It’s been two days since I’ve heard from David. I’ve kept busy with a few hours reading at the library and more museum visits, so I don’t go completely crazy that the few texts I’ve sent have gone unanswered. I convince myself that things in California must have caused him a bunch of extra work, so I try not to pay much mind. Then again, on Monday on the Ferris wheel he said there was this ‘thing’ on Friday night, tonight, that he wanted to take me to. It’s now Friday afternoon and no word.

Had I done something wrong? Or was he actually the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type? I hadn’t gotten that vibe at all, but… I gave in, put out, and now he’s gone. And not only does my head and heart miss him, but my body does as well. The way we connected… I never knew sex could be like that.

I settle in with my TV and my new Netflix subscription to watch a show Cara and Trent recommended, Stranger Things. After a couple of riveting episodes which were a great distraction, I’m feeling a bit hungry and wonder what I’m going to do. I’m assuming that whatever ‘thing’ David had in mind for tonight was now a ‘no-go.’ In fact, I’m assuming that David and I are a ‘no-go’ at this point as well.

Around five-thirty, my cell phone chimes, and I grab the device like it’s a lifeline convinced it’s David finally getting back to me. I see it’s Lainey and am more than a little bummed, however, it’s nice to know people care. Are you still moping? Or did David finally get back to you about tonight? And if he hasn't gotten back, can I rip his balls off?

I laugh in spite of myself. She really is an awesome friend. Not moping. Catching up on Gossip Girl, I message back.

Right away, the three balls jump around signaling she's replying. Then the message pops up. Same as moping. Take a shower and meet me for dinner.

She texts me back an address to a place called Big Nick’s on Michigan Avenue, and we agree to meet at seven o’clock.

I take a shower and get dressed trying to get excited about going to dinner with a friend. I like Lainey and that she reaches out to me, and she does so in a way that doesn’t make me feel like a pity invite, the way Heather’s invites sometimes did. Millie and Cara both had messaged a couple of times over the past couple of days, but I politely declined their invitations, and they’ve not pushed.

I almost send David another text, or even call him, but I don’t want to seem desperate. If he’s done with me, I don’t want to come off as a needy stalker type. If he’s busy with business things, and if his apartment is any indication, he’s a very successful businessman which undoubtedly takes a lot of hours. I don’t want to jeopardize any of his business.

Besides, we only met a couple of weeks ago.

Yet, it feels like I’ve known him so much longer. I’ve never been with someone I’ve felt so comfortable with from the get-go. Which only makes me feel worse for having been false with him. And now knowing what happened with Leo all those years ago, I know that I have to be honest and have faith in people.

Walking up Michigan Avenue, I decide that I’m also going to tell Lainey a few more honest things about myself, like my real name, and hometown… that I grew up in a trailer park, and we’ll see what else comes up. I hope practicing telling my story will make it easier when I tell David.

I get to the restaurant fifteen minutes earlier than what Lainey and I agreed on, and it’s already packed. Then again, it’s Friday night. I spot a table in the bar right up next to the window freeing up, and I quickly make my way there to claim the spot. The window is great because maybe I can spot Lainey walking up the street.

There is a lot to watch on the street. I notice the hotel right across the street where there’s a red carpet on the sidewalk complete with paparazzi, film cameras, and vans with local TV station logos pasted to the side. There’s a large banner featuring logos of many businesses that I can’t read from this far away, under a title that reads 14th Annual Sixty-Five Roses Gala. Limos are lined up, and people are getting out of their cars with a flurry of flashes before they walk over to the backdrop. I study the scene intently wondering if they are celebrities.

Then I see something that has me frozen.

David. Wearing a tuxedo. Whoa. He looks amazing. He stands tall straightening his jacket while he smiles and waves at the cameras. He reaches into the limo and pulls out a woman—a tall blonde with big boobs who is made up like a real-life Barbie Doll, complete with a glamorous and sexy black dress that’s cut down to her belly button. I don’t want to believe it’s David, but from every angle and the bright flashes illuminating his sparkling eyes and dazzling smile, I know it’s him. He stands with the blonde at his side who is holding his hand, and David stands there smiling and looks as gracious as ever.

My heart drops into my gut, and I feel sick. That’s why he hasn’t called. Did he meet her in California? She certainly looks like she could be from there. I’m not good enough. I’m not exciting. I look nothing like that girl he’s with. I’m a far cry from glamorous. My body looks like a shoelace compared to the girl he’s with. And she looks rich. Well, I’m rich, too—now at least. But David doesn’t know that. And no matter how much money I have, I’m not that rich.

David turns and ducks inside the doors escorting the Barbie, and the photographers are on to the next limo.

“Welcome to Big Nick’s. My name is Dana,” says a perky waitress. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait for your date?”

My date. There will be no date for me, I cry inwardly, the pain in my heart radiating through every limb. I need the pain to stop. I grab the tent card on the table and order the first cocktail I see. A cosmopolitan.

She smiles and is off with a promise to be right back.

I stare at the continuous flashing of cameras wondering what is going on and why David is there when it hits me. This is that ‘thing’ he was talking about. Was he going to bring me to a media frenzy? He must have had second thoughts that I wasn’t good enough. That could have been me standing there getting my picture taken with David. I’m not sure I would like having all those cameras in my face, but standing next to David, I would have felt like I could handle anything.

It feels like forever before the waitress brings me my pink cocktail, and I ask the waitress to bring me a second one… “For my friend,” I tell her. She winks at me and heads off.

With humiliation and hurt coursing through my veins and pushing the small warning voice in the back of my head telling me not to drink this concoction, I pick up the martini and take a tentative sip. It’s sweet, and despite the burn from the alcohol, I take a couple more mouthfuls, and I start to feel a warming in my throat and belly.

I hope that like Alice’s elixir, this sip will make me shrink into the smallest of creatures and fade away.

I turn over all the reasons in my mind about why I wasn’t good enough for David. Looks. Confidence. Maybe I shouldn’t have talked about books so much. Maybe I should have talked about shopping—not that I knew much about labels and the sort. Maybe, no definitely, I shouldn’t have gone to bed with him so damn quickly.

The waitress returns with the second drink, and when she disappears, I drain the first cosmo and start to suck on the fresh one. I watch the continued parade of tuxedo and beaded gown-clad couples at the door across the street, but in my mind, I keep seeing David and Barbie Doll.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. I knew the first time I met David that I was way out of his league. That’s why he tested me. Taking me first to that fancy restaurant, and I didn’t know most of what was on that menu. And then on the boat—alone. Maybe he was holding hope but didn’t want to be embarrassed if I made more stupid moves, and no one would be there to witness David’s lame choice in girls. And then the music festival. I probably humiliated him in front of Chip and Mr. Goodman. Last week was a trial. I failed. He took me back to his place for a ‘goodbye fuck’—a two-day ‘goodbye fuck’ with a trip to Navy Pier where he was dressed unrecognizably. And now here I am. Alone. Drinking.

Drinking.

I realize things are looking fuzzy, and my brain feels fuzzy.

“Hey, Tali!” A familiar voice bleeds into my thoughts. I turn to see Lainey and instantly feel like bursting into tears.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, and her expression turns to worry. She hugs me quickly and asks, “What’s wrong?”

I can’t speak. How do I choose words to cover my shame?

Lainey sits and waves over the waitress. The two chat a moment then Lainey turns her attention back to me. “Okay. Speak,” she commands.

Apparently, when I’m ordered to, after a drink or two, I do what I’m told. And I tell her what I saw.

“David. With a woman. On the street righd out there. She’z zo glamorous.” I hear the slurring in my words and am horrified. I’m my mother. I feel like going home. To Harton. I miss home. I know the rules there. Here, nothing is the way it seems.

“Are you kidding me? I’m gonna rip that man’s balls off! He doesn’t text you for two days, and he’s out with someone else?!”

“She’z preddy but didn’t look too smart,” I add before the bar starts to feel really warm and turn sideways.

“Whoa. I gotcha,” Lainey says, wrapping her arms around me. “What do you say we just order some takeout at home,” she suggests before I feel myself being walked out of the crowded and really steamy bar.