The darts struck the white stock paper with a satisfying thud that echoed in the nearly empty bar. Bam. Bam. Bam.

Olivia leaned back to assess her handiwork. Her throws were getting better. She might not have hit the bullseye, but the wedding invitation was sufficiently murdered.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her co-worker, Lena, sidle up beside her. “Seriously? Are you still obsessing over that thing?”

That thing was the wedding invite for her ex-boyfriend’s wedding in a few weeks. Olivia didn’t answer. She assumed the question was rhetorical.

Lena sighed. “Why don’t you just skip it?”

Olivia’s long blonde ponytail whipped over her shoulder as she turned to face her friend. “I can’t skip it, they’re my friends.” She was using the term “friends” loosely here. They’d agreed to stay friendly because they moved in the same circles, but she could barely stand to be in the same room as her ex and his bride-to-be.

Lena tipped her chin down so she was looking up at her from beneath furrowed brows. It was the same look she gave to Crazy Pete when he came in looking for his twin.

Crazy Pete didn’t have a twin.

“Sweetie, they’re not your friends. He’s your ex-boyfriend and she’s a skanky ho who used to pretend to be your friend.” Lena had never been one to mince words. “You are under no obligation to attend this stupid wedding. It was cruel and unusual of them to even ask.”

Olivia shrugged. Since she’d taken the circuitous five-year route to graduation and Lena had been a year behind them in school, they’d gotten close this past year as Olivia watched her former circle of friends disband. They’d all gone off to pursue careers while she’d stayed behind to finish up her degree while waiting tables at their college bar alongside Lena. This meant that while Lena knew all the players in the drama of Olivia’s life, she wasn’t part of the group so she didn’t truly understand the dynamic no matter how many times Olivia had tried to explain it.

“I’m just saying,” Lena continued, following closely behind her. “You could just tell them to suck it instead of taking it out on a piece of paper.”

It was too late for that. She’d already RSVP’d that she’d attend…with a plus one. In hindsight she supposed her friend was right. She probably should have invented some sort of excuse to skip this nightmare. But three months ago, as she’d cried over the invite in her hand, her pride had reared its ugly head. She’d been determined to prove that she’d moved on, as if she was totally cool with it all. Saying yes had seemed like the best way to do that.

In her defense, she’d responded months ago and had optimistically assumed that by the time the wedding came around she would be cool with it all.

She was not.

Up close the invitation was just as irritating as ever, even though it was now riddled with holes. She pulled one of the darts so she could see the offensive calligraphy. “God, I hate that phrase.” She’d mumbled it under her breath—sounding more than a bit like Crazy Pete—but Lena still heard her.

“Dude, plus one is just a phrase people use for weddings when they don’t know who you’re going to bring. Much as I love to hate on the ex and the ho, I really don’t think that their sending the invite to you and a plus one was the insult you think it was.”

Maybe. Maybe not. That didn’t change the fact that the phrase stung. She turned to face her friend. “They know I don’t have a plus one.”

Lena shrugged. “So get one.”

Olivia gave a little snort. “Right. Like it’s that easy.”

“It is.”

Olivia ignored her again. She refused to have the online dating conversation one more time. She’d tried it. Three times, to be exact. Each time worse than the last. No, thanks. There was no way she’d be repeating that disastrous experiment. Besides, the wedding was mere weeks away, not nearly enough time to find Mr. Right and convince him it wasn’t weird to join her at her ex’s wedding.

“You know what you should do?” Lena paused dramatically so Olivia lifted her eyebrows.

“I’m listening.”

“You should invite someone who would totally piss them off.”

Olivia laughed. “Like who? Crazy Pete?”

Lena turned serious. “Like Jordan Catalano.”

Olivia blinked at her in horror. Jordan Catalano was Lena’s nickname for Drew. Her ex-best friend. He was so not a Jordan Catalano. Okay, maybe he looked a little like the My So Called Life character, but that was it.

And the fact that he had a band.

But that was where the similarities ended. Jordan Catalano was quiet and shallow and maybe even a little dumb. Drew was none of those things. He was loud, obnoxious, smart, and irritating.

And her ex would freak if she brought him.

Lena was watching her with barely concealed excitement. “Right? Am I totally right?”

She gave a grudging nod of agreement. “It wouldn’t go over well.”

“Are you kidding me? Didn’t the three of you have some epically awesome friendship before Drew ruined everything?”

“Mmm.” She kept her mouth shut, feigning a keen interest in the dust that had collected on the dartboard’s ridges. She’d told Lena the whole sordid story one night when they’d both gotten hammered after work. Now she wished she hadn’t. It was a piece of her college history better left forgotten. It was easier that way.

They’d all met freshman year. The two guys had been roommates and she’d been in their Intro to Psychology class. It had been friend-love at first sight. By the time second semester rolled around, it had been love-love for her and her ex, while Drew had become her very best friend. The kind of best friend she’d always wanted but had never found. Not in grade school, and definitely not in junior high. Though she’d had a couple close friends she’d really cared about in high school, even those friendships paled in comparison to what she’d had with Drew.

Right up until he’d ruined it.

“Tell me again the song he sang that ruined your friendship?” Lena sounded like a child asking for a beloved bedtime story.

Olivia sighed. “Jessie’s Girl.”

Lena sighed as well, but hers sounded dreamy. “That’s right.” Then she gave Olivia a judgy look. “I still don’t get why you were so upset about a stupid karaoke song.”

She took a deep breath. “He sang it to me.” Even to her own ears, it was a lame defense. How could she explain the look that had been in his eyes as he’d belted out that stupid song?

Lena shrugged. “He was drunk.”

“He sang it in front of my boyfriend,” she added.

“Your ex-boyfriend,” Lena corrected.

Sure, now he was her ex-boyfriend, but he hadn’t been that night. That night there had still been a chance for them. “He sang it to me in front of my boyfriend whose name is Jessie.”

The answering silence was broken by the sound of the bartender clinking glasses as he put them away. Finally, Lena conceded, “I’m not saying it was a cool thing to do. I’m just saying it might be time to forgive the guy already.”

She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms. She had been willing to forgive him, he was the one who’d shut her out. Losing her best friend on top of losing her boyfriend had been unbearable. She was still hard-pressed to say which had been a greater loss.

Drew. Definitely Drew.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a tough dilemma. Losing her best friend had been like losing her other half. But she’d made one attempt to talk to him and he’d shut her down. He had no interest, it seemed, in keeping up any kind of friendship, not even a lame pretense of a friendship like she had with Jessie and Camille. To Lena, she said, “He doesn’t want to be forgiven.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “He’s too stubborn. Just like you.”

Maybe. Maybe not. All she knew was she’d made an attempt right before graduation. Maybe it wasn’t a grandiose gesture, but she’d tried. In a fit of nostalgia at the thought of all her friends moving on without her, she’d approached him at the bar where a bunch of seniors had gone to celebrate. She’d had off that night but had come to the bar anyway. Drew and Jessie weren’t speaking any longer but they’d come to some sort of truce where they could be in the same room with one another even though there was no love lost there either.

He’d stared at her like she’d grown a second head when she’d drawn near, wrapped an arm around the freshman floozy who’d been trying to paste herself to his side, and turned away. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. First, he’d said, “The ladies’ room is that way.” He’d helpfully pointed to the hallway leading to the bathroom and then turned his back on her.

Ass.

Maybe it was for the best that he’d been a jerk that night. Not because she couldn’t forgive him a stupid karaoke song. It wasn’t about that. It was the fact that he’d crossed the line—the invisible but always there line that made it possible for two hormonal, heterosexual twentysomethings of opposite sexes to be best friends. He’d crossed the line that there was no coming back from.

The thing was, the thing that Lena never really understood, was that Drew didn’t really like her like that. He never had. It had always been platonic between them, so whatever had been going on in that drunk mind of his, it had clearly been a temporary fit of insanity. If he’d somehow managed to convince himself he had feelings for her, they would have been out of his system by the time he woke up the next morning. He could have just slept it off.

But no. He’d gone and acted on a stupid whim and had altered their friendship forever.

Drew was a player, plain and simple. He had been since the first day she’d met him. He was the first to admit that he didn’t do serious, he didn’t do commitments—he did casual flings and one-night stands. That was why their friendship was so much better than a sexual relationship. It had been lasting, strong…pure.

Until he’d gone and ruined everything. And not just between the two of them. That same night Jessie had ended it with her for good. She supposed there was a chance the two were unrelated, but she’d doubted it. First Drew crossed the line, then Jessie ended their relationship. What were the odds that those two events happening on the same night were purely coincidence?

While Olivia was still reeling from Drew’s unexpected outburst, Jessie had broken it to her that he had fallen for Camille while they were still dating.

And now they were engaged.

Awesome.

Lena leaned against the wall and stared off into space. “Three best friends torn apart by a love triangle…” She trailed off with a sigh. “It’s all so St. Elmo’s Fire.”

Olivia leaned against the wall beside her—their dumbass of a manager thought it looked unprofessional if the waitresses sat down on the job, even if there were only two customers and they were both sitting at the bar. Looking down at her tacky green shirt that the owners thought gave the waitresses a festive Irish flair, she turned to Lena with a pitiful laugh. “Oh God. If I’m in St. Elmo’s Fire, does that make me Emilio Estevez’s character?”

Lena closed her eyes, dropped her head back against the wall, and let out a disturbing moan. “I love Emilio.”

Oh crap, she should never have brought him up. “I’ve got to go wrap silverware.”

Really she just had to get away from her friend before Lena started to talk about her passionate love for The Mighty Ducks. She loved the girl to death—Lena had been there for her in the aftermath of her breakup with Jessie and her friend breakup with Drew, she would never forget that. But still. The Mighty Ducks obsession?

No. Just no.

The little bell over the front door jingled. Olivia glanced over and froze.

Camille, otherwise known as “the skanky ho” by Lena, led the way with Jessie following. “Hey, girlie!” She headed straight toward Olivia with that easy confidence, as though she was sure to be welcomed here. The woman had hutzpah in spades, as Olivia’s grandmother would say.

Her grandmother would have also called the pretty blonde a hussy if she’d heard about the way she’d been canoodling with Jessie while he was still Olivia’s boyfriend. Olivia forced a smile as the other woman headed toward her and did her best to push those memories from her mind.

The hussy with hutzpah stopped just in front of her and kissed both cheeks like they were at a soiree in Paris and not in a dive bar where they’d both spent the better part of their college careers.

Olivia tried to match the air kisses but ended up feeling ridiculous. She gave Jessie a wave. He returned it with that kind smile she was beginning to despise. It was so…nice. Too nice. Almost like he was apologizing to her every time he said hello. Hi, good to see you, so sorry for fucking your friend.

Or maybe it was Hi, good to see you, so sorry you haven’t moved on yet, you poor pathetic loser.

Because he’d moved on. Hell, he’d moved on before they’d even broken up. And now he was marrying the girl who’d stolen him away.

Marriage. Wedding. Oh shit. She let out a weird wheezing noise as she remembered the invitation. The one that was currently pinned to the bar’s dartboard, stabbed to death.

With a frantic glance over her shoulder she saw that Lena was already on it. Her friend tore down the invite and gave her a thumbs up. Super subtle.

She turned back to her friends. Or rather, her ex and his new girlfriend. Lena was right. They weren’t friends anymore. Not her and Jessie. Not her and Camille. And certainly not her and Drew.

Sadness swept over her and made her chest ache with unshed tears. God, why couldn’t they go back in time and start over? Everything had been so great for three and a half years. She’d had the group of friends she’d always longed for but had never found back in her tiny hometown. She’d finally been surrounded by people who shared her interests, her hopes, her dreams.

Her nostalgic pity party came to a halt when Camille sat on a barstool and turned to face her, her head cocked to one side like a puppy. “So good to see you, hon.”

Ugh. Camille’s tone was so incredibly sweet. Like nothing had happened between them and they were still close girlfriends who stayed up late and gossiped about the boys. But it wasn’t real. Nothing about her was genuine. Not her blonde hair, not her big tits—Lena knew very well that those things were the result of an amazing invention called a push-up water bra. That’s right, water. Those suckers were jiggly and perky because they were liquid and wires.

But still, even knowing all that, she felt jealousy flooding her veins like a poison. It made her uncomfortable in her own skin. It was such an ugly emotion and she felt it contort her insides into something rotten.

Back in college—back when they’d truly been friends—people used to say they looked like sisters. Back then she’d loved that compliment. They were both blonde with blue eyes. Both petite, but Camille was skinnier. She had that waif body that made all clothes look good on her. Olivia wasn’t overweight but she had a body—one made out of flesh and fat, not conveniently placed water sacks. Camille was also more stylish, more confident, more graceful, and a better dancer. But who was keeping score? Aside from Jessie, of course. He’d clearly made the comparison and declared Camille the winner.

All year she’d been trying her best to forgive and forget, for her own peace of mind more than anything. The only problem was, that was so much easier said than done. She’d moved on, for the most part. She’d stopped obsessing over what had gone wrong or what Camille had done right. She’d come a long way this past year.

But then again, most of the time they steered clear of her and she was only forced to interact when one of their mutual friends threw a get-together.

Which begged the question…what were they doing at her bar?

Jessie seemed to read her mind. But then, he’d always been good at that. He’d always been able to tell what she was thinking without her having to speak. “Sorry to drop in on you unannounced,” he started.

“Yes, it’s clear you’re very busy.” Camille looked around pointedly. Her voice was all teasing laughter but Olivia found herself tensing up, as if she’d suddenly developed some sense of workplace pride.

“We were in the neighborhood,” Jessie continued. “And we just wanted to say—”

“Congratulations!” Camille cut in.

They were finishing one another’s sentences these days. How sweet.

Olivia still wore the same frozen smile she’d pasted on upon their arrival. Congratulations…for what?

Camille leaned forward and put her hand over Olivia’s. “You must be so excited to finally graduate.”

Right, graduation. Was it her imagination or was that “finally” just a wee bit condescending?

Lena moved behind them, pretending to wipe down some tables and when Olivia caught her gaze she rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Okay, yeah. She’d caught the condescension too.

For the millionth time that year she thanked her lucky stars that Lena had come into her life when she had. Her other college friends were either not speaking to her—ahem, Drew—or were mutual friends of Jessie and Camille’s and hence not to be put in the middle. No one had outright said as much but it went without saying. She didn’t want to be that girl who made everyone around her uncomfortable by talking smack about her ex and his new girlfriend.

They were both staring at her. Smiling at her. It was the nice smile that made her want to punch something. Instead she tucked some hair behind her ear. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s great to finally close that chapter.”

Their nice smiles wilted a bit. She felt like the ice queen come to ruin their sunny day. They probably thought she was talking about them. About the cheating and the breakup and the heartbreak… But she hadn’t meant it like that. She wasn’t trying to be underhanded or passive-aggressive, she’d just meant she was ready for school to be over and real life to begin. This past year had felt like purgatory. The fun of college had come to an end with the dissolution of her friendships and social life. Aside from Lena, she’d had no friends left at school. She’d felt like the odd man out on campus. The old lady who’d hung around too long.

Jessie recovered first. “So, are you still planning on going to LSU in the fall?”

Olivia nodded quickly, glad for the save. By real life, she’d meant law school. It had always been the plan. Her father was a lawyer, her mother was a lawyer, it had always been a given that she’d become a lawyer as well. Of course, in the “given” scenario, she graduated from undergrad in four years and with a perfect GPA.

Neither of those had happened. But with two prominent lawyer alums for parents and an awesome LSAT score, she’d still managed to get in to her dream school. Well, her parents’ dream school.

“You must be so excited,” Camille said. Her head was cocked to the side again but she’d recovered from Olivia’s previous statement and was smiling brilliantly once again. At least now she looked like an overly enthusiastic puppy instead of a puppy that had just been kicked.

“I am,” Olivia said. “I really am.”

She wasn’t.

Frankly there were many things she would have preferred to do that did not include moving to Louisiana or going to school for three more years. But it was the path she’d chosen and there was no turning back now.

Besides, she didn’t actually have any other ideas. Her best plan to date had involved circumnavigating the globe as a travel photographer. Seeing as she didn’t even own a real camera, that plan clearly needed some work.

Awkward silence fell over the end of the bar and Olivia desperately wished the bartender would turn up the volume on the stereo. At least music would give them something to listen to other then the sound of Lena rattling chairs as she painstakingly cleaned the tables closest to them so she could eavesdrop. Or maybe a customer would walk in and she could pretend to work. She gave the front door a hopeful stare but it remained firmly closed.

Camille broke the silence. “So…Livvy…”

She cringed at the nickname. No one but Drew called her Livvy. He either called her Livvy or princess or buttercup. The last two were because she’d dragged him to go to a midnight screening of The Princess Bride freshman year and the joke had stuck, but Livvy was what he’d always called her from day one. Everyone else called her Olivia or Liv. Camille’s use of that name felt forced. Contrived. Like maybe she could fool them into thinking they were all still great friends.

Not gonna happen.

Camille straightened in her chair and her smile brightened. “Do you have a date for the wedding?”

Olivia’s stomach sank and her mouth filled with saliva. She might throw up. How had she not planned for this the moment they walked through the door? She should have seen it coming. Of course Camille would want to talk about the wedding and of course they’d ask about her freakin’ plus one.

She’d gotten Camille’s passive aggressive teasing texts about not saying who her plus one would be on the RSVP. She’d bet money the whole reason Camille came in here tonight was to get an answer. Would she or would she not be bringing a plus one? And, if so, who?

Oh good Lord, why had she procrastinated on finding a date? Surely she could have found a friend of a friend if she’d really tried. Maybe one of her cousins could have set her up with someone. Or maybe she could have just brought a cousin….

She opened her mouth and looked to Jessie with wide pleading eyes. Save me.

He didn’t get the cue. Of all times to stop reading her mind, this was the lousiest. Unless he could read her mind, he knew very well that she had no date, and he just wanted to see her squirm.

Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes narrowed with suspicion. That kind of thing seemed more like something Camille would do. She was the heartless, shallow bitch in the relationship. But maybe she was rubbing off on him.

That thought more than anything else had the anger rising. The anger was always there, like a tide pool beneath the surface, just waiting for the tide to turn so it could be unleashed in a tidal wave.

The thought of her sweet, sensitive Jessie turning into an asshole because he was marrying a backstabbing witch?

The tide was coming in.

Camille’s hopeful expression fell and she bit her lower lip in a way that could only be described as adorable. Damn it, she hated Camille.

“Sorry,” Camille said in girlie singsong voice. “I hope that wasn’t a rude question.”

Camille wasn’t sorry. Olivia had seen Mean Girls more times than she could count. This right here? This was textbook mean girl. She wanted to see Olivia look like a desperate loser. And Jessie… She turned to look at him once more. He was content to sit there and watch her squirm while his new fiancée made her look stupid.

She saw red. Literally. She didn’t know that phrase actually meant a person saw the color red until that moment, but the blood was rushing to her head, all sounds in the bar drowned out by the pounding in her ears.

Rational thinking ceased as she battled the urge to lash out in response. She lost the battle. Her mouth took over when reason met its glorious death.

She shocked herself by the sweetness in her voice. Almost as syrupy and nice as Camille’s. “No, that wasn’t rude.”

It was rude.

“I have a date.”

She didn’t have a date.

She turned to Jessie and watched with a sense of triumph as his eyes widened slightly in surprise. That’s right, jackass, I’ve moved on.

Not really.

But he didn’t need to know that!

“Who is it?” Camille asked.

Olivia was dimly aware of Lena staring at her over Jessie’s shoulder, shock and horror clearly written on her face as she watched.

She should stop. She should say she wasn’t sure yet. Or play coy and say it was still early on in their relationship or something. There were several ways she could still save herself, but they all required a rational mind.

She’d forsaken reason for the far more gratifying quest for vengeance. She refused to overthink it. Refused to think about it at all, actually. The word just slipped out from between her lips as if summoned by a spell. “Drew.”

The moment it came out, reason returned and horror had her choking for air. What was she saying? What had she done?

For a second she let herself hope that she was imagining things. That she hadn’t really said his name, after all. All three of them had studiously avoided talking about him for a year. His name had become off-limits through an unspoken but tacit agreement. Drew had been the looming, but avidly ignored, elephant in the room for all these months. Surely she hadn’t just said that he was going to be her date to the wedding.

But Jessie and Camille’s expression told her that yes, she definitely had said Voldemort’s name.

She held her breath as she watched Jessie’s reaction. He’d flinched at first and now…oh hell. Now he looked at her with those big sad eyes asking her why?

Why, Olivia? Why would you be so hurtful and cruel?

She knew Jessie’s friend breakup with Drew must have been just as hard on him as it had been on her. They’d all been so close once upon a time. To go from that intimacy to the sort of distance that Drew had imposed. It was cold. Harsh, even. At least she’d made an attempt to stay friendly with her ex. Heck, she even made efforts to be nice to Camille. The least Drew could do was be civil to his former best friends. Did their history mean nothing to him?

Camille was nibbling on her lower lip, looking unusually nervous as she glanced back and forth between Olivia and Jessie. “So,” she said to Olivia. “You and Drew still keep in touch?”

She couldn’t read Camille’s expression. Her gaze was guarded, cagey. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Drew might be an awkward topic among the three of them. First, there was the fact that his epically awful karaoke night had somehow led to the final fight between her and Jessie. Aside from that, she happened to know without a doubt that Camille had harbored a crush on Drew for years. Years! While Olivia had gushed about her fabulous boyfriend Jessie, Camille would talk her ear off about the many myriad qualities that made Drew such a catch.

Olivia looked from Camille to Jessie, who had steeled his expression. Did Jessie know his fiancée had a thing for his former best friend? If so, he couldn’t be pleased that he was coming to the wedding.

For the first time since she’d said his name, Olivia didn’t feel so terrible. Sure she’d gotten herself into a mess, but picturing the kind of bickering that was about to ensue between the happy couple as they discussed Drew… She sighed quietly. It was almost worth it.

It gave her a new sense of confidence. For once she had the upper hand while dealing with these two, even if it was based on lies. “Yeah, we’ve stayed in touch.” She gave a small shrug that she hoped would sell the fib. It seemed to work. Camille smiled again, back to her normal disingenuous self. “Well, that’s great. We can’t wait to see you both at the wedding. Isn’t that right, Jessie?”

He nodded. “Hon, we should head out if we’re going to make our reservation.”

Camille smiled up at him with such adoration, Olivia tried not to gag. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her emotions under control as first Camille and then Jessie gave her a big hug and said their goodbyes.

It wasn’t until the door closed behind them that she turned to meet Lena’s wide-eyed stare.

“Oh girl,” Lena said, her voice tragically sad. “What have you done?”