Sweet bitter

Chapter one

1. Maybe an orgasm?

  I rest my elbows on the bar, turning the phone to the correct position. The heels kill my feet, making me feel hotter and hotter, and my friends have fun with a strand of my messy hair.

 "I'm not drunk," I say, despite the fact that my tongue feels quite heavy.

 And that's really true. Even though my head is a little dizzy, I'm aware of everything around me. I'm aware of their indifference and the anger I still feel after the disastrous separation from Dylan.

 I didn't make war or anything like that.  On the contrary - it was a slow, cold and painful separation, which he was waiting to. I didn't dream with open eyes, that I would marry him and we would have children together;  but I hoped we could get over the heavier things just as united.

 Looks like it was just me. Because, for him, there was something better, which I could never be. I don't have any proof, but I know it. I know her, I knew her and I felt her. And I'm not even going to blame that girl for a second.

 As for Dylan, I kind of destroyed his car.

 "I'm not stupid," Olivia added, interrupting my dark thoughts.

 An evening that was meant to be fun, turns into one of frustration and revenge, when she decides to turn her glass of whiskey over her head, after which she grimaces particularly funny.  I didn't go to that. I didn't have that much courage.

 „In your case, the sarcasm is not valid”, I try to fix my gaze on her.

 Her forehead is sweaty and her lips are quite dry. For some rich girls, you wouldn't say that the image of drunkard girls suffering from love suits us. With slightly different stories and unexpected ways. At least from Olivia, who always considers herself the kind of more calculated person.

 "It's yours," Victoria warns me, arching an eyebrow.

 I feel the need to contradict her, but I lose my gaze somewhere on the phone screen, seeing a new post on the heartbreaker profile - suddenly, the idea of ​​drinking a little whiskey doesn't seem so bad anymore, although it really should  I abstain.

 "I only drank two and a half glasses of wine."  That's not the case.

 It's much worse. And how could I tell them that I was a fake liar and I didn't block him, at least, after the nights I made their days a freaking hell, not wanting to leave the house? A little secret, it won't disturb my life so much.  Not if I continue to follow him from the shadows, reassuring me not to blame him in the comments section.

 "You should have sex instead of drinking," One of them laughs.

 I really don't have the energy to figure out which one.

 And it doesn't take long for things to get worse than in a sex game.

 It was a bad idea for all of us to agree to get out of the house where Brittany has her party. Through a very unfortunate event for Olivia, a not very dear person got in her way;  and now it feels as if two dogs - a pomeranian and a bichon - are struggling exhaustingly to temper a doberman dog.

 "I swear I'll strangle that bastard!"

 And I swear I won't last long. My nail almost came off, and Victoria seems to give in to the temptation to give Olivia a free rein. Sometimes I get the impression that I'm never really taken into account because of my polymorphic personality.