[WATTYS 2021 SHORTLIST]
After suffering a heartbreak caused by no explanation, DYLAN MILLER does everything she can to forget about HUNTER GRAYSON.
That all changes 18 months later when the two finally meet once again. Except this time is nothing...
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Was the universe playing some sick, cruel joke on me? Was I being punished for something? Was I stuck in a dream – no, correction – nightmare?
Why did my favourite number have to fail me now?
It might seem silly to most, well probably a lot, to still have a favourite number. 18 just always seemed to stick around. Plus, it seemed to find a way to find me a sense of happiness.
Well, except for now.
To make matters worse, not only was I seeing Hunter for the first time in 18 months, but it was also on the exact day I finished my list. For 18 months I didn't have to see this boy. And now, all of a sudden, he just happens to be across the bar from me? Just my luck to be seeing him again all alone.
Great. Just great.
I couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were running through Hunter's mind as his eyes watched me. Was he wondering what I was thinking about? Was he trying to read me? Ohgod. Did he even remember me? I mean, he must have. But, there was that possibility he didn't and I was just some random, lonely girl at a bar he was taking an interest in.
Oh, how I've heard that story before.
As a tall brunette walked over to Hunter's side, putting her arm around his shoulder and whispering something into his ear, I took that as my cue to finally pull my gaze from his.
My eyes moved to the glass in front of me. I hesitated to decide whether I should accept his gesture. Would that make him think he won?
Fuck it, I thought to myself. I needed a drink.
Two limes hung tightly on the rim, the contents seeming to be vodka soda. I guess that answered my question of whether or not he remembered me. Then again, my drink order was a classic choice, even considering my annoying request of having not one, but two limes.
I kept myself busy with whatever I could think of to avoid having to look back up. Pulling my phone out of my bag, I sent off another text to Abby to find out where she was and how long I would have to suffer here alone.
I glanced around the space I was in, taking in the scene for the first time since entering. The inside seemed to replicate the same look from the out. The walls were painted a gloomy shade of grey, the lighting was relatively dim, and the bar stools were all made of black leather. There were more bodies inside than I would have thought, given the limited appearance of an open establishment from the outside. The music played at a volume that didn't overpower the room, allowing for easy conversation to flow between customers.
As my eyes moved around, I couldn't help but look back at him. The brunette who previously stood beside him now found her way onto his lap. He seemed pleased with whatever she was whispering into his ear.
