

Then I waited for her to realise that I had stopped, and after some seconds she did. It seemed like she was a little bit unsure whether to jog back to me, as she stood with her hands on her hips just looking at me for a minute.

              I just loved that girl.

She turned her back against me, and started jogging backwards. Somehow I still caught her words.

          "Why'd you stop?" she questioned me and sat down beside me – none sweaty, looking like she had just gotten out of the door; we had been jogging for an hour already.

                   I was so jealous of her.

"Because, unlike you, some of us can't talk while jogging," I laughed, almost not having any voice left to speak.

Trust me; I was in quite good shape, but my hangover wasn't really helping on my mood or my jogging. Rather stopping me from holding myself up and actually continuing.

           Why did I drink at all last night? Yeah, because of the conversation with my adoptive parents. Adoptive parents. I still hadn't told Liz about it. I should, shouldn't I?