Lance rubbed the back of his back and gave her a sheepish smile.
"My-um..girlfriend," he confirmed. Vanessa was silent, as if someone had ripped out her vocal cords.
This couldn't be true. His girlfriend? Why did it always seem as though life threw her a fast ball when she was prepared for a curve?
[How could he do this to me? He was about kiss me!] Vanessa angrily thought.
"And what was that all about!? When were you going to inform me about her? After you got me pregnant!?" Vanessa furiously exclaimed. Lance's pink cheeks ripened to a brick red.
"Look, I-I don't know. I guess I got caught up in the moment," he blatantly lied. Anger overtly flashed like violent lighting bolts in his best friend's hurt eyes.
"Caught up in the moment? I thought you were different from other guys. I guess I was wrong. You're just like the rest of them; an asshole," Vanessa disgustedly spat out.
"An asshole? Look, you wanted the truth and that's what I said. Don't get pissed because you can't handle that," Lance defended. Vanessa clamped her mouth shut, tightly clenching her teeth.
Her eyes filled with tumescent, unshed tears. Lance's sudden anger immediately blew away with the wind at the site of her. He hated seeing her in pain, especially if he was the source of it. He reached for her hand but as though she had touched a scalding hot surface, Vanessa flinched, yanking her hand away.
"Nessa-"
"Hey baby!" a whiny voice exclaimed. Vanessa quickly smeared away the crystal tears rolling down her cheeks and forced on a smile.
"Oh, hey Bridget," Lance greeted, his voice void of any emotion. Vanessa gazed up at the tall, lanky woman in front of her.
[So, this is the famous Bridget], she amusingly thought.
Bridget Prayleen towered over Vanessa at 5''10, with chin-length, bleached blond hair, rarely seen on anyone but a Barbie. Her blue eyes, the color of brand-new denim jeans, swept over the scene before her and landed on Vanessa, giving her look of forced politeness. She had a splattering of honey colored freckles across bother cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
Bridget was wearing a cropped, white halter top by Abercrombie and Fitch, that was almost as light as her peaches and cream skin complexion. For pants, she was wearing a pair of low-rise, Ralph Lauren, dark jeans so tight, they resembled two, obese leeches sucking the life out of her thighs. On her feet, were Steve Madden, stiletto heels.
Vanessa inwardly cringed.
[How could Lance love such a plastic doll?]
Bridget then squeezed in the space between Lance and Vanessa, turning her whole body to block Vanessa.
"Sweetie, why didn't you return my call? I was really worried," she sugarly confessed. Vanessa bit her bottom lip, forcing back the mean-spirited comment urging its way to the surface; Bridget's voice sounded like a cross between a dying cat and a Backstreet Boy who hadn't hit puberty yet.
In more simpler terms, Bridget's voice was annoying, squeaky and possessed enough power to make anyone in a three mile radius pine to drive their car straight into a tree. Lance threw Vanessa an apologetic smile then turned to Bridget.
"I'm sorry, I had my phone turned off," Lance explained. Bridget grinned and began rubbing his leg with her foot.
"Uh..Bridget, this is Vanessa", Lance quickly introduced. Bridget slowly faced Vanessa, then leaned into Lance, a triumphant grin glued on her face.
"Hello, Vanessa," she greeted, as if she were the Queen of Sheeba, greeting one of her subjects. Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"Hi, Bridget. So you're the lucky girl Lance chose to date?" Vanessa sarcastically asked. Bridget gave her an airy laugh.
"Date? No, no, no. Didn't he tell you, Lance and I are engaged!" Bridget crisply corrected. All the color drained from Vanessa's face.
[Girlfriend? Now fiance? Am I missing something!] she thought.
"Engaged? But?" Vanessa hoarsely began. Bridget smirked and brought out her left hand. Vanessa's eyes immediately locked on the enormous Tiffany's diamond, engagement ring present on her enemy's bony finger.
Vanessa abruptly stood up. She was feeling as though she'd been on a plane. Then suddenly, it was speeding toward the earth; nothing to stop the fall. Her heart ached tablespoons of raw emotions; the only thing she could think of was to escape. The world was rapidly spinning as the words echoed in her head, like they had been bouncing off the Grand Canyon.
She was in a room; trapped and all four walls were closing in on her, until they would eventually, greedily swallow her whole.
"I-um-I'm sorry but I just realized I need to talk to um, Gillian. I'll talk to you later, Lance. Nice meeting you, Bridget," Vanessa mumbled, frantically sprinting to the stairs. Lance watched her depart, tuning out all the sounds around him.
[God, why am I such an idiot sometimes? Shit, I've probably lost her forever. Good going, Lance], he scolded.
"Baby, is something wrong?" Bridget sweetly asked, the back of her hand running down his cheek. Her gold-chain bracelet lightly scratched his skin.
Lance shook his head.
"No."
"Oh, c'mon. I can tell something's wrong. It's all in your eyes," Bridget scoffed.
"I guess you can, huh? It's nothing, really. But I've suddenly gotten this overwhelming feeling that I've lost something I can probably never replace."
*~*~*~*~*
The cool, night air kissed her bare skin as she barged out the exit door, head bowed, heart torn in two.
"God, what is wrong with me!! Why am I suddenly acting like I'm in love with him? But why was he going to kiss me when he's freakin engaged!?" Vanessa thought aloud; perplexed. The door shut with a bang as loud as a gunshot as Vanessa beheld the scene before her. She was in some kind of alley, outside the club.
A dumpster stood before her, overflowing with garbage. The dim light of the street lamps spilled into the alley, creating shadows. She sighed and leaned against the dirt encrusted wall, folding her arms over her chest. A tear rolled down her cheek, splattering on the ground, the site of Lance and Bridget cuddling, infesting and plaguing her mind like a paralyzing disease.
"I never thought he'd actually kiss me for something other than a joke, right? He'd never see me as a girlfriend; just his little sister. But how can I change that? Or do I even want to change that?" she mused.
"I don't know who this guy is but whoever it is, he's an idiot," a male voice interjected. Vanessa let out a yelp of surprise, then relaxed as the owner of the voice stepped into view.
"Oh, hey Justin," Vanessa greeted with relief. He gave her a warm smile.
"Sorry to overhear your, um, conversation. I was outside, finishing up my call with Brit when you came out here," he explained. Vanessa waved it off.
"Naw, that's aight. You didn't hear anything really important," she reassured.
"Oh? From the way you were talking, I'd say it was," Justin teased, concern in his eyes. Vanessa shrugged, too emotionally drained to keep the earlier event a denied secret.
"I guess you could say that. But this guy-he's so confusing. He'll do one thing but say something completely opposite!" Vanessa shouted, not bothering to hide her frustration.
Justin smirked.
"Aren't all guys like that?" he asked. Vanessa laughed.
"I'm beginning to think so. But I bet you aren't like that with Britney, right?" Vanessa guessed. The laughter extinguished in Justin's aqua eyes as he shook his head.
"Weren't like that," he corrected. Vanessa rose her eyebrows in surprise.
"Were, as in not anymore?"
"Yeah...we broke up tonight," Justin hesitantly informed. Vanessa frowned.
"I'm sorry," she sympathetically apologized. Justin offered her a crooked, half-smile.
"It's ok. It was a mutual thing. We both knew our relationship wasn't the same anymore. The spark had died. Besides, there's this other girl I think I'm starting to develop feelings for," Justin hinted.
"Oh really? And who is it?" Vanessa curiously asked, a gut feeling giving her a theory to who this mystery girl was.
Justin threw her a dazzling grin and chuckled.
"I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you."
Back To Chapter Index
Back To Long Fiction