The Best Years

Chapter Five

I walked back towards the open lounge and glanced at the stage and the couches surround it. I spotted her and suddenly wondered how he knew that.

He leaned down again like I wouldn't hear a whisper because of the height difference, "I was right. Don't feel bad. You'll get used to it."

I leaned against the wall watching her interact with these new people. Maybe she won't notice I'm not being social. Well, I am, but he only half counts.

I sipped my coffee before saying, "Humble I see. Who are those people?" I tossed my head toward them instead of pointing.

He tossed his empty coffee cup in the trash behind us not far making the shot. I officially hated him. He's rude, apparently never wrong, and makes impossible shots that he doesn't feel the need to celebrate so this must be normal for him.

He folded his arms across his chest clearly unamused, so I wasn't sure why he stuck around. I didn't need a baby sitter or company. I escaped Florida to be more alone.

He said in a less cocky voice, "My friends."

He started to walk towards his group of friends enthralled with B and I didn't follow. Was I supposed to? I wasn't sure and honestly, I didn't want to. I took this chance to get lost in the three rows of books. All used, faded.

Kafka, Bukowski, Palahniuk, Ellis - all my favorites. The stories with so many layered meanings you could get lost.

B shouted my name from a short distance and I debated hiding somehow in the books. She was determined and quick. None of this caught her eye. Not the books, the coffee, or the live music. She lives in a small box of boys and art.

She always told our high school art teacher that, "Without boys I would be empty - drama free - and that doesn't create art Miss Hubert. I want my art to be ecstasy and heartbreak."

She spoke like a mother who finally found her kid in the grocery story after looking for a half hour, "Layla! There you are. I have some people for you to meet."

She took my arm, it felt like a leash, directing me to the group she was talking to earlier.

She whispered, "Be nice. That's Oliver. He's so hot."

I looked at her with betrayal when I said, "He's the one who didn't hold the door open."

She stopped walking, "And??? I love bad boys."

I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but think of Adrian. He wasn't even close to a bad boy. I don't think he's thrown a punch or argued with his parents. He made commitments. He made promises.

How can she like everyone? Everyone is her type? While I just attracted the bad seeds and am type blind. I didn't even know what I liked.

I whispered to her, "He said you have a great ass..."

Her eyes lit up and her smile only got bigger as she turned to the group with me in tow. She announced, "Guys, this is my best friend from Florida, Layla."

I tried to smile but it just looked like I was shy. It was true. I guess being yourself means vulnerable when your first instinct is to hide it.

I spoke a soft hey while Layla introduced the bunch clearly all friends with each other. You step into a sense of relaxation when everyone knows each other. Oliver, Caden, Aspen, Elizabeth, and Hailey. 3 guys and two girls. Seemed like our group back home. The one thing I couldn't pack with me.

There were always less girls in friend groups. Did our generation have an issue with platonic girl-boy relationships still? B would round them out. I was a third party not making a commitment to anything this soon.