A woman in front of me clears her throat, demanding my attention, but I continue to look through her, imagining all of the sick, sexy things I’d let Seth do to me.

“Excuse me?” She asks. Her tone is thick with snobby attitude.

Her wrinkled, aged face comes into focus and I’m looking at her cherry colored lips that are pursed into an annoyed line. Her white hair sits on the top of her head, like a poodle. Yep, she reminds me of a poodle. I ready my fingers on the worn out keyboard. “Name, please?”

“Miriam Matthews.” I type as she speaks.

I tick her name as attended and tell her to have a seat. With a frustrated exhale, she struts away from me. Her dress is a cherry-red, just like her lips and it’s tight, forcing her gigantic, fake boobs as high as they can possibly go. I wonder if she comes here to discuss her inability to let go of her youth. I smile to myself. Trying to read people without even getting to know them is a habit of mine. I frown. I couldn’t get a full reading on Seth. He was difficult and that bugs me. With the old lady, on the other hand, I think I have a pretty good idea of what she’s all about. I peer over my desk at the woman and judging by the way she sits with her legs tightly crossed as she subconsciously taps her beautiful manicured finger on her equally beautiful diamond watch tells me that she’s impatient. That’s not too surprising considering everyone is busy these days. The rock-hard, lifeless pair of fake tits that protruded from her dress brings me back to my inability to let go of youth point. I glance at her hands. There’s a tan line on her ring finger and I’m going to assume she’s a recent widow to her latest of five husbands. I look at my computer screen and click on her file. Close enough. She’s had three name changes the past two years. I click on ‘John Matthews’ the name that’s linked to her account. A big red ‘DECEASED’ watermark runs across his file. Sometimes, I’m too good at what I do.

“Aren’t you breaching some kind of doctor-slash-patient confidentiality laws?” I jump and switch the monitor off as Selena slides onto my desk.

“Jesus,” I breathe. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Selena laughs and nudges me, drawing a few annoyed scowls from the patients in the waiting room. I press my finger against my lips. “Shoosh, this is my work, remember. What are you doing here?”

She flicks her soft, blonde curls so they drape over her shoulder and leans closer to me. The smell of cigarette on her breath makes me nauseous. Lightly, I shove her backwards. “Your breath smells like smoke. It’s disgusting.”

“Oops,” She reaches for a piece of gum out of a hidden pocket in her bag. “Sorry.” She pops the gum into her mouth, scrunches the wrapper and aims for the bin, missing terribly.

“What are you doing here?” I ask again as she applies minimum lip gloss to her plump lips.

“I thought I’d come check on you. You didn’t answer any of my texts.” She slides out of her beige coat and tucks it underneath her. “I was worried. I half expected to find you dead somewhere.”

“Oh, right.” After literally running into Seth at the gym, I completely forgot to text Selena back. “I switched my phone off last night and then this morning I got a little caught up at Dad’s gym.”

She rolls her eyes. “Boring. Anyway, you really broke up with Blade?”

I nod. “Yep.”

“And there’s no getting back with him?”

“No. Not this time.”

Ignoring the fact that we’re in a quiet place, Selena squeals like a pre-teen who’s just won backstage tickets to a Justin Bieber concert. From her bag she pulls out a mini box of baby sized wine coolers. The patients cringe at her high voice—but a few enjoyed having a slim blonde dancing to no music and slamming back wine. The door closest to my reception desk opens abruptly and Mason Peterson, my boss, storms from his office. His grey suit clings to his fantastically tight body. He’s in good shape for someone who’s as old as he is—early forties, maybe. He has a nice face, too. His hair is a golden color, like baked bread and his eyes are a striking blue. He moved his business to Portland, Maine from Seattle four years ago due to a rocky divorce. Beside me Selena stops dancing and I drop my eyes to my blank screen, moving my fingers across the keyboard, pretending to type.

“What’s going on here, Olivia?” He asks sternly.

Mason is an awesome boss. He lets me get away with a lot of stuff most bosses would fire their employees for and occasionally I abuse it.

“I have no idea who this girl is.” I say. “She must be a patient here.”

I pick up the phone. “Hello, Guyers and Peterson Psychology this is Olivia.”

Mason exhales, placing his hands firmly on his hips. His azure eyes narrow in on me and the disappointment is clear on his face. “Olivia, I’m not an idiot. I know the phone didn’t ring and Selena you’re not allowed to drink in here. How many times do I have to tell you?”

I press my lips tightly together to prevent myself from laughing. It didn’t help any. The laugh I’m holding back ends up coming out of my nose. Damn, Selena. She knows exactly how to turn me back into my old high-school self.

“Come on guys. How many warnings do I have to give you?”

“I’m sorry, Mason.” I apologize, wiping laughter tears from my eyes and smudging my mascara slightly. “I had no idea Selena was coming today. She just showed up.”

“Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t believe me.

“Olivia broke up with Blade last night.”

Wow, so apparently that’s information the whole world should know. I shoot Selena an angry glare and she shrugs it off. Selena has a habit of running her mouth off to people I don’t want knowing my business. Mason is a good boss, but he’s also persistent. I’ve lost count of how many times he has asked me out to dinner.

“It’s about time.” Mason sighs. “That guy was an asshole. How are you holding up?”

I shrug. “Surprisingly well, actually.” I made it out of bed so that’s a start.

“Good.” He pulls his cell phone from his back pocket and dials a number. “Sally? Hi, it’s Mason. Yeah. Can you come in today? Olivia isn’t feeling well. Okay, great. See you soon.”

I gape at him wide eyed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you time to relax. You can come back in two days.”

Selena bounces excitedly, but I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t like people doing favors for me, especially people that will expect things in return. “That’s unnecessary.”

“It’s happening, now get out of here before you cost me anymore clients.”

I reach under my chair, grab my handbag and step away from the desk. I’m not going to complain about a day off. God knows I need one. Selena grabs her coat, hooks her arm around my elbow and pulls me toward the door. I look back at Mason who positions himself behind the desk. He switches on the monitor and John Matthew’s personal file opens right where I left it. Mason shoots me an annoyed glance. I shrug and push through the door before he changes his mind about letting me go.

***

Selena and I pull into a small steakhouse. She fought tooth and nail for Mexican, but I think I made it pretty clear that I never want to eat Mexican again. Ever.

We sit by a window that showcases the not-so-beautiful scenery of the car park and the full highway.

“I am so sick of living in this place.” Selena groans, taking in the car park.

“You can say that again.”

She pulls a small wine from her bag and hands it to me. To prevent the inevitable speech that comes with denying alcohol from her, I take it.

“I’m sorry girls.” A middle-aged waitress says as she approaches us, pulling a pencil from behind her ear. “You can’t bring your own. You have to buy alcohol here.”

Selena takes my wine back and shoves it into her bag, all while smiling sweetly at the woman. “That’s okay, more for me later.”

I giggle at her as she orders a jug of beer and cheesy fries. I, on the other hand, order a chicken burger and a side of beer battered chips. My stomach grumbles while we wait for our food. I didn’t eat before I left the house this morning—not the smartest thing considering I was going to work out. My mouth waters as I watch waiters and waitresses bring food to other customers. Just to have something in my stomach I sip at my beer. I cringe and make a strange sound in the base of my throat as I swallow the gross liquid. I hate beer and as a result, I suddenly feel nauseous.

“So,” Selena begins, ignoring my reaction to the beer. “What made you decide you’ve finally had enough of Blade’s shit?”

Honestly, I have no idea where to begin. “Well, he left me at Salsa’s again to go hang out with ‘his boys’ and when I called him another girl answered his phone.” Selena rolls her eyes, unsurprised. “I realized it’s probably going to be like that for the rest of my life and that’s the complete opposite of what I want and what I deserve.”

“Damn straight. If I was a guy, I’d treat you right!”

I smile. “Thanks, Sel.”

Seconds later, the waitress brings our food and Selena dives greedily into her cheesy fries. For a girl so slender and fit, she sure eats and drinks like shit. I’m quite fit and on most days I eat right, but that still didn’t slim the curves of my body. No matter how hard I try, the hips wanted to stay. Sadly, there’s no exercise to slim your bones.

Selena perks up, like she just had an awesome idea. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

“No.” I reply instantly.

I hate clubs. I hate clubs more than I hate cheaters. Clubs make me anxious. Being grinded on by a bunch of random, sleazy dudes and having them breathe their alcohol/cigarette breath all over you is disgusting.

“Oh come on, O. You never come out with me. You don’t have Blade anymore, live a little.”

I throw a few chips into my mouth and speak to her through mashed potato. “It’s not about that. I hate clubs and you know it.”

She pouts her lips at me and I notice a spattering of salt across them. “Don’t make me go by myself.”

“Selena, you’ve already started drinking and it’s barely eleven a.m. You and I both know you’ll be out cold by four this afternoon”

“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you.” She pauses, grabs her beer and slams back the rest of it before setting the empty glass back down on the table. “If I stop drinking now, you’ll come out with me tonight. Think of my liver. If you say no, I’m going to have to pound it with the rest of that jug of beer, but if you say yes I won’t touch another drop until tonight.”

Sighing, I put a piece of lettuce into my mouth. “Fine, I’ll come out with you, but I don’t want to go to Heaven’s. Blade always goes there.”

Heaven’s is our city’s biggest nightclub and I hate it.

The jingle of the bell attached to the front door rings, pulling me from my train of thought and I glance up as a bunch of rowdy boys step in. Selena straightens her back and twists in her seat so she can check out the group. Selena loves boys almost as much as she loves booze, although they usually came hand in hand.

“Yum, look how tall they all are.” I can practically hear her mouth pooling with drool.

While she’s not looking I take a cheesy fry from her plate and pop it into my mouth. “Yeah.” I agree, not looking in their direction. I’m disappointed. It’s not really a cheesy fry... It’s just a thick cut chip with some weird cheese salt.

Selena turns back to me. “Are you even looking?”

“Nope.”

She leans closer. “O, stop being a lesbian and perve at the boys that just walked in. You’re starting to worry me.”

Quickly, I glance up at them and then back down to my plate just to keep her happy.

“That doesn’t count.” She snaps under her breath. “Do it again. And actually look like you appreciate it this time.”

I exhale and look at the group of boys who sit a few booths down from us. Two of them had their backs to me so I couldn’t comment on their faces. One is wearing a blue hoodie and he has broad, wide shoulders. The other is a little smaller, wearing a tight black shirt and a red cap. Looking past them I see the two guys facing my direction. They aren’t anything special and one has an annoying moustache.

“Aren’t they hot?” She gasps, kicking my shin a little too hard and making me flinch.

“Sure.” I groan through clenched teeth. When the pain subsides, I continue. “I mean they’re not ugly.”

Selena laughs a bit too loudly and two pairs of eyes fall onto me. My cheeks instantly turn pink.

“Are they looking?” She asks, whispering.

Not wanting to provoke her, I lie. “Nope.”

I drop my gaze back to my burger and pick it up to take a bite. All the flavors from the chicken and sauce flood into my mouth—tomato, aioli, pickle relish—I almost moan out loud. It’s that amazing.

“I’m going over there.” She turns to slide out of the booth and I drop my burger onto its plate as I reach for her arm. I manage to snag it, forcing her to stay put.

I swallow my mouthful of food. “Don’t be an idiot. There are four of them.”

She winks at me. “The more the merrier.”

Selena shrugs out of my grasp and straightens her short grey dress. She fluffs her long hair and turns to me. “How do I look?”

I roll my eyes, knowing very well that I’ve already lost. “Go get em’.”