I ran over in my mind what I’d practiced to say to him, wringing my hands together. It was cold outside, but I barely felt it.
He ended the call and turned as if he planned on heading back inside.
My heart thudded hard in my chest. Now or never.
“Craig?”
He looked at me expectantly, and I waited a moment in case my tenth imaginary scenario came true and he would kiss me before I said anything.
Nope.
“Hi,” I said, not sure how to start despite all my rehearsing.
“Hi.” He hesitated, and then his eyes lit up. “Wait, I remember you! The lady scientist. Catalina, right?”
That felt a little like being stabbed. “No, that was my friend. I’m Anna.”
I expected him to say something else, but he didn’t.
His phone buzzed. “Sorry, give me a second.” He smiled, and I wished I was the reason why. He started texting, his thumbs flying across the screen. “This is a buddy of mine who went to USC, and he thinks he can trash-talk my alma mater.”
“Like me!”
Craig looked confused.
“I went to USC. Remember?”
His confusion deepened.
I tried again. “You jumped me?”
Now he looked worried, and I realized that the other connotations of those words were negative. “Two years ago. My car died in the parking lot. You brought your truck over and gave me a jump.”
I’d stayed late that night, and my cell phone had died. I thought I was the last person there, but then Craig had come by in his truck and asked if I needed help. He had been my knight in a white Ford.
He could have called for someone else to come and assist me, but he’d stayed and made sure that I got off safely. He had asked where I’d gone to school and I told him USC, as they had a great cosmetic chemist program. He had made an unfunny and semi-inappropriate joke about USC’s mascot, which I’d felt obligated to laugh at because he was being so nice. We had a great conversation after that, and I’d fallen fast and hard for him.
“Oh! Right!” he said, but I saw in his eyes and heard in his voice that he had no idea what I was talking about. It had been a seminal moment for me, and he hadn’t registered it at all.
My heart squeezed painfully, and I put my hand against a window for support.
His phone beeped this time, and he looked at it. “I have to go. I’ve got to find someone. I hope I don’t get lost. It’s pretty dark in there!” He said it in a teasing tone.
I should have kept quiet. I already felt like such a fool, but I had to go and make it worse. “May the light of E?rendil guide you.”
Craig gave me that look, the one I’d seen so many times throughout my life, and I wanted to kick myself. Still not able to stay quiet, I added, “You know, to be a light for you in dark places when all other lights go—”
But he was already walking away, throwing a “bye” over his shoulder. So much for that dance. And when was I going to stop making Lord of the Rings references to people who had no idea what I was talking about?
Part of my imaginary scenarios had included Craig loving the movies as much as I did. At the very least, I’d hoped he’d watched them.
None of this was going how I’d planned. I stood there, shivering slightly as the cold started to seep in against my skin, wondering what I should do next.
A few minutes passed, and I finally went back inside, feeling very unsure. Someone tapped on the DJ’s microphone. It was Craig.
And he was standing next to a woman who looked like she’d been drawn by a very randy fifteen-year-old boy. She was perfection. Blonde hair, perfect curves, gleaming skin and teeth.
Craig had his arm around her. They looked like Ken and Barbie.
My stomach dropped to my knees.
“Excuse me!” he called out. “If I could have everyone’s attention!” The dull roar of the partygoers quieted down.
“Thank you! This will only take a moment. Since both of our families are here, and the employees of this company are like my second family, I just wanted to let everyone know that I’ve asked Leighton to be my wife and she said yes!”
The whole room broke into applause and cheers, but I just stood there.
Craig was engaged.
Engaged.
The waitress from earlier walked by with an entire bottle of champagne. “Can I have that?” I asked her.
She handed it to me sympathetically, but I made my way through the ballroom doors and looked for the closest bathroom. I went in and collapsed against the far wall, sliding down to the floor. I took a big swig of alcohol.
Craig was engaged. I was too late. I was also pathetic and very, very ridiculous in this stupid costume. I had really thought he’d see me and swoon. That we’d get our happily ever after.
Then the tears started, and the mascara Catalina had made was most definitely not waterproof. Not tearproof, anyway. Although she probably hadn’t anticipated somebody trying to cry out all of their internal fluids through their eyeballs. I’d have to tell her to increase the amount of dimethicone copolyol to make it more moisture resistant tomorrow when I—
I wasn’t going to see Catalina tomorrow.
Taking off my glasses and putting them in my lap, I drank and cried, drank and cried, until I was very thoroughly wasted.
Which was another thing to add to the list of stupid things I’d done today, because I didn’t know how I was going to get home. I couldn’t exactly call an Uber given my lack of funds. I tried to call Catalina, but my phone wasn’t working properly, and I couldn’t dial her number. My grandparents were out of the question.
The bathroom door swung open, and I heard a man’s voice say, “Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” I cried. That seemed like a dumb question.
There was a pause. I couldn’t really see him because the dripping mascara was blurring my vision. That and I was not wearing my glasses.
“Are you aware of the fact that you’re in the men’s bathroom?” he asked.
“I’m in the men’s bathroom?”
“The urinals didn’t tip you off?”
I hadn’t been paying attention to anything other than the fact that the love of my life was about to marry someone else. “I didn’t see them. I’m very drunk!” I protested.
“I can see that. One too many?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “One or a whole bottle too many.”
He didn’t respond right away and then asked, “Do you want me to go and protect the door?”
Trying to blink, I asked, “Why does the door need protection?”
Another pause. “I mean, I could stand outside and keep people out. So you can . . . cry in peace.”
“I don’t want to be alone,” I said and realized that it was true. I usually preferred being solitary, but right now it wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t call Catalina, since my fingers weren’t working and because there would be so many I told you sos all over the place, and my grandma would tell me how disappointed she was and that I had to stop living my life for a man, which wasn’t even what I was doing. My grandpa would tell me to pet Meryl Cheep until I felt better, but that wouldn’t help.
“That’s . . . a lot,” the man said, and I realized I’d said everything out loud instead of in my head, like I’d intended.