The Fallen Angel

Chapter VII

I had gone to Sarah's house that Friday night. She claimed–or rather insisted–that we were in desperate need of a girl's night. Her house was enormous, located in the richer part of town. Everything was modern and clean and I had never been so jealous of someone's kitchen before. Her parents were out of town for business, so it was only the two of us and her dog Max, alone in the big house.

"Wine or Tequila?" she held up two bottles.

"Neither," I shook my head.

"Come on honey, you need it." She poured tequila in two shot glasses and sat on the couch, next to me.

"I still can't believe you went through that, poor thing," she handed me the small glass and I downed it, making my face pucker.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Right, sorry," she gave me a sympathetic smile. "But did you see him? I mean you must've been so scared. I heard that they didn't even find him yet, how crazy is that?" she went on and I smiled. Once she noticed her mouth was still going, she stopped mid-sentence and looked down. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"That's fine," I laugh.

"You definitely need another one of these," she grabbed my glass and headed back to the kitchen.

"By the way," I heard her search through bottles in her parent's alcohol cabinet. "Did you have a chance to speak to Nathan? Because I'm pretty sure he's been avoiding me."

A ball rises up in my throat. "No I haven't seen him," I lied.

"That's fine," she joined me again and turned on the television, placing the cups on the glass coffe table. "I just don't understand what's gotten into him lately. But, frankly, he's never really opened up to me anyway. Did you know we've been going out for over five months and I still haven't met his parents?" she ranted, which made me wonder if he even did have parents. There were so many things I needed to ask him.

"People go at different speeds," I shrugged.

"I understand that, but he's on a whole other level of slow. I mean, we haven't even had sex yet," she whispered the last part and I stared at her.

"Maybe he's waiting 'till marriage?" I laughed and she groaned, hiding her face in the pillow.

"The only steamy thing we've ever done is make out in the back of his car," she slumped down onto the couch in despair. She leaned over and took her glass, downing it before I had time to blink. She shook her head and scrunched her face at the bitter taste and went back to the same position she was in before.

"Want to watch Dance Moms?" she flipped through channels and turned to me.

"You watch that too?" I laughed. I thought I was the only one.

"It's like my religion," she smiled. I bundled up in a blanket and we watched it quietly, Sarah passing a comment ever few minutes. It was honestly the most fun I had had since I moved. It was a nice distraction from everything else.

We were halfway through the show when her dog began to bark in the front entrance. I looked back a few times, watching his tale wag, but from where I was sitting, I couldn't see the door.

"Were you expecting someone?" I turned to her.

"No, he's probably just barking at a car," her eyes stayed glued to the television. It was stupid of me to worry so much, but I couldn't help it. Every little thing made me expect the worst. Her dog continued to bark, taking a few brief pauses before starting again. 

"Max," she shouted, but he went on. She got up and grabbed him, bringing him back to the couch. Clutched in her arms, he continued to bark and thrash.