Devoid [Bruno Mars]

Chapter ten

Chapter ten

I felt detached from the Adrian that wasted time on thoughts and stupid apologies. Like a wire had been cut, making me feel an I-don't-give-a-shit-anymore type of way. I wanted to do and say without my mind intruding with hesitance. Jamie was entering the hallway while I was exiting. Her face contorted into anger as she stomped towards me. “You bitch. You midget ass—”

I let my eyes widen, putting my hands up in a surrender. “Oh don't waste any time on me, honey. Your man is in dire need of you.”

She hesitated, then with a sneer, “This won't be the last time you see me, damn whore.” She stalked past me. The snarl on her face made her ugly, and the idea to laugh in her face while telling her Bruno doesn't even love you was tempting, but she was already gone.

Brook and Michelle were speaking excitedly amongst themselves, oblivious to my oncoming presence. I slammed my palms on the table, making them jump. “We're leaving.”

“No we're not.” Michelle frowned, attitude dripped in her voice. “Our food just got here and you didn't even touch yours.”

I dug in my bag and placed a bill on the table. “I paid. Now can we just go?”

Brook's voice was soft as her eyes scanned my face. “What's wrong?”

“Please,” I whispered, hoping they didn't catch the slight tremble in my voice. Why couldn't they just listen? Finally, they stood at the same time. Once we were at the Tank I lost it. I put my back against the truck and covered my face with my hands.

“Oh God, Adrian? Are you crying?” It was Brook, and she tried peeling my hands from my face. I let her, tasting salt on lips. Anger tears. “You and Michelle—you're always. . . together in a way that doesn't include me and, I don't know, I just feel like the shitty third friend, who just tags along.” I wished I would stop crying, wished my voice would stop shaking. It was one of the worse feelings in the world. Being around friends and feeling as if you're an outsider among them, looking into their sphere of belonging longingly.

And, even though well-concealed, Jamie's words had stung. 

“What?” Brook sought to comfort me. “Oh, no, sweetie, we just thought you loved your solitude—I should have realized, God, I'm so stupid. You're far from crappy, Adrian. You're one of the best people I've ever met. Funny, trustworthy, kind. . . sexy!”

She seemed genuine. But it didn't make me feel better—wasn't that what friends were supposed to say? Michelle stared at me, silent. “I know what you're thinking,” I said to her, voice cracking. “That I'm weak, I know.”

She shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. “You are sort of kind of all those things Brook said.”

“Thanks,” I muttered sarcastically, laughed all brokenly, shoulders shuddering. The moon was high in the sky, the city lights making the stars invincible.

I told them I loved them. Because I really did.

Brook enveloped me in a hug. And there was a reassurance in it that I really needed. We slung our arms around Michelle, dragging her in. She groaned exaggeratedly but returned our embrace. I had a feeling that, deep down, Michelle was in need of solacing arms. “I love you girls,” Brook mumbled.

Michelle rolled her eyes. “I guess you babes are lovable.” And then we were just three people in the middle of a parking lot feeling the power of friendship. It was zipping through us, a good electrfying feeling. Michelle called it off, demanding we cease the mushiness. She said she had a surprise waiting for us at the hotel.