Beneath the Surface by Emily McIntire
Lily
Idon’t know how Annabelle talked me into coming out. All I know is that it’s Friday night, and instead of being home cuddled up with my baby boy, I’m in downtown Phoenix, cuddled up to strangers.
I’m uncomfortable.
There’s a reason why I don’t go out anymore. I’ve found that it’s much easier to avoid temptation if I don’t place myself in front of it. But it’s been almost four years, and I convince myself that one night out won’t hurt. Even though I told Alex I didn’t need them, the truth is that I’m desperate for some friends, no matter how much I try to fool myself into believing I’m not. And Annabelle is as good as it gets in this new life of mine.
“Have I told you how fantastic you look?” she asks from across the high-top table, her eyes trailing my body. A grin creeps on my face, not because she’s looking, but because it’s been so long since I’ve had anywhere to dress up for, and I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it.
I remember being at the last foster home—before my parents, Sam and Anna, adopted us—stealing Fashion Weeklys off the coffee table and hiding them under my bed. Whenever I needed an escape, I’d drag those magazines out, staring at the fabrics and dreaming of a different life. One where I could be the name gracing the labels, so important and powerful that nobody could ever take advantage of me again.
But amazing things belong to amazing people. And I’ve never fit that mold.
Shaking out of my reverie, I glance around, taking in the bar. I won’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good to get out of the house for something other than work. As much as I miss Chase, I know he’s in good hands with Susan, and it’s been years since I’ve had a night out. My soul aches for the socialization.
I used to be the life of the party, getting high off the buzz from the crowds and snorting lines in the bathrooms. Back then, I had to sneak away, because no one knew what I was doing.
Of course they didn’t.
Even when I’ve tried so hard to be seen, I’ve always been invisible.
But then Darryl came along, and he showed me a way to feel better. A way to make my festering insides match my sparkly outside.
And I was so tired of faking it.
Neither of my best friends, Alina May or Rebecca Jean, would have gotten it. The most they did was steal sips of liquor from Becca’s mom’s hidden cabinet. And Chase definitely wouldn’t have. He’s always been against drugs, ever since we were thrown into the foster system and left to rot.
And rot I did. A pretty shell with a hollow center, mold growing from the inside out.
But unlike my brother, instead of cringing away from it, I leaned into it. After all, it must have been something special to make our mom choose it over us, and I was desperate for something to numb the memories.
Chase’s biggest demon was living with our mother.
Mine was after she left.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Annabelle’s friend, Natalie, asks.
I shake my head, pushing the thoughts down deep and pulling up the husk of happiness that I’ve worn my whole life.
“Nothing.” I smile, shaking my head. “It’s just been a while since I’ve been out.”
Annabelle squeals as she looks toward the front door, her face breaking into a beaming smile. “He made it!”
Her eyes sparkle with excitement, a blush skimming over her cheekbones. I’m about to open my mouth and ask who made it, but heat trickles down my back, making the words stick in my throat. There’s only ever been one person that makes the air shift just by being in it, and I haven’t seen him in three days.
I assumed he was gone.
Annabelle’s grin widens as he approaches the table, and she stands up, practically jumping in the air to throw herself around Alex’s body. “You’re here!”
The hairs on my arms stand straight, my stomach roiling with an unfamiliar sensation. He’s loosely wrapped around Annabelle like decoration—a garland of color and art swirling over his veiny hands, disappearing under the sleeves of his long-sleeved Henley. But his dark gaze is on me.
My chest pulls, but I shake it off, smirking. “Well, hi there, friend.”
He releases Annabelle, sitting down, his long legs taking up all of the empty space left under the table. “Hey, little bird.”
My nose scrunches. “Little bird?”
He doesn’t respond, only grins.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” I continue. “I thought you were gone.”
His eyes spark. “Is that how you see me? As someone who would leave without saying goodbye?”
My stomach flips, my heart cinching tight. “I don’t know what you seem like. We’re strangers, remember?”
He tsks, a smirk pulling up the left side of his face. “You just called us friends. You can’t take that back.”
My brow quirks. “Says who?”
“So, you two clearly know each other,” Natalie interrupts. “I’m Natalie, by the way.”
He gives her a chin nod, and Annabelle forces a laugh. My eyes volley between them as her hand presses against his forearm. “He was planning to leave, but I convinced him to stick around a while.”
I ignore the sudden pinch in my chest and force a laugh. “You’ve always been a good salesman.”
Alex clears his throat and shifts, his calf brushing mine just slightly under the table. Electricity races up my leg.
I sip from my water. “It’s a good thing you started showing up to our diner then, huh, Alex?”
“It definitely is.” Annabelle’s fingers tighten on his arm as she looks up at him adoringly. “Thanks for coming out, I didn’t know if you would.”
He shrugs. “Had some business in Phoenix this weekend, anyway.”
My eyebrows draw in as I wonder what he does for a living. As I wonder, for the thousandth time since he walked into my restaurant and sat down in my booth, why he’s here.
Annabelle leans in, whispering something in his ear that makes him grin, and I force my eyes away, not sure why the image of them together makes nausea churn in my gut.
Natalie smirks as she watches me from across the table. “Wanna go grab some drinks at the bar?”
My heart pounds faster against my ribs, and my hands grow clammy. “Oh, I don’t drink.”
Her smile falters. “What? Like… not at all?”
Gulping down air, I suck my teeth. “Not at all.”
And this is the other reason I don’t ever go out. Because I don’t particularly like being put into situations like this, where people expect me to cave in to societal norms. To live and breathe the pastime that gives them a simple night of fun, yet leaves me teetering on the edge of a crumbling cliff.
“Oh well that’s… boring.” She frowns.
The smile on my face grows as I push down the ache that’s splitting my chest. I shouldn’t have come tonight.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair and sitting up straighter. “I like to think that I’m a naturally fun person.”
She makes a face, but doesn’t try to keep the conversation going, and a sour feeling swirls in my stomach. This is awkward. I haven’t people’d in a long time, and where I used to be a natural, now it just feels… forced.
Maybe I’m just out of practice.
“You don’t drink?” Annabelle asks.
I shake my head. “Nope, not for years.”
“How come?” She tilts her head.
My fingers scratch at my wrist.
“Who cares?” Alex cuts in. “I don’t drink either.”
My breath whooshes out, and Annabelle’s head snaps to him. “What?”
His brow rises. “Is that a problem?”
“N-no,” she stutters. “I just assumed, I guess. Most people do, and—”
“So because most do that means everyone should?” he presses.
A warmth unfurls through my chest, and I soak him in greedily while his gaze is stuck on her.
He definitely looks like a drinker, but I learned a long time ago that first impressions never tell the true story. Curiosity over what his story is wraps around my edges.
Annabelle shakes her head. “No, I—”
“Why the hell would you two come to a bar on a Friday night if neither of you drink?” Natalie cuts in.
“Because we were invited,” I say. “And like I said… I’m the life of the party. Who wouldn’t want me here?” I wink, trying to avoid the heat of Alex’s stare, but my eyes are drawn back to him anyway.
He didn’t have to speak up when he did, and maybe it’s a coincidence, but I can’t help feeling like he was trying to make things more comfortable for me. Pinpricks of energy lance off my skin and race down my spine as I hold his gaze. It’s uncomfortable, and I want to look away but… I can’t.
Turns out, I don’t need to.
Because he does.
And then his big hand reaches out, the lights bouncing off his jewelry as he grips Annabelle’s upper thigh. Just like that, all the electricity is zapped from my body, and I’m left feeling cold, and wanting to go home.