Mr. Mafia Man

Chapter XVII: The Confrontation

For the next three days after the ball, I was floating on air. Typically, I would say that I felt high, but I now know what that feels like, and I do not like it. I kept reliving the moment of the kisses in my mind over and over again, and which each replay they inexplicably got better.

But as time dragged by, it became harder for me to remember exactly the chain of events that transpired. As much as I hated to admit it, I wanted to kiss Nicolas again more than anything else in the world. Yet as more and more days passed without a text, I became more and more depressed. Even taking myself out for ice cream didn't help, which made me even more depressed. If a girl can't enjoy ice cream, what can she enjoy?

Classes sucked as usual, but luckily there was no tests or quizzes, which meant that the universe was acknowledging that my life sucked right now, and was trying to lighten the load.

Nicolas still hadn't texted me by the end of the week so I did the only thing that I knew to do in times of crisis: I went to church. I know, it's really lame, but the church always has some sort of sermon going on that I can relate to my life in a twisted way, that they almost certainly did not want me getting from the sermon. And this time it was no different.

As I sat in the back of the pew listening to the assistant pastor talk about what was going on at the church that week, a body slammed into the seat beside me. I try to ignore them until I hear quiet sobs coming from said body. I turn to see who the fuck is crying in this church and lo and behold it was a very attractive woman in full slut attire, black pumps and all, ugly sobbing with makeup running down her face. Her hair was falling out of her updo, and she just looked like a mess in general. My kind of person.

I scooted down the pew a little bit and threw my arm around her hunched form. The congregation stood up to sing at this point, so we had relative privacy.

"Fuck him, you know?" The woman, completely unprompted started speaking to me. "I fucking trust him for one goddamned second and what does he do? Completely stab me in the back!" I nod along, not knowing what she is talking about. "Hump and dump is all he does, and I somehow thought that I would be different? I'm a fool." The woman slides back in the pew and looks up at the high ceiling of the church while blotting her eyes with a handkerchief. She turns to look at me. "Don't ever let a man take you for granted. You know your fucking worth, don't let him make you second guess that. I don't care who he is, he's not worth the trouble."

Suddenly it dawns on me; she's fucking right. "Nicolas isn't shit." I whisper, finally realising, more to myself than anyone else.

The woman frowns, and stops crying. "Actually, his name is Matt, but you've got the right idea."

"Well, Matt isn't shit either."

"You got man problems?"

"Don't we all?"

The woman sits up and manages to smile through the residual tears. "Give him hell, girl. Fuck his life up."

"I'm gonna fuck his life up." I say, gradually realizing that

"That's the spirit!" The woman gives me a fist bump before she gets a call on her phone, and leaves the auditorium. I consider what she said while the congregation wraps up their singing and the pastor starts preaching about confronting those who sin against you.

Not thirty minutes later, I'm bursting into the apartment after leaving church early. Tiffany isn't awake so I quickly shake her to semi-consciousness. Once her eyes can focus on me and she's responding to her name, I ask her my burning question. "Where does Nicolas live?"

"Huh?"

"Where does Nicolas live?" I know she knows where he lives, because as she has admitted to me before, when she was drunk, and that Nicolas has confirmed, Nicolas and Alexander live together. Seeing as she was able to go confront Alexander at this house, I see no reason why I can't do the same.