-ＤＡＵＮＴＬＥＳＳ- 𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑤𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒

𝟏𝟖 • 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄

"Uh, yeah I'll see." Dad's eyes trail to where his attention was and I can tell he's about to invite me over to join them. Erik's tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he studies my movements, his fingers tapping against the chair he leans his palm on.

"I'm going to the restroom, I'll be back." I lean over to my mom and she nods, returning to the other two women. I begin toward the exit of the room and Erik manages to catch up to me.

"So, when were you going to tell me that you hung out with Lawrence again?" He interrogates gruffly.

"Wasn't planning on it actually." I shoot back, as I'm about to reach the bathroom.

"He's gonna break your heart, Sam." He states with one hand tucked in the pocket of his dress pants and the other pointed towards me.

"Then enjoy the show." I shove open the door in irritation and sigh, finally getting a moment to breathe since the night began.

I hop up onto the white marbled counter and dangle my feet above the floor, gliding the bottom of my heels against the stone occasionally. One of the stall doors open and Ali creeps out, discovering me in relief.

"Are you hiding too?" She asks and I nod, keeping my focus on my bracelets that I fiddle with.

"Why would you be hiding?" I ask and she checks the dainty silver watch under her sleeve.

"Because I've spoken to over half of Encino just in the past ten minutes and I'm getting tired of having to fake a laugh every time they make a joke." She admits with a grin, "Plus, I'm supposed to meet Daniel right about now." The dirty blonde excitedly fluffs up her hair in the mirror.

"Tell him I say hi." I smile at her.

"Will do," She replies in a giggle, aiming for the door. "You know, Johnny's been pining at you all night. Just thought you'd like to know." She smirks and disappears out of the bathroom.

I recall how he appeared when he was speaking to my dad and how much it irked me that he actually looked good. The regret settles in, having avoided him all night and assuming he would stop trying by now, I manage to snatch a bottle of wine from a silver serving platter just outside of the kitchen along with a few mints from a table in the front of the establishment.

My ego is way too big to walk back in there and associate myself with him after what happened the other night, no matter how much I really wanted to. I slip out the side doors of the country club and wrap my black lace shawl tightly around my arms. I take a swig of the wine and grip the bottle tightly as I cross my arms.

As cold as it is, I'd rather avoid the entire country club experience in the shuttering chill than return and have to deal with all of it. When I first moved here, I had a positive mindset, if anything, and comparing it to now, it forms a sort of pit in my stomach. I wish it went differently, completely differently, and I wish I didn't hate the new lifestyle my mom worked so hard for.

I can almost recall back in Chicago when I was jealous of people who had what I have now and would even kill for it. I would've loved to get dressed up in fancy dresses and jewelry just for one night to get out of my old handed down t-shirts. Now, having all of it, it seems if most of it hasn't changed and the struggles only migrated into other categories.

I pop a mint into my mouth and after what feels like ten minutes later, the door opens again. I cloak the wine bottle beneath the fabric of my shawl, but my muscles relax once I notice Johnny's figure in the doorway. He's now in only his tie and white button up with a few of them undone at the top, assumably due to the warm temperature accumulated within the ballroom amongst the crowds of people dancing.