“I am. I can’t wait to get into the courtroom,” I tell him.
He smiles. “You’re going to be a great lawyer, Faye.”
“Thank you Sir. I’ll see you next week.”
I smile to myself as I leave uni to drive to my boyfriend Eric’s house. I’m halfway through my law degree, with only two years left. Eric is the same. We’ve been together since we were in grade nine, much to my mother’s dismay. My parents are big on caring what others think, and I’m a constant source of embarrassment for them. What they don’t know is that I’m one of the good ones. I don’t smoke, I don’t drink, and I’ve never touched drugs in my life. I’m studious and care about my future. Eric is ambitious as well, which is what I like about him. After we graduate, we are going to start our own law firm, get married, and buy a house. We have a plan, and we’re going to stick to it. I pull into his driveway and check my makeup in the rear view mirror. Wide hazel eyes stare back at me, lined in black kohl. My nose is straight and splattered with freckles, my lips plump and covered in pink gloss. Satisfied with my appearance, I slide out of the car and walk to his front door. The front door is unlocked, which isn’t unusual for Eric’s house, so I don’t think anything of it. His mother is social and is always having her friends over. I walk down the hall, checking my phone messages as I make my way to his room. My eyes are still on my phone as I enter, glancing up only when I hear a noise.
That’s the moment my life changed forever.
I stare in open mouthed shock as a naked Eric pounds into a woman from behind. They are both facing away from me, enjoying themselves at the same moment I’m finding it difficult to breathe.
My world collapses.
I’m a good girl. I’ve never cheated, never even held hands with another man. I’m not perfect by any means, but I know, I know, I don’t deserve this shit.
I open my mouth, and then close it. Shock overrides my system. Never once did I suspect something like this from him. Never.
Anger soon replaces my shock.
“You f**king bastard!” I yell, taking two steps back, my hands on my face. Eric stills, then pulls away from the woman, turning to look at me with wide eyes. He starts shaking his head, as if he can’t believe this is happening.
I can’t believe this shit.
“Faye…” he says, reaching his arms out. For me? He has to be kidding. The woman rolls onto her back and sits up, pulling the sheet up. I gasp as I get a view of her face. Trisha. A friend of mine. In fact—one of my only female friends, at least that’s what I’d thought.
She breaks eye contact, as if ashamed. And she should be. I swallow, casting one last look at the man I thought I’d spend my life with.
“You two deserve each other,” I sneer, turning and running out of the house. I can hear Eric call out my name, desperation in his tone, but I couldn’t care less.
He’s dead to me.
*****
What does a girl do when she finds her boyfriend cheating on her? Well, after she’s cried herself sick for two days, she forces herself to get her ass out of bed. She plasters a smile on her face and reminds herself that people break up and relationships end every day. Life isn’t over. Change is good. Eric doesn’t deserve me, and things happen for a reason. Then she gets dressed up, paying special attention to her appearance, and goes out.
This is exactly what I did.
I don’t need Eric. Screw him.
What I need is a little fun.
There’s a bar I’ve seen but never been to. Knox’s Tavern, it’s called.
I get out of my car, smoothing down my dress, and start to feel a little nervous.
I’m going into a bar. By myself.
Why am I here again? Oh right, my boyfriend is a lying, cheating bastard.
The place is packed. My eyes scan the small dance floor before they land on the bar. I plop down on a stool, smiling at the men sitting near me. The place is swarming with both attractive men and women. A good pick-up place then. There are blond twins serving at the bar, both muscled and drop-dead gorgeous. I stare at them for as long as I can until someone notices, then I turn away, blushing.
Eric who?
“What can I get you?” the twin without the scar on his face asks.
“Umm…” I mutter. “Strawberry daiquiri please.”
That’s the only drink I can remember the name of. I tried one once at a friend’s eighteenth. God, I’m so boring. And predictable.
Next time I should order a shot of tequila.
The bartender smiles at me warmly, then turns to make my drink. I fight the urge to fan myself. I pay him for my drink and sip on it slowly, enjoying people watching. When I see what other women are wearing, I start to feel more confident in my black playsuit and wedges. I’m not showing too much skin at all. The sad thing is to exit the house I had to wear a cardigan over the playsuit, or my parents would have complained and nagged. I left the cardigan in my car. I sit here for an hour, declining the few drink invitations I get but feeling flattered all the same. When everyone starts to get really drunk, and a fight breaks out between a couple of bikers, I decide it’s time for me to head home. I question why I feel a little disappointed. Did I want to pick up someone tonight? Do something spontaneous for once?
As I walk to my car, I see a man standing next to a gorgeous black Harley. He’s wearing dark jeans, low on his hips, a black t-shirt and a battered leather jacket.
I know just who he is.