for, liar

Chapter 32

I don't know what I was expecting him to say. A small part of me hoped it was something important, I guess. Once again, I feel like I'm making way too big of a deal out of things. I push my annoying thoughts aside for the drive home, drowning them out by listening to my Spotify playlist.

Maddy's car is parked right in front of the door. It hasn't moved all day. I could've sworn she had to work today.

I push the door open and drag all of my work stuff inside. I look around the apartment to see if Maddy is in plain view. When I'm unable to spot her right away, I assume she's just in her room. I need to decide if now would be the right time to talk to her and mend things.

Her bedroom door is closed. I knock gently on it and get no answer.

"Maddy? Are you here?"

I don't want to wake her up if she's sleeping, so I don't speak too loud. She still doesn't answer. I'm getting a little antsy now. I push open the door and poke my head in her room. It's empty.

She probably left with Damian. She usually tells me if she's leaving. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and call her. After a few rings, it goes to voicemail. I groan angrily and wait for the beep.

"Hey...it's me. Just wanted to see where you were. Making sure you're okay. Alright, call me. Bye."

Leaving a voicemail is awkward. I hope she still isn't too mad at me.

I'm left alone with my thoughts again while I shower. My speaker is turned up on the highest setting. This is the only right way to clean yourself. It's not too horrible that Maddy isn't here because I can play my sad songs playlist that she despises. Maddy refuses to listen to any sad music unless it's Taylor Swift. She says it puts her in a bad mood that she won't be able to get out of for hours.

Sad music always calms me. Even if I'm not currently going through anything at the moment, it makes me feel grateful to not be sad. Then when I am sad, it helps me feel better because I know that everyone goes through the same shit at some point and we can all relate to each other through those mutual experiences. It definitely helps me relate to the artist in certain aspects.

I could go on and on about music. From a psych major's perspective, music plays an enormous part in moods and therapy sessions. It's especially beautiful to watch the effects it has on people who are hurting.

Once I'm finished with my never ending shower, I put on my pajamas and get settled in bed. I scroll through Netflix for a few minutes to find something to watch, but have no luck. There are plenty of options unless I'm in the mood that I am now, because nothing looks enjoyable right now.

Maybe coming home at seven was a bad idea. I don't work tomorrow so I don't plan on going to bed any time soon. If Maddy was here we would probably play a few rounds of UNO, make a huge bowl of popcorn with peanut M&M's, and binge watch a few episodes of Grey's Anatomy that we've already seen thirty times.

Ugh. I have to apologize.

I hastily get up and slide on my tennis shoes. There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep tonight without reconciling with my best friend. I just can't.

I hate that this has been such a recurring thing ever since we moved in together. We do fight like sisters, but lately we've been fighting more than sisters if that's even possible.

I run out to my car and get in, waiting for her location to load. She's at the bar. I hope she's at least with Damian since her car is here. Unless she took an Uber so she could get shitfaced. That sounds more like her.

As I'm halfway there, I realize I probably should have changed into actual clothes instead of staying in ugly lumberjack plaid pants and a black tank top. At least I put on actual shoes instead of sliding on my polar bear slippers my mom got me for Christmas last year. Those would be ten times more embarrassing.

The lot is so full when I finally arrive that I have to park behind the building. I quickly get out and run around to the door. A few people side eye me as I make my way through the crowd in the front of the building. The music is insanely loud and there's people everywhere.

Why is this place busy on a Wednesday night? Don't these people have work in the morning?

"You do have nice arms!" I hear a girl yell over the music.

I could pick out Maddy's slurred speech anywhere by now. I push through a group of guys near the side of the bar and walk over to the billiard tables. Maddy is leaning against the one in the back corner talking to a guy holding a pool stick who is definitely not Damian. I need to be calm or she's not going to talk to me.

I make my way over to her and before I'm able to say anything, her eyes find mine and widen. She has a beer in one hand and her phone in the other. The guy catches her glance and looks over at me as well.

"Nice pants." He says and winks at me.

Ew. I ignore him and cross my arms. "Maddy, we need to talk." I say.

She rolls her eyes and hands her beer to the older man. "I'll be right back." She mumbles and walks over to me.

I take her by the wrist and lead her out the back door exit to the parking lot.

"Are you here to yell at me?" She slurs and yanks her arm from my grip when we're outside.

"I wasn't, but I sure would like to know what exactly the fuck you're doing."

She leans up against the brick wall and lets out a long sigh. "I came to get a few drinks and play pool. Is that okay with you, mom?"

"Why is your car at the apartment? How did you get here?" I ask.

"I got a ride with friends. Would you rather me drive after I've been drinking?"

I'd rather her not be drinking at all when she has to work tomorrow morning. She knows she needs at least nine hours of sleep to function well enough to work.

"No, I guess not. You could've asked me. I would've given you a ride." I say.

"We weren't exactly on speaking terms since yesterday, in case you forgot." She spits and turns her head away from me.

"And I came here to fix that. I don't want to fight. We're being stupid."

"We? You're the one acting like a fucking child over me asking you about your boyfriend. Then you go and call me a slut!"

"I didn't call you a slut!" I fire back.

"You might as well have! You said I jump in bed with every guy I see!"

"Because that's how you act! What do you expect people to think when you're with a different guy every damn week? What do you expect me to think when I come looking for you and you're drunk, playing pool with some guy who isn't your fucking boyfriend!"

"WE BROKE UP!" She screams at me.

Fuck. I have officially became the worst best friend on the planet.

Revised;