I shouldn’t have come anyway. It’s pure stupidity on my part. I can’t believe that I’m wasting a night off, alone, at a party I didn’t want to come to in the first place. I sip my wine but it’s like acid on my tongue. I give up on the small plate of charcuterie I have in my hand too and place it on one of the empty tables in the corner of the room by the fireplace, which is roaring and making my back sweat.
“Can we move?” Shelby asks, her blue eyes looking pained. “I’m too hot on this side of the room. Maybe we can lurk by the windows.”
“Or we could go stand in our own apartments,” I suggest with eager eyes. “How about I go stand in my bathroom, while I draw a bubble bath and you go stand in your living room, watching the rest of that series you told me you had started marathoning.”
Shelby smiles. “I understand why that seems like a good option to you, but let’s give it at least until midnight. It’s only twenty minutes away. Then we can sneak out.”
“Fine. Whatever.” She takes my hand and pulls me over by the bay window that overlooks the ninth tee. “It was nice of you to come with me. As much as I hate being here I would have been in the seventh layer of hell without you.”
“As opposed to the fourth layer with me?” Shelby questions and grins. “Don’t thank me, when Con called and told me he was trapped by a cyclone bomb I couldn’t say no. He literally threatened my life if I didn’t help. But don’t worry, I would have never left you hanging.”
I take another sip of wine at the mention of my fake boyfriend. Conner had planned to be here, as he promised, and had texted me, the day after leaving me that note in the middle of the night. His team had a game in Minnesota on the thirtieth, but he told me he would be flying back to Maine that night, right after the game. His texts were brief and almost business-like, but they still took the sting off the way he'd disappeared in the middle of the night.
And then the doorbell rang as I was getting ready for this party and I just assumed it would be him. Between my shift at work and getting ready, I had been too busy to reach out. And I didn’t want to appear too desperate. But it was Shelby on the other side of my front door, not Conner. She was wearing a sparkly red dress, heels, and a sympathetic smile. “Conner sent me.”
And that's how I learned what a cyclone bomb was and that I should have probably looked at the weather in the Midwest. I tried to cancel and just stay home but Shelby insisted we go. Conner texted me and told me I had to do it, and that wherever he was, he would FaceTime me at midnight so TP could see how happy we were whether he was actually there or not.
I wanted to tell him not to bother, that this was getting ridiculous. We should just let the charade go, but Shelby was dressed up and well, it kind of felt like I had to play this out. But I’d spent the last two hours unhappy about it.
“Oh my gosh, why are you two hiding over here?”
And I was about to get unhappier. I look over to see Heather coming up to us with the biggest fake smile I’ve ever seen. Tenley’s Christmas tree looks more authentic. She stops dead in front of both of us. “You guys should be on the dance floor, like everyone else. The DJ is killer!”
Why does she have more enthusiasm than a cheerleader at a pep rally? Shelby sips her wine. “We’re good.”
I love the casual coolness Shelby always has. Nothing ever seems to get under her skin. I wish that was me. Heather turns to be, her brown eyes inquisitive. “Where’s Conner?”
“Stuck in a blizzard in Minnesota,” I tell her and her face drops into a frown as exaggerated as her smile was.
“Aw! That sucks,” she says in a way that is too upbeat and perky to get me to believe she thinks it actually sucks.
"Babe! There you are," Beckett's voice hits my eardrums and I have to bite back a groan. He sidles up to Heather and nods at Shelby but I get nothing more than the stare. He turns back to Heather, reaching for her hand right in front of me. It doesn't hurt to see like it would have months ago, but it's still awkward. "I need you upfront with me, I have to make an announcement."
“I was just consoling Mackenzie here. Her date bailed,” Heather tells Beckett.
“Conner is stuck in Minnesota. The airport is closed because of the weather,” Shelby pipes up for me. “He’s FaceTiming her at midnight though. Doesn’t want to let her start the year without him.”
Beckett’s expression dims and he looks back over at me. Still, he says nothing. I feel the animosity in his glare though. He’s loving being the victim in this. I hate that I made that up. I wanted to hurt him by making him think that I cheated on him first, but I didn’t realize it would let him off the hook for feeling bad for what he did to me. “I can’t believe anyone picked him up.”
“He’s a great player,” I say even though I haven’t actually watched one of his games, ever. But my dad used to sing Conner’s praises all the time.
“I heard the owner of the Riptide just wants to collect all the hometown players like trophies,” Heather tells us. “So it really doesn’t matter if he’s good anymore.”
“Riptide? What do the Portland Riptide have to do with Conner?”
Shelby’s face confirms I’ve fucked up. She leans in. “Con was picked up by Portland. He plays for the Riptide now.”
“I thought… he said Colorado…” I stutter.
Beckett gives me the most condescending smile. “Your boyfriend plays for the Riptide, Mackenzie. Are you telling me you don’t even know that? He didn’t tell you that?”
“I… I must have misunderstood,” I stutter. God, why am I so bad at lying?
Beckett has the balls to shake his head and make a tsk-tsk sound. “Poor Conner. Another reason to feel sorry for him.”
I open my mouth to tell him something. Like maybe just to go fuck himself, but before I can say a thing he and Heather have sauntered off. Shelby leans close to me, her eyes wide and a look of utter confusion on her face. “You didn’t know Con played for the for the Riptide? Really? How?”
“He said he was going to Colorado!”
“On a road trip,” Shelby clarifies. “And Minnesota is the second leg of the road trip. I thought you guys have been texting? Talking?”
Why did tonight have to become such a nightmare? I sigh and put my wine glass down, giving up on this night entirely. “He never clarified. And I didn’t google it or anything. I mean, I guess I should have.”
“The local paper had his face on the cover, and he was on the front page of the Portland Herald’s sports section,” Shelby explains and rubs my shoulder, giving a squeeze of support, but there’s no way to fix how stupid I looked in front of Beckett now.
“I didn’t even know Silver Bay had a paper,” I confess. “I mean who even reads papers anymore? I can’t believe I had to screw that up in front of Beckett of all people.”
“Ah, fuck him,” Shelby says consolingly. “His opinion doesn’t matter.”
"We've got five minutes to go until midnight, everyone!" Heather's voice comes over the speakers. She's standing by the DJ's set-up and someone has given her a microphone. "Find your special someone!"
“We should just go,” I say.
“But Con said he was going to call you,” Shelby replies.
“I’ll text him that I left. It’s fine.” I pause. “I mean, I can stay if you really want to…”
She grins. “Hell no, I’ve got the newest season of Bridgerton waiting for me on Netflix and my favorite fuzzy pajamas.” She hooks her arm through mine. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
We weave our way around tables, and past that stupid fireplace that’s making the whole place too warm, and around the massive Christmas tree in the corner. We’re seconds from freedom, moments from leaving this whole humiliating night behind when… Heather screams.
Okay, it's more of a squeal. It's piercing, and shrill, and draws the eyes of every single person in the room, including Shelby and me. There, in front of the DJ, is Heather with her hands in front of her open mouth, staring down at Becket who is on one knee in front of her. "I want to start the new year with a fiancée. What do you say, Heather?"
“Oh fuck no,” I hiss and charge out the doors.
I basically rip my coat off the hanger in the coat room and am halfway to the front door before Shelby catches me. “Are you okay? Jesus, that was… well, I mean it has to have sucked. Even if you’re over him.”
"Yeah. It sucked," I confirm as we step out of the golf club and into the frigid night. "Especially because I found that ring in his sock drawer and thought it might be for me at first until I also found a package of condoms.”
“Oh my God, Mac.” Shelby hugs me.
“It’s okay,” I promise her but I squeeze her back. “I mean it was one of the worst possible moments of my life at the time, but now… I honestly don’t think I give a fuck. At least it doesn’t break my heart or anything. I don’t love Beckett anymore. And I doubt he ever really loved me, so I dodged a bullet.”
Shelby squeezes my shoulder as she breaks the hug. “You wanna come over and watch Bridgerton with me? We can make popcorn and you can borrow some sweats and we can just forget this ever happened?”
“No. I just wanna go home, take a bath, and sleep,” I admit, and she nods.
Shelby looks like she might be a little bit worried about me. Like maybe I’m faking this indifference I’m feeling, but I don’t think I am. I’m kind of numb emotionally right now. As I was saying all the wrong things in front of my ex and then watching him propose to the woman he cheated on me with, it kind of felt like I was watching it on a really bad television drama or something. I just watched it all unfold and thought, somewhere in the back of my brain, yep this seems about right.
As Shelby waves goodbye and walks an aisle over from me to get in her car, a memory I've long tried to forget, and thought I'd succeeded, pops back into my head.
My very cruel fifth-grade teacher the second day I was at a school in Queens, where I had been enrolled after being placed with yet another foster family, said, 'You, Mackenzie have always been and will always be a have not, not a have. And the sooner you accept that the better off you'll be.'
I don’t remember why she said it to me. I just remember it was in front of the entire class. All these new kids who already didn't look at me, in my ratty clothes with my bad haircut and secondhand no-name sneakers, with kind eyes.
A shiver runs down my spine, cold and painful, and settles in the center of my rib cage as I force myself to finish walking to my car and get in the driver’s side. Inside there is a roar of cheers and yelling and I feel my phone buzz, the light from the screen shining through the thin fabric of the small satin purse. I dig it out and see Conner’s name. It’s a video call, just as promised.
I accept it, but I really don't want to face him right now. "Hey, princess. Happy New Year I miss you so mu… Are you there? I can barely see you. Why is it so dark? And quiet?"
“I’m in my car in the parking lot,” I mutter. “You can cut the act.”
He’s at the airport, I think. I can tell by the stark lighting and what looks like concrete walls and a gate sign behind him. His hazel eyes lock with mine and he narrows them trying to make out my features in the dim light. “So… it’s going well then?”
He grins, it’s pure sarcasm and I laugh. I laugh so hard I swear I start to tear up. He is chuckling too, but not nearly as hard as me. “I told them you played for Colorado.”
“What? Who? Why?” he questions, still smiling.
“Beckett and Heather, his fiancée,” I explain, wiping gently at my eyes to make sure my makeup isn’t sliding down my face. Not that it matters much. I’m just going to wash it off the second I get home, but if Conner can see a glimpse of me in this dark parking lot, I at least want it to be a nice sight. “You wrote on the note you left me that you had to go to Colorado and I thought it was because they picked you up. I never Googled it or anything and so…”
“And you don’t know the schedule, or follow the league so you had no idea,” Conner finishes for me. “Shit. I should have been more clear. I was rushing and excited. Sorry.”
"I should have figured it out. Anyway, I'm pretty sure our fake relationship looks fake to everyone now.” I sigh. “Or at the very least loose and non-committal. I mean, a serious girlfriend would know what team you were picked up by.”
“Wait… I’m sorry, but did you say fiancée?” When I nod Conner balks. “Since when?”
“He proposed right before midnight,” I croak out.
“In front of you?” He sounds truly horrified and for some reason it makes my humiliation feel deeper.
“It’s fine. Honestly.” I shake my head. “I have to go. I just want to get home.”
“Damn, Mac, I wish I was there. I really do.” He swears under his breath. “They say they may be able to get our flight off the ground in the next hour. The flight is almost five hours, but we don’t play tomorrow so if you want I can get back to Silver Bay somehow and come see you.”
I shake my head. “You’re sweet to offer but the gig is up with the fake relationship thing. Thank you for… well… all the shenanigans. For all the stuff we faked and the stuff we didn’t.”
"It was my pleasure," he replies but his voice is weird. So is his expression. He looks uncomfortable like he has something to say that he shouldn't. "So… that's it?"
“Well, I… yeah. I guess so.” I want to tell him that this doesn’t have to be it, that I don’t want it to be, but I’m… numb. I can’t put myself out there with him right now, seconds after making an ass of myself in front of my ex and watching him propose to someone else. Maybe in the light of day when this night is over. “I should get going. I need to drive home. Night Conner. Safe travels.”
“Thanks. Goodnight, princess.”
“I told you, I’m no princess.”
"Whatever you say, princess."
“Argh. Night.” I hang up but I’m smiling, which is amazing because I definitely didn’t think I’d be capable of that tonight.
I tuck my phone back into my bag and place it on the seat beside me. The windows of the car have fogged up from me sitting here blabbering so I wipe at the windshield and punch the start button.
Nothing happens.
I punch it again.
The only thing that changes is the smile on my face. It disintegrates.