Lie of My Life

17 A Sport's Bar Bathroom

A few hours later I found myself in a sports bar on the West End. I wasn't sure how exactly we'd gotten here. Only that Wes and Aaron were primarily responsible. Though none of us had argued.

Carter wouldn't stop looking at me. Maybe it had been cruel to say those fateful words that everyone hated to hear and then leave him in the dark for the rest of the evening. But I hadn't been the one pushing us all into the car at ten o' clock at night and directing us toward some overcrowded sports bar that my friend from my law firm had recommended. That had been Wes. And I wasn't the one buying everyone drinks in celebration of our home team victory. That was Aaron. I hadn't wanted to come at all. But that was the thing about dating in secret. You either told people about it or you kept pretending it didn't exist. And I wasn't sure anymore which of those scared me the most.

Aaron and Wes were at the bar now, chatting with some guys in suits that looked like they might be the law firm buddies who had recommended this place. Shane was trying to get Emma to go play air hockey with him. It was only a matter of time until we were alone, Carter and I, and he would ask what we needed to talk about and I hadn't decided yet how to say what I wanted to say. Or if I wanted to say it at all.

"Okay, fine," Emma finally relented, letting Shane take her by the hand and pull her from our booth. "We'll be back."

With that promise made, she followed Shane off to the air hockey table and Carter and I were alone. I felt him watching me as I watched the fizz on my beer and, when I finally looked up, those eyes were still piercing into me.

"Who were the flowers from?" He asked in a low drawl and my brow furrowed in response. That hadn't been what I was expecting him to say.

"What?" I asked.

"Who were the flowers from?" He repeated.

"I thought you didn't care."

"You want me to care."

There it was. He was right. I did want him to care but why and to what extent I wasn't sure. Maybe it wasn't fair to have this conversation until I was. Or maybe I was just telling myself that so we could continue this charade between us. Stalling for time, I reached for my beer, pulled it to my lips, and sipped. He waited, watching me.

"Ava-"

"Something's changed Carter," I blurted because if I didn't spit it out now, I feared I never would. "For me, at least. And it hasn't for you and that's fine. It's understandable even. We had a deal, an arrangement and I'm the one not sticking to the terms. But my heart is mixed up in this now and I don't know how exactly. All I know is... this has to stop."

His jaw clenched. Not the reaction I'd been expecting.

"Well," he said after a long pause, leaning back in his seat and staring out over the sea of football fans celebrating, not the slightest bit aware of the girl in the booth in the corner whose heart was shattering to pieces, "if you say so."

My lips parted as I stared at him. If I say so? Was he just as indifferent to this as he was to the flowers? Did he truly not care at all about whatever there had been between us? He could stop just as easily as he had started, just as easily as he did with every other girl.

I was on my feet before I even had a plan. His eyes ticked up to mine, head cocked slightly in curiosity. I supposed that was all I was to him. A curiosity.

"Bathroom," I muttered hastily.

Because the tears were already gathering in the corners of my eyes and I couldn't stand the idea of letting him see them. Because although I'd conducted myself maturely and handled the situation about as well as I could have, my heart was breaking into a million pieces at his answer, at his indifference. Because I could feel it starting, the deep sobs that bruised your ribs and came from the pit of your very soul. It was coming and it was unstoppable and the least I could do was get away from him when they did. Because he had been my best friend. And now he was the reason I was crying alone in a sports bar bathroom.

The stall was small and dingy, paint peeling in places and porcelain stained by years of half-assed cleaning. I didn't care. I just sat on the lid and cried, letting the tears flow freely in hopes that, if I did, I might get them to stop some day. Mentally, I was aware of my friends outside the door, laughing and celebrating, oblivious to my pain or the fact that my world was crashing down around me and had been for some time. I knew I was going to have to stop crying sooner rather than later, get it together enough to convince them that nothing was wrong, that a relationship they hadn't known about hadn't ended. But emotionally, I wasn't prepared for that. I wasn't prepared for any of it.

Once my sobbing had wreaked enough havoc on my body to leave me a sniveling, hiccuping mess staring blankly at the stall door in front of me, I began to calm myself down, to even think that soon I could emerge, dab my mascara from my face, rinse off in some cold water to tamp down on the puffiness, and then emerge with the excuse that my allergies were acting up. That's when I heard the door swing open and a familiar voice call out my name.

"Ava?"

It was Emma. She strode across the tile floor to the sink, setting down her purse and rifling through it for a moment. I hastily wiped my wet cheeks, dabbing at my eyes as best as I could. Then I opened the stall door slowly and stepped outside. She was standing at the mirror, lips puckered as she applied another layer of lip gloss to her already very shiny lips.

"Do you have a tampon? I thought I put one in here but-"

She stopped when she turned to face me, brow furrowing in concern the moment her eyes met mine. I supposed I hadn't done a very good job at getting rid of the evidence.

"Ava, are you alright?" She asked.

"Of course," I told her, nodding too fervently, using the excuse of searching for a tampon to avert my eyes from her gaze and stare down at the contents of my purse. After searching for a moment, I located the item in question and held it out to her.

"Ava-"

"Allergies," I spat. "They've been really bad this week and I- I've started my period too so you know."

She nodded slowly, taking the tampon and heading for the stall. I watched her go, wondering if she'd bought any of that at all, when another thought entered my mind and this one shattered every last bit of resolve I'd had left.

Started my period...

I was five days late.