Worth The Fight

Chapter 3

The idea of spending a Saturday night with my best friend always puts a smile on my face. But, when it involves a mass of sweaty bodies and loud music, I always wonder why the heck I always agree with it.

Unlike me, Kayla's definition of having fun is dancing the night away. And while I love dancing, I'd much rather not do it in a nightclub where people are packed shoulder to shoulder and the music is blasting at ear-splitting levels.

Working at a bar, I deal with my fair share of drunk and loud people regularly, but at least I have a counter to use as a barrier between me and them. Tonight, Kayla chose the most popular and expensive club in town, swearing we'd have a good time.

And I just didn't have the heart to say no.

After I told her everything about what happened yesterday, she reminded me of how far I've come and how strong I am. I wish I could see myself through her eyes, but I just can't. Even though I'm grateful for her unwavering support and uplifting perspective.

I've known her my whole life since we went to the same school, but it was only after my mom died that we became best friends. Having lost her own parents when she was a little child, she knew the pain I was going through, so she made it her mission to stick with me.

No other kid at the time seemed to get how painfully broken my heart was, so we bonded over the fall that had changed my life forever.

So, after a well-deserved late afternoon of getting pampered at a salon, here we are at one of the most popular nightclubs in the state.

My often frizzy curls are perfectly straightened and fall effortlessly over my shoulder. My makeup is bold and dramatic - a mix of charcoal and silver shadow along with a glossy peach lip color, giving me a deep and sultry look.

While Kayla went all out with a tight black dress, smokey eyes, and matte red lipstick, I opted for a white silky one-shoulder top and ultra-skinny black jeans. Both of us are wearing ridiculously high heels, but I won't lie and say we don't look good.

Slipping in among the crowd, we make a beeline for the bar, and a shot or two later, we're both walking hand in hand to the dance floor. This is totally not my scene, and I'd much rather be at home in my pajamas watching a movie and stuffing my face with junk food.

But, when Kay's gaze meets mine and a smile of pure joy leaves her lips, I shake my head and allow myself to get lost in the music, hands in the air and body moving in sync with some pop song I don't recognize.

After what feels like ages, but it's probably been thirty minutes, my hair is sticking to my neck and my throat is hoarse from singing along to some nineties pop songs.

"Wanna grab a drink?" I shout to Kayla, who shakes her head, too lost in the song. "All right, be right back!" I head to the bar, finding a couple of empty stools in the corner.

"What can I get you, gorgeous?" I hear the barman ask, his eyes lingering a second too long on my cleavage. I raise my eyebrows when his eyes meet mine, and he lets out an apologetic smile. Too familiar with the unwelcome looks of guys every day at work, I just shrug and give him a pointed look.

"A Cosmo, please," I say, looking around just in time to see a man sitting on the stool by my side. He's wearing a dark button-up shirt and a pair of slim tapered chino pants that really suit him. Probably in his mid-twenties like me and with a cute heart-shaped face, he reminds me of a young Ryan Gosling. I'd find him quite attractive if it weren't for his glassy eyes, letting me know he's been drinking for a while now.

"And I thought the beer was good here..." He slurs, confirming my suspicion he's drunk, but before I have time to say anything, he offers me his hand. "I'm Elliot."