ADORA - 20 DAYS AGO

Mark doesn't notice me. Well, he notices me, but not really. It doesn't matter that I showed up on a motorcycle wearing his friend's jacket. It doesn't matter that both my dress and my breath are a bit too short.

He doesn't react when I sit next to Eric.

The bar is full. People are mingling around. Music is blasting through the speakers. Our table is packed, there's no privacy. Graham Koch sits on the other end, dressed in his usual black suit, a smug smile etched to his lips, his friend Josh Wright next to him. Josh is classically handsome, almost like a Ken doll. There's a girl there, too, one I can't quite place, but I'm sure I've seen her on campus. She clutches her white dress and her cheeks are flushed. Her blonde hair is hiding her blue doll-like eyes.

Katie sits close to Mark, drooling all over him. Katie is slim and tall; her hair is straight and dyed black, her face is skinny and long, her Botox-filled lips thick and plump. She's also a huge skank.

Hours are ticking away. I feel a combination of nervousness and tension. On one hand, Mark's lack of interest cuts through me like a razorblade. I want to scream at him, I want to punch him. On the other, Eric's leaned towards my chair, his elbow bumping into mine, and I'm all too aware of his proximity.

No one else is allowed in our conversation. But our conversation transcends our words. On the surface, we're talking about life and everything that's happened since the last time we talked. Underneath, Eric is testing my boundaries.

How far are we going this time, Adora? His knee bumps into mine and when I don't move away, I give him his answer.

"You said you had to pay off your dad's debts." Eric says. "What happened?"

I'm drinking rum with coke. The sweetness masks the liquor's sting. My mind is blurring rapidly and my insides are turning into mush.

"My dad's a gambler." I lean against the backrest. "Two years ago, my grandfather on my mother's side and I took control of the company. Dad agreed, he knew he had a problem, so he handed the reins to us."

Surprise flickers in Eric's eyes, "You ran a multimillion-dollar company when you were nineteen?"

I chuckle, "Well, it was mostly a PR stunt. Beautiful daughter has to run her father's company to pay off his debt. But I worked like hell, especially since we had to cut some staff. My grandpa and the board of directors took care of the business itself. It's all working out."

"Is it?" His eyes are too protruding, they're slicing my soul in half.

"Mostly." I can feel my body turning towards him on its own. "I've paid off everyone he owed. He's gone to therapy, so I guess we'll be fine."

"That's impressive." Eric's eyes are honest. "But I've never doubted your abilities."

I can't help the smile, "Now you're just flirting."

"What if I am?" He grins.

My breath hitches. There's a rule between us, a silent rule, and that is that we never ever talk about or admit what's happening between us. We never reach that point.

So, I try to ignore the meaning of the words, but there's a serious glint in his humorous eyes, there's something hiding behind the nonchalance.

I decide to change the subject, "Are you still dealing?"

"What if I am?" He repeats, but the humour is gone.

"Nothing." I squeeze my fingers.

Eric has been dealing weed since I met him. I'm pretty sure he's dealing other stuff now, too. He's never had a real job; he's always danced on the edge of the law. It attracted me in that terrible, self-destructive, forbidden way.

"Worried about me?" Eric's hand rests on my chair.

There's the game again, the silent conversation.

"What if I am?" I repeat Eric's words and he simply chuckles and shakes his head, brushing off my remarks.

My heart is pounding in my chest, sending alcohol faster and faster through my veins. Mark is busy talking to Katie and Josh. He's on his sixth beer. Josh is on his God-knows-which glass of whiskey and he looks like he might faint. That other girl, the blonde one whose name I can't remember, looks tired and uncomfortable, especially with Graham way too close to her.

Katie blabs about some vacation and it's this particular conversation that finally catches my attention.

"So, when?" Katie claps her hands. "May? June? May might be better, cause of exams!"

I frown, "What vacation?" The words slip out of my mouth on their own and I lean forward, escaping Eric's proximity.

My boyfriend looks at me, "Bali."

I lean even closer and lower my voice, "We were supposed to go alone."

"Oh, come on, it'll be just Katie and Graham, maybe Jimmy and Melissa. And Alex and Lexi, probably." He grins. "It'll be fun!"

"But we agreed we'd go alone." I say through my teeth.

"Come on, Adora!" Katie drags, she's wasted. "We won't even be in the same apartment!"

I chuckle humourlessly and lean back against the backrest, "Fine."

"Bali will be fun." Eric murmurs with a smile.

"Oh, shut up, Slade." I cross my hands on my chest.

It's not good, the situation I'm in isn't safe at all. Everything around me is pushing me to the edge and I've had just the right amount of rum and coke to allow myself to fall.

Eric pulls back a little; he's sensed my boundaries.

"I should go home." I tell him quietly, everyone else is shouting too much to hear me anyway.

Eric understands me, "Do you want me to call you a cab? Do you want me to drive you home?"

"I said I should go home, not that I want to." I wash my words down with some rum.

But Eric already tenses. It's an acknowledgement, a confession he didn't expect. It's a leap in our silent game, a huge step forward.

"I don't have to drive you home." Eric's eyes drop on my naked thighs. "I can drive you anywhere you want."

Oh, God.

"Maybe some other time, Slade." I try to brush it off with a chuckle, but he can see through me.

I'm tense, my blood is pounding against my veins, heat is gathering around my temples.

When his fingers brush my back, feather-light and soft, I swallow a huge gulp of rum and coke. His touch startles me, it's almost too much and I almost pull away. But in the last moment I let him draw lazy circles across my back.

"Whenever you want." His murmur is quiet, barely audible.

I take a deep breath and order another drink. I have to get out of here. I know I do, but God help me, I don't want to.

Mark is busy trying to outdrink Josh. Both of them look like cavemen, liquor sliding over their chins and onto their shirts. I need a distraction; I need something to busy me. Eric's fingers move away from me the moment he senses people might see.

"Hey," I call the blonde girl, "What's your name?"

Her eyes widen like I just woke her up, "Me? Elaine."

"Are they boring you, Elaine?" I ask.

The girl looks at Josh, who suddenly remembers she's there and pulls her towards him, "No- no, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" I push. "I've been drinking with these Neanderthals one too many times and I know just how insufferable they can get. I can call you a cab."

"No need for that, Adora." Graham cuts in, his dark eyes narrowing to slits. "My driver will pick us up whenever Elaine wants to go."

"You sure?" I focus on the girl.

She nods and offers a small, shy smile, "It's fine."

Josh suddenly stands up, "I'm gonna throw up." He runs to the bathroom.

I roll my eyes at Mark, "Your friend is going to faint."

"Nah, he's fine." Mark slurs and laughs too loudly, "I think we're gonna call it a night, though."

"Probably for the best." Katie laughs. "I am wasted!"

"I should go home, too." Elaine says quietly. "It's late."

My heartbeat picks up the pace. This is it, my last chance. Everyone's about to leave.

"I'm going to call my driver." Graham takes out his phone. "We'll drop Josh off too. Do you want some water?"

Elaine nods, "Please."

Graham leaves the table.

Josh doesn't look good when he returns from the bathroom. His face is borderline green. I wonder how many different substances he consumed tonight.

Blood is pumping through my veins. Eric is quiet, so am I. The conversation between us halts, waiting for someone to make the next move.

"Alright, time to go." Mark takes out his wallet and drops a couple of hundreds on the table, without even consulting the bill. "Adora, you coming?"

Thousands of thoughts cross my mind in a fast blur. Silence pounds in my ear. Or is that my heartbeat?

"No." I plaster an innocent smile, "I've already texted Robert, he'll pick me up soon."

Robert is my driver who's probably soundly sleeping in his bed.

"Alright." Mark shrugs and takes his coat. "Don't forget to join me in the gym tomorrow. I need you to check my form."

"Sure." My smile is too thin, my fingers are crushing the glass.

Eric doesn't seem to breathe next to me. He didn't expect me to lie. Lying is too real. If I lie to Mark, it means that whatever's happening between Eric and me is real.

Josh is barely standing; he looks like he's about to throw up some more. Elaine chugs her glass of water. They grab their stuff and leave the bar at the same time.

The moment they're gone, tension between Eric and me doubles. His fingers brush against my back again, this time more purposefully, shamelessly.

"They sure can't handle their liquor." He whispers, but the conversation loses it's potency.

The main medium of communication are now our bodies.

"And I can?" My laugh is strained against the rim of my glass. I can't handle my own heartbeat anymore.

We're jumping steps in our game.

"I like your nails." Eric takes my hand in his and turns it around. The deep red colour stares at me. I barely catch his words, I'm caught in his touch.

"I did them myself." I'm aware of the futility of this conversation, but Eric's fingers are still creating circles all over my back and I can't believe such a soft touch can cause such a reaction.

My body is now fully turned to him. Our drinks are forgotten on the table. Music is blasting around us. Moments tick away, moments during which my boyfriend is getting further and further away from the bar.

Eric's thumb brushes the back of my hand, his dark eyes are roaming over my body.

"Eric," My tone shifts, turns serious, "I have a boyfriend."

The game stops here and now. This is real.

"Uh-huh." He hums and brushes the strand of my hair away from my face.

I eye him under my eyelashes, "And that boyfriend is your friend."

"Uh-huh." Eric looks straight into my eyes.

My heart trashes against my ribcage, "Not here."

We stumble through the bar, drinks forgotten, time forgotten. I've imagined this scenario hundreds of times in my head. But I could never imagine how I'd feel. And I feel the sweetest combination of trouble, excitement and desire.

It's at the entrance to the bathroom, hidden from view by dozens and dozens of dancing bodies, where he finally leans me against the wall and kisses me.

His lips are warm and intoxicating. Relief and desire crash through me. Our movements turn to blur. I'm barely aware of his hands roaming over my waist, the small of my back, my thighs. Whiskey coats his tongue.

Eric lifts me against the wall, his bulge pressing between my legs, the fabric of his jeans too rough on my soft flesh. His teeth are nibbling my lower lip, trailing down my jaw, my neck, my cleavage. My fingers are in his hair. Heat dances in the pit of my stomach.

I'm lost, broken, undone.

A wave of fear swipes away the desire. Realisation spreads through my mind. I'm making out with my boyfriend's friend against the bathroom wall in a pub.

"Wait, wait." I grab his cheeks and pull him off my boobs. There's a borderline ravenous glint in his dark eyes, he doesn't appreciate the interruption. "We have to stop. Now."

Eric steps away, but he's not too happy about it, "Do you want to go home?"

"Yes." I nod, trying to decipher his gaze. It's still bathing in want, but there's annoyance underneath. "Please."

"Alright." His hands drop by his sides. "I'll call you a cab."

I note that he doesn't offer to drive me home, which is probably for the best. I follow through the crowd, trying to shake off the need to kiss him again, the need to take him back to my dorm room. I can already feel tomorrow's regret, I know this is a mistake, yet I'd already repeat it.

Eric flings the door of the bar open and steps into cold air. He lights a cigarette. His leg taps against the asphalt. Wind whooshes through his hair. As we wait for the cab, an uncomfortable silence, filled with desire and lust, settles between us.

"I'm sorry." I hug myself.

"Why?" He lets out a laugh. "You got to cheat on your boyfriend a little and I got to make out with my friend's girlfriend. All's good."

"Is it?" I ask.

Eric throws the barely touched cigarette away when his phone pings. The cab is here.

"Why wouldn't it be?" He doesn't look at me. "Goodnight, Adora."

"Eric..." I don't have to finish the sentence; my teeth chewing on my bottom lip and my tight jaw speak loudly enough.

Eric's smile is tense, "Don't worry. I won't tell if you won't tell, sugar."