Chapter 20 Closure
The ride was awkward.
Lala had retreated into her safe space, staring out the tinted window with her earbuds in, probably replaying every decision that led her into the backseat of Omar Delaney's Douchemobile. Ally, on the other hand, was in her own world giggling, kicking her legs, and typing furiously to that mystery pervert she was probably falling in love with.
And me? I was stuck in the front seat with Omar, feeling his eye-glimpses scraping against the side of my face every few seconds like he was trying to lure me into conversation with sheer ego alone.
His car smelled like stale leather, arrogance, and whatever overpriced cologne he bathes in, and his shirt was just tight enough to say I do bicep curls at the office.
He cleared his throat.
"Sooo..." he said, dragging the word out like it owed him money. "What have you been up to?"
I shrugged, keeping my voice calm. "Nothing much. Just trying to settle into my life and make two ends meet."
"I see..." His smirk grew, slow and oily. "Well, if you didn't dump me, we probably would've been engaged by now." He chuckled softly, so proud of himself it made me nauseous. "Or maybe you'd already be Mrs. Omar Delaney. And then you wouldn't have to work so hard. Or at all. I would've taken care of you financially."
I turned and stared at him. "At what cost? My happiness?" I hissed under my breath so the girls wouldn't hear.
He scoffed like I was being dramatic. "Are you still mad at me?"
"Look," I said, exhaling slowly. "I forgave you for what you did. But that doesn't mean I forgot. You cheated on me with someone you claimed you met randomly at the bank. If I didn't accidentally open your laptop and see that nasty video, I would've never known."
He grimaced. "Please don't dwell on that. I already told you, I was weak and—"
"Sexually frustrated," I cut in sharply. "Yes. You said that already. But do you know what you've never said?" I waited for him to meet my eyes. "You've never said you're sorry for hurting me."
His mouth opened then closed. For once in his life, he had nothing to say.
Good.
"Just drive, Omar," I said coolly, turning back toward the window. "Let's get this night over with. And just so we're clear, regardless of whatever Alecia told you, this is not a date. We are not going to this thing together. Get that in your thick head."
The temperature in the car dropped instantly. Omar's jaw tightened, and a wave of coldness rolled off him so hard I almost wondered if he was trying to freeze me out of existence.
I didn't care.
I watched the trees blur past, green streaks smudging into the fading evening light. I felt the last string tying me to him finally, finally snap. And I felt free.
By the time Omar pulled up near the arena, the entire street looked like someone had dropped a music festival into the middle of a parade. Thousands of people crowded the sidewalks, screaming and laughing while glitter and confetti floated through the air. Vendors lined the curb, yelling over one another as they waved glow sticks and questionable official band merchandise. Cars were honking nonstop as they tried and failed to squeeze through the chaos.
A giant digital sign blinked aggressively:
PARKING LOT FULL. TURN AROUND, SUCKER.
"Shit," Omar grunted, gripping the steering wheel so tight I thought he'd leave fingerprints in it.
"Maybe you can park down that alley right there," Ally said, pointing ahead while still giggling at whatever filth her online pervert was sending her.
Omar squinted. "I don't know... maybe I can use one of the other business lots around here."
"And risk getting fined or towed?" I asked. "Please. They don't tow around here, they kidnap your car. You'll have to pay ransom to get it back."
"Just park the damn car," Ally scolded. "I need to be inside now."
"Fine." Omar jerked the wheel. "But someone needs to get down and secure our spot."
Before he could complain again, I unbuckled. "Let me do. I'll go secure our spot in line."
"I'll come with you," Lala said, already popping out an earbud and taking a steadying breath like she was psyching herself up for combat.
We squeezed out of the car, nearly trampled by a group of girls wearing fairy wings and glitter bras. Omar sped off dramatically, like the alley was his destiny.
Lala and I pushed through bodies and glitter until we reached a security guard standing near the first checkpoint. He was a big guy with soft eyes, the kind of man who definitely grilled on weekends and called everyone buddy.
"Hi," I said, holding out our tickets.
"Good evening, little ladies," he smiled as he scanned them, then blinked. "Oh—these are special tickets, ma'am."
"Special?" I echoed, worried for a second that he meant fake.
"There were only twenty of these printed," he said. "You're in the VVIP line. It's over there, but the guard working that section, Connor, is on his bathroom break. He should be back any minute."
"Oh thank God," I said, relieved that Omar hadn't accidentally purchased counterfeit paper.
He pointed us toward a roped-off area along the wall. "Just stand over there so you don't get trampled by the main crowd."
"Trampled?" Lala squeaked.
"Only if you stay here," he said cheerfully.
Lala and I walked over and tucked ourselves safely to the side. I handed her the tickets since my tiny purse barely had room for chapstick, let alone VIP credentials. We stood there chitchatting while she nervously twisted a curl around her finger.
"What if I sweat through this sweater?" she whispered.
"Then you'll be a warm, moist nerd," I said. "But still adorable."
She elbowed me, finally cracking a smile.
And then everything changed.
Something cold wrapped around my upper arm. It was so sudden and so firm that the breath was punched right out of me. Before I could scream, I was yanked backward with unbelievable force. The world tilted and blurred. The crowd disappeared behind me in a smear of color.
"SHELBY!" Lala screamed, her voice cracking as she lunged forward.
But I was already gone.