{ Chapter 8 } : In My Corner, He Is "This is good therapy for all of us." Layla directed a glare at Gabby, and I ignored them as I took a sip of my captain and coke - a harsh change from my usual plain soda. Gabby let her hands slaps loudly against her thighs in defeat. "I give up. I'm trying really hard here, but you guys are leaving me nothing to work with." Against my better judgement and protests, I allowed myself to be dragged to Danny's Grill again. Not that I didn't want to hang out with my friends. I just didn't want to be here specifically. I'd resulted in an alcoholic beverage to make the night bearable. A real shocker, considering the last time I had a drop of alcohol was almost a year ago. For so long I'd been a lone wolf that now big crowds made me anxious and hard to be around. "There's nothing to fix," Layla said and shot a curly fry at Gabby. "We were best friends then, and we will always be friends." Then Layla proceeded to give me an amending smirk that was a little on the guilty side as she brushed her shoulder length hair aside. The second Gabby heard of the little fallout between Layla and I, she'd taken it upon herself to make everything right. Even though Layla and I were back on good terms, she'd deemed this little outing necessary. As far as I was concerned "Best Friend Therapy" was some bullshit she'd made up on the spot so she could force us to a bar and hunt down all the available meat. No doubt about her intentions whatsoever. Nothing had changed though. Just like Layla said. We were still the same. Gabby was being crass and Layla was getting peeved. I was brooding. The usual. "So want to talk about your latest boy toy, Lay?" Gabby sing-songed. Heat engulfed a better part of Layla's face. "What are you talking about?" Gabriela surveyed the crowd over the rim of her glass as she took a healthy swig, not meeting Layla's stare. "Joshua Brown." I bit my lip, deciding not to jump in. If I added more fuel to the fire right now, it would only create a bigger fire. Gabby was an inferno on her own. "How's fucking him?" she asked casually, still pushing her luck. Poor Layla looked like she was about to puke her guts out all over the table. "And please, don't even think of sparing me the dets. Let me live vivaciously through you. Put an end to my dry spell, Lays. I'm begging you." "I haven't...slept with him." Gabby made her eyes mock-wide. "No kidding. Well that's a goddamn shame. I came close to screwing him once, did I ever tell you that?" This time I almost spat out my drink . Layla blanched and her eyes narrowed a fraction. Then Gabriela laughed good-naturedly and the tension coiled tightly between us unfurled. "Kidding again." Gabriela's eyes crinkled at the corners as she grinned deviously. "I fucked his friend." "I'm relieved, shithead." Layla rolled her eyes and shoved Gabby just a little in the shoulder - enough to move her an inch away from the bench. "And I have no interest in hearing this friend of his that you slept with." "Oh, there was no sleeping involved..." I drowned out the rest of their conversation. My eyes roamed the crowded pub. The regular patrons lingered by the bar side and as per usual, I spotted a huge lot of senior students from Northwind High. Most were busy playing billiard and poker whilst some mingled over drinks. Danny's Grill was rumbling with lively energy. My eyes automatically fixated on a pool table by the corner of the room - the same one where I last saw Sam. At the thought of him, my gaze frantically searched his amongst a sea of bodies. But he wasn't here tonight. And why that thought filled me with disappointment, I didn't even want to freaking know. I was supposed to be avoiding him. Hell, I was avoiding him. But the one place I expected to see him, and he wasn't even there. He kept popping up everywhere I was, and now he was popping up in my thoughts, too. This wasn't good. While I was in the middle of debating why thinking about Samuel Adams wasn't a good thing, Gabby's amusement filled voice trickled through and swiftly cut my train of thoughts. "So, Anna." Her and Layla were watching me with matching expression. Up-to-no-good expressions with raised eyebrows, that is. "You fucked any new hot guys lately?" * * * I was by the bar when my second glass of Captain and Coke was done. My two best friends had studied me, dumfounded, when I quickly excused myself and weaved my way across the packed pub so I could get a refill. The truth was that I had two extremities; either I didn't drink, or I drank too much. There was no in between. White or Black. No grey. Tonight I seemed to be leaning more towards the latter after a year of drinking-hiatus. When the bartender who's name tag read Cade - an extremely cute one who was a little on the moody side - had refilled my glass, I felt a soft touch on my shoulder. At first I'd ignored it and chalked it down to a figment of my imagination. Until the pressure grew firmer. I was forced to shoot a glance over my shoulder. A guy stood behind me. He was familiar. Very familiar. It took a few seconds for it to all come rushing back to me. "Anna," he said pleasantly, and a small smile curled his lips. I blinked. Then a grin stretched over my lips as soon as realization sunk in. "Troy." He extended his arms like we were good friends and the gesture automatically put me at ease. I looped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a quick hug.