band was playing inside.
Unconsciously I slowed to a stop as we approached the door.
“You okay?” she asked. “You look a little pale.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t do well with crowded places any more.”
“I’ll stay close,” she said.
That ought to help me relax. Yeah, right.
She took my arm, curling herself close to me, and we walked into the bar. She was scanning the crowd, looking for Kelly and boyfriend, whose name I couldn’t recall.
After a few minutes pushing our way through the crowd, we found them sitting at a tall round table with four stools around it.
I froze when I saw the boyfriend.
“Dylan, this is Kelly and Joel. Kelly and Joel, this is Dylan.”
Kelly smiled, a huge grin, and said, “Wow. Dylan, it is so cool to finally get to meet you.”
Joel held out his hand to shake, and said, “Hey man, yeah, it’s good to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much.”
I stared into the face of the man I’d seen in the Skype video. The shirtless guy who had been in Alex’s room the night I broke it off with her for good. I couldn’t breathe, and my eyes darted to Alex, who was starting to look concerned, then I looked back at him and muttered, “Motherfucker.”
I shook my arm free from Alex, turned and pushed my way through the crowd back to the exit.
Um, yeah. I better see a doctor (Alex)
“What the hell?” Kelly asked when Dylan pushed away from us and almost ran for the door.
“I don’t know!” I said, my voice rising into a near wail. What was wrong? What had I done?
“Go after him, Alex. Don’t let him go without an explanation. Not again!”
I was shaking, and breathing fast, shallow breaths. Freaking out. A vision of all those weeks I’d spent in February and March, mostly curled up in my bed, crying.
That son of a bitch was not doing that to me again.
I turned and ran for the door, not caring if they followed.
He was halfway down the block. I ran after him, shouting, “Dylan! Wait!”
I saw his shoulders tense up when he heard me. He stopped walking, his back straight, still turned away from me.
“Dylan! What the hell?” I screamed. “Why did you do that? Why did you walk out like that?”
He turned toward me, and it felt like I’d been punched. His eyes were red and watering, eyebrows scrunched together, making a line down the center of his forehead.
He pointed his finger back at the bar, and shouted, “You know how I feel about you. How the fuck can you bring me here, knowing he was going to be here?”
I flinched at the shout. Never in all the time we’d known each other had he done that. And the question. What? It didn’t make any sense at all. He didn’t even know Joel.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Dylan!”
He shook his head, his face etched in grief. “I thought you were… something else, Alex. I… oh, fucking Christ, I never even imagined this.”
“Imagined what? I don’t understand you at all!”
“ Him! He was in your room that night. Don’t bother to deny it. I saw him! You’re on fucking Skype, breaking up with me on what was already the worst day of my life, and then that fucker comes over, his fat ass shirtless, and puts his hand on you as he walks by. Did you guys laugh it up when you planned the breakup? Were you fucking before you called me?”
It felt like he’d punched me. I backed away two or three steps, then said, “Dylan… that’s Joel. He’s Kelly’s boyfriend.”
“Then why the hell was he there?”
Now I screamed back. “Because he’s her boyfriend, you asshole. He was over all the time, those two are attached at the hip! Are you telling me you broke it off with me because of that? You broke my heart because of a stupid misunderstanding? Because you thought you saw a guy in my room?”
He shook his head.
“He was with Kelly?” he said in a ragged whisper. His face was twisting in grief and anger. Anger with himself? I didn’t understand.
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