* * *
LibraGrl: I hope your toenails fall off…
I’m really warming up here, but I’m also starting to get seriously nauseated. Oh God, vodka, orange juice, and cocoa are not the best combination on an empty stomach. I stagger to the kitchen and open a bag of bread. After pulling out a handful, I shove it into my mouth. I need something to sop up the booze, but I think I’m too late.
On my wild sprint to the bathroom, I trip over an area rug and fall flat on my face. The pressure of hitting the floor is all it takes to trigger the release of my stomach’s contents. I don’t have the strength to pull myself up, yet alone clean up the mess. In fact, I don’t have the strength to do more than lie there and cry.
Luckily, unconsciousness claims me like the Grim Reaper trying to hit his monthly quota. As I pass out, my last thought is that I hope Ben breaks up with Gwen and comes crawling back to me. Damn it, I think I went and fell in love with the guy.
Thirty-Six
Ben
“… as much as I hate to admit it, your rocket scientist here is so much more handsome than Dr. Kwak,” Gwen’s aunt says, grinning back and forth between us.
We’re sitting at a table together, having endured the speeches, and a lengthy dinner interrupted by a tinkling of champagne flutes every thirty seconds for the newly engaged couple to kiss. I thought that was just a wedding tradition, but this family apparently uses it for the engagement too. It’s seriously over the top.
Having been inexplicably dumped exactly thirty-eight hours ago, I’m a little irritated by the sight of happy people right now. I have a long sip of my white wine while Gwen’s aunt drones on about how adorable we are together.
“You’re going to have the cutest babies!”
No. No, we’re not.
“Well, Auntie June, it’s a little early for that kind of talk,” Gwen says with an uncomfortable smile.
June shakes her head vigorously, causing the fake flower clipped into her far-too-dark-for-her-age hair to flop back and forth. “I can tell. You two have a connection, everyone’s talking about it.”
She’s the seventh person to say something similar. What is it with this family? They really want to marry Gwen off. Is it so they can see more PDA-on-demand? Not happening, weirdos.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out as discreetly as I can to check it, my heart pounding. June’s now picking out our best features for our babies, as though it’s possible to put in an order or something. Her eye color, but his eye shape, his chin, her nose … I hate people.
Rapid-fire texts are coming in from Serafina,. My first thought is I’m so relieved she’s okay, and then I see what she wrote. Phoney baloney? She hopes someone gives me a perm? What in the hell is she talking about?
“How come you two aren’t out on the dance floor?” Aunt June asks.
“Good question. Let’s go,” I say, standing quickly and pulling Gwen with me.
The band is playing “The Chicken Dance” (of course), which is my least favorite of all barnyard dances, but in the name of getting away from June, I’m willing to humiliate myself. Gwen and I stand next to each other and flap our arms like birds.
“Great escape plan,” she says.
“Thanks,” I yell over the music. “I thought she’d never stop talking.”
“Oh, she wouldn’t have,” Gwen yells back as we clap our hands four times fast with the rest of the other chickens. After we spin around, Gwen says, “Are you all right? You seem a little quiet today.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. There’s no way I’m going to talk about what happened with her. Even though we’ve agreed to just be friends, it feels wrong. “I’m just not that great with crowds.”
“Are you sure? Because as I might have mentioned before, when I was watching some of your TV appearances, you and that Serafina woman seem to have a real chemistry between you.” We wiggle our way down to a low crouch, then back up. “Did something happen between you two on your trip?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” I fell in love with her.
“Why unfortunately?”
“She’s … not exactly a stable Mable.” As soon as I say it, I feel a smack of guilt for being so unkind. But, it’s true, so…
“That’s too bad,” Gwen says with a look of understanding.
Flapping my arms some more, I reply, “Better to find out early though.”
“Good point.”
I should change the subject. Forget all about her. Maybe get drunk and do something I might regret. I glance at Gwen, then realize I’d have to be a completely horrible person to do that. Also, Gwen doesn’t like me that way either.
I blurt out, “Everything was going so well, or so I thought, then she just left without an explanation.”
And suddenly, I find myself telling poor Gwen everything…
I’m angry before my alarm goes off at four a.m. I’ve been in the worst mood of my entire life since Wednesday night. I talked poor Gwen’s ear off on Saturday night about Ms. Takes-Off-On-You-Then-Wishes-You’d-Eat Rats-for-NO-Good-Reason. I’ve also taken to grumbling about Libras (of all the inane things to even think about, let alone talk about) and muttering curse words when I’m alone at my apartment, my office, and once at the grocery store. Mr. Spock must be able to tell I’m on edge because he hasn’t attempted to scratch the side of my couch even once since Wednesday, which is kind of nice actually. But this feeling? Decidedly not nice.
I have no idea how today’s segment is going to go, but to be honest, I’m kind of looking forward to facing off with Serafina. I’m in exactly the right mood to shut her and her stupid ideas down. Which is what I’m going to do when we get on air.
When I arrive at the studio, I go directly to my dressing room, then shut the door. I have no desire to see the breaker of my heart before I absolutely must. Justin comes to get me for my hair and makeup, and I sit the entire time while Tony is brushing bronzer on me without saying two words. Luckily, I make it back to the safety of my dressing room without bumping into She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Although my phone buzzes and it’s her.
Sera: In the name of professionalism, we need to set our personal issues aside on air. Agreed?
* * *
ObiWan: What personal issues? You’re the only one with personal issues. I’m normal.
* * *
Sera: You know what I’m talking about.
* * *
ObiWan: I don’t think I’ve ever known what you’re talking about because it’s all a bunch of nonsense and lies.
* * *
Sera: That. What you just wrote. That stays off air.
* * *
ObiWan: Fine. I’m a professional (unlike some people). Just know I’m bringing the force of all the science to go after you.
* * *