Chapter 3

"This one, this one, this one, and that one," I said to the waiter, tapping the menu. "Oh, and all of these too."

"Can you even finish them?" a green-haired guy asked me.

Before I could answer, Sydney silenced him with her stare. "Let her eat. She'll need all her energy later."

Those cryptic words sent a ripple of excitement through the table. She was right. She should eat more and conserve her energy for what was coming.

The dishes arrived quickly, but I barely had the chance to eat any of them. Instead, they kept asking me to drink, as though eager to get me drunk.

Too bad for them, they had found the wrong target. I had been sneaking Dad's booze since I was ten, and though I might not be able to drink anyone under the table, handling these men was more than enough for me.

When the timing felt right, I pretended to lose my balance and collapsed onto the table. The men leaned in to check if I was still conscious. I grabbed one of them by the wrist, and they jumped in surprise.

"Restroom," I slurred. "I'll be right back for another round."

Then, I staggered off to the restroom.

Standing around the corner, I smirked as I looked at Sydney, completely wasted and lying sprawled on the table.

The next time I saw her, it was the following afternoon. She walked toward me, limping, her gaze filled with resentment. "Where on earth did you go last night?"

Last night?

I propped my chin on my hand, pretending to think. "Oh, I ran into my mom when heading to the restroom last night. She was so dead-set on dragging me home, and it took me so much effort to escape this morning."

My response left Sydney no way to refute or throw a tantrum. All she could do was motion me over to support her. As soon as I neared her, though, I caught a whiff of something unpleasant. Immediately, I jumped to the side.

She glared at me, then steadied herself against the wall without relying on my help.

"Oh, right…" I began, and she quickly turned to look back at me. "Mr. Walmsley was looking for you this morning, but I told him you weren't here."

At the mention of Fred, she turned unreasonably feisty and clutched my collar. "You bitch! Were you trying to replace me while I was gone? Don't even dream about it! Mr. Walmsley said I'm the only one he loves!"

I scoffed and pushed her hand away. "That insecure, huh?"

She glared viciously at me, her fists clenching into balls.

"I'm just kidding," I said with a chuckle. "We're best friends. Why would I ever steal your man?"

At that, Sydney finally relaxed.

"Still, I should remind you to get a checkup," I added. "You'll never know if you'll catch anything from them."

Her face flushed red in an instant. "Mind your business," she muttered and walked off.

As I watched her awkward gait, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

Maybe this was what it felt like to shoot oneself in the foot. I wouldn't know, though, for Sydney would soon be the one getting used to it instead.

"Come on out," I said toward the corner.