(no subject)
She was getting a headache. Or had a headache. At this point Erica Albright was having a hard time determining which had come first: the throbbing in her temples or the sudden re-appearance of Mark Zuckerberg.
As far as ex-boyfriends went, she had had worse. She also certainly had better. It hadn’t been this difficult before. Most of the time the usual set of lies was exchanged. It’s not you, it’s me. We can still be friends. Let’s keep in touch. All of them part of an unspoken code that yes, it was the other person and being friends was not likely to happen. There were exceptions, of course, but the odds were largely in favor of falling out of touch the moment that relationship was severed.
Being friends with Mark Zuckerberg was not something that she had ever intended to do. She had told him as much and it was doubly true now that he had suddenly reappeared in her life, no matter how brief it was. The fact that he had come up to her table where she had been having a nice evening and asked to talk to her, like it had been nothing was what got to her. No, if he had really wanted to talk to her he could have found a way to arrange it. Talked to her roommate or something, since she had blocked his number from her phone.
Draining the rest of the wine from her glass, she slumped down in her chair closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. Her friends had started talking again, the conversation oddly stilted at first before growing increasingly more animated. Focusing on her breathing she tried to banish what had happened from her mind. Slow, steady breaths. It was still early, the night could still be salvaged and she could go back to pretending that Mark didn’t exist.
Picking up her purse from the floor, she rummaged around in it before tapping a pair of Tylenol into her hand. Swallowing the pills, she smiled at her friends as she got slowly to her feet. Gesturing to the door, she pulled her coat tight. “I’m going to go get some air. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”
A chorus of nods and smiles answered her, the generic replies of reassurance. Keri shot her a questioning look, which Erica dismissed with a shake of her head. Turning she wove through the crowd, stopping near the door of the restaurant to let a pair of guys pass her as they entered. The cool air would be a welcome relief and hopefully more than enough to stop the headache in its tracks.
Pushing the door open, she braced herself against the snow and wind as she stepped through the door, her feet crunching on what she assumed to be salt. They were always a little overzealous with the stuff, blissfully unaware of the environmental impact. Rolling her eyes, she took a deep breath exhaling slowly as the realisation that it was suddenly a lot warmer than it had been when she had gone inside. It was the sticky sort of heat, the kind that had no business being experienced in February unless you were on some sort of tropical island. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, which she realised was far too dark for this neighborhood at this time of night. Gone were the sounds and smells of the business bars and restaurants. In fact, it would seem that all of Boston had disappeared only for a path in a jungle in the middle of the night to be in its place.
Her temple throbbed, her stomach somersaulting slightly. Her headache apparently had turned into a full-blown migraine complete with hallucinations and a growing feeling of nausea. There was a flash of lightning overhead, followed shortly after by a gentle roll of thunder.
“Oh God,” she groaned looking skyward before looking around. There was no explanation for this, none that belonged in reality at least. She wasn’t Alice or Lucy Pevensie or any other character who found themselves in strange places. This had all of the signs that she was experiencing some serious off-label side-effects. There was nothing that she could think to do. Catching sight of some sort of light between the trees, she took off in that direction squinting slightly to keep from tripping over something that she couldn’t see.
“Hello? Is anyone home?”
This was not her night. Not at all.