A Life Less Average

twenty-seven

lewis 

Rebecca was waiting outside the guy's toilets when I came out, wiping my wet hands on my trousers. The hand-dryer had been busted and all the cubicles had been full, so I couldn't grab any toilet roll to dry my hands. 

"Hey you," she said. 

"Rebecca. What are you doing?" I asked, looking behind me. Stalking the men's toilets was just straight up weird. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice her lurking in the shadows. 

"I need to talk to you." 

I resisted making a sarcastic comment. I was getting bored of her forgiveness and fake moods. We had had half a dozen conversations. There was no way that she was that into me. She didn't know anything about me, for God's sake. 

"Then talk." 

"Not here." 

I couldn't hide the journey my eyes made around their sockets. This was exhausting.

"Outside."

She took my hand and led me through the crowd towards the smoking area. The small courtyard seemed busier than inside, and the music was being played through small speakers that contorted the music into tinny noise.

She parked us next to a group of guys who were mostly smoking. I noticed another with an e-cigarette, breathing out gallons of vapour that clouded their entire group with every exhale.

"What is it Rebecca?" I asked impatiently. 

"I just feel like you should know, since she has no intention of ever telling you."

"What are you talking about?" I asked loudly. 

She hesitated, shrinking back as my shout silenced those around us. But I knew Rebecca. She liked to dangle information in front of people like a steak to a lion. She was going to tease me with her knowledge until I gave her something.

"Actually, no," she shook her head. "It doesn't matter. You seem so happy." 

I turned to walk away, done with whatever this had been. My reaction hadn't been part of her plan and she reached for my arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong. I turned back, eyebrows raised expectantly. 

"Poppy's cheating on you." There was sadness in her eyes, as though it actually pained her to tell me. But I didn't believe me. 

"Rebecca, stop it." 

She shrugged. "Ask the bartender. He seems to know a lot about your girlfriend." 

"You're embarrassing yourself," I told her, pulling my wrist out of her grip. 

Her arm fell to her side and she stood in a haze of vapour, her expression unchanging. 

"Ask him," she said, pushing the doubt further into my chest. 

I shook my head. She was lying. It was what she did. Manipulated people to get what she wanted. 

I headed back inside, leaving her in the smoking area. I didn't look back. Didn't know if she was following me or not. I guessed she would. To see how the next few minutes panned out. Would my relationship, still in its infancy, implode, or would I ignore her claims completely? 

The humidity inside hit me hard. The air was filled with sweat and body spray. I coughed, fighting my way through the crowd of people lingering by the doorway where the cool breeze from outside was dripping through the open door.