Messed Up 2 (Fucked Up)

4- Shrooms

4

Mia's POV

I get to Eve's and see Isla, who's dressed in a short light green dress with her hair loosely gathered up. She sees me and waves for me. I approach and hug her.

"You look so beautiful!" I say when I pull back from her.

"So do you!"

"Congratulations!"

"Thank you!

"Where's Oliver?" Isla asks.

"He's sick."

"Oh, no!"

"Yeah. He said he wasn't feeling good."

"Come on! Zoey and Brian won't show up either!"

"What? Zoey didn't tell me anything!"

"She said her dad has found out about Brian and they have to meet him."

"Seems like Phil needs another smooch to start acting better," I say lowly.

"I can't believe we're falling apart like this. You're the only person to show up."

"We're all adults. I guess we would have to fall apart at some point, but it doesn't mean that we're not friends anymore."

"Yeah. We'll be friends who won't show up at each other's birthdays and weddings and then we'll be complete strangers."

I take her hand in mine. "I promise you, if anyone falls apart from our group of friends, it won't be me."

"But you have a baby now."

"I might have to stop coming to every party and every bar, but we'll still meet each other. Having Christian doesn't prevent me from seeing you guys. If anything, it makes me needier to have you as my friends, because who else will love me and my baby beside you guys?"

Isla pouts. "If I had no makeup I'd cry now."

I squeeze her hand and smile at her. "Let's make the best of tonight. We don't know when we'll ever party."

"Yes. You will be busy for the next eighteen years!"

My mouth falls open. "That's not a nice way to start tonight!"

She smiles back at me. "Sorry! Let's make this night unforgettable! We'll be just like when Oliver and Zoey weren't our friends."

"Yes! Isla and Mia! Just the two of us! Where are your colleagues?"

"It's just Nate," she says, pointing at a guy getting a drink. "They won't show up either."

"What? Why?"

"There was a party at Whoosh tonight. They preferred going there."

Nate approaches us. We say hi and shake hands. Isla hands me a glass of red drink and holds a glass of Champagne in her hand. She clicks her drink to mine and then tosses it back.

"Yolo," she says as she forces me to drink the whole glass in one breath.

After I finish my drink, I wipe my mouth and nod. "Yolo, indeed, yikes!" I say, the alcohol burning my throat. I cough. "This is not wine," I say, and Isla shrugs.

"Who cares?"

She grabs another drink and hands it to me. She chugs on her glass and then starts talking to her coworkers.

"Let's pay Whoosh a visit then," I say, and Isla's eyes round.

"What?"

"I said we'll make the best of tonight, and I meant it."