Those words so dramatic hit harder than they should have. I’d heard them all my life. Every time I tried to explain my work, my choices, my perspective, it was their shorthand for we don’t believe you. Peter clapped his hands once.
“All right, enough work talk. This is supposed to be fun.”
Lauren raised her glass again.
“Fun. Now that’s something Emma’s allergic to.”
Everyone laughed again. I stood up, forcing a smile.
“Excuse me. End of four.”
In the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, the hum of the refrigerator louder than the voices in the other room. My pulse was steady, but my stomach was tight. I’d been trained to handle high pressure scenarios, but nothing in military training prepares you for a family that treats you like a punchline. After a few minutes, Lauren followed me in.
“Hey,” she said, wobbling slightly in her heels. “Don’t be mad. You know how we joke.”
I open the fridge just to have something to do.
“You joke, I tolerate.”
She scoffed.
“Oh, please don’t act like you’re some martyr. You love being the quiet genius. Makes you feel superior.”
“I love peace,” I said. “That’s all.”
She moved closer.
“You think I don’t see it? The way you look at me like I’m some shallow idiot.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.” I said just careless.
Her eyes narrowed.
“At least people like me.”
I closed the fridge and looked at her.
“People tolerate you because you make noise. That’s not the same as being liked.”
Her face twisted and I saw at the raw, ugly envy she’d been hiding under all that laughter. She stepped closer, her voice dropping.
“You think that badge on your uniform makes you better? You think the army makes you special?”
“I think it makes me responsible,” I said.
Lauren’s lip curled.
“Responsible for what? Boring people to death.”
I turned to leave, but she grabbed my arm. Her nails dug into my sleeve.
“You can’t keep looking down on me. Ash. Let go, Lauren. Say it.”
She hissed.
“Say you’re not better than me.”
I stared at her hand gripping my arm, the tension in her wrist, the glassy look in her eyes. She was drunk enough to mean it.
“Lauren,” I said quietly. “Let go before you regret it.”
She released me and stumbled back, laughing, trying to make it sound like a joke again.
“God, you’re so intense. Always threatening people.”
