Cosmopolitan

'You should take longer next time,' Colette said when I finally plonked down next to her. 'What, you get thirsty on the way?' she continued, surveying the half-empty glasses.

'No, some dickhead pushed me and I spilled them all over probably the best-looking man in the universe! Ohmygod, Col. He had this smile...it was weird, we just stared at each other, like we had some instant connection. I know, I know, shut up.'

'Mills! Boon! Come quick! We've got the beginnings of a great story-line,' she said, laughing.

'He even offered to buy replacements, when it was so not his fault...'

'Look at you, Jay - all smitten over some random in a bar!' she said, digging me in the ribs. As my older sister, it was in her job description to rib me, physically and figura-tively, every time I showed any hint of liking a guy, ever.

'Did you give him your number?'

'Oh, yeah, in the three seconds we spent together.'

'Well, what are you doing? You gonna go give it to him, or sit out here like a loser?'

'I'm staying here. But I may walk past him and make him ask me for it when I get the next round.'

'Maybe just write it on your forehead, or scribble it across your tits,' Col offered, raising her glass to her lips.

'You mean, show him from the outset the kind of classy bird I am?'

She ignored me, instead making a loud slurping noise.'There's actually nothing left in this,' she said, peering into her drink.

I leaped up. 'Leave it to me,' I said, giddy with excitement, already turning to walk inside.

'Actually, know what? I really can't be arsed waiting an-other twenty minutes. I think we should roll. I'm beat.'

No! No go home! I screamed on the inside.

'Ohh, come on, just one more?' I said aloud, fidgeting to get inside and see Adonis again. 'You promised one drink and, technically, that was not even half of one...'
Dramatic sigh.

'Okay then. But don't take so bloody long this time. If you see Fabio, give him your number then keep walking. Treat 'em mean and all that shit.'

I grabbed my gloss out of my handbag and applied a fresh layer before prancing gaily inside, heading back over in His direction, my heart racing.

When I got to the scene of the spill, Adonis had vanished. I held my breath and looked around, to the left, to the right, trying to keep it all on the low-low. But he was nowhere to be seen. I put my head down and slowly made my way over to the stairs so that I could inconspicuously scan the entire room, which seemed to have tripled in volume and people since I was here four minutes ago.

I looked, and I looked. And I looked. But he was gone. My heart, unaccustomed to such intense feelings within such condensed timeframes, plummeted through my body to the floor, where it mocked me quietly for getting my hopes up over a guy whose eyes drilled through mine because he'd put away fourteen rum and Cokes, not because he thought I was The One.

You fool, Jean. Why didn't you give him your name when he asked? And your number and email and blood type, too? Now he's gone and you'll never see him again.

I turned and walked back outside, my shoulders slumped, my tone deflated.

'He's gone, Col.'

Colette stood up and put her black patent studded bag on her shoulder.

'Oh, Jay. If it's meant to be, then you'll run into him again..' She scrunched up her face sympathetically and led the way inside. I followed, my eyes combing the sea of heads for Adonis, but he hadn't just gone to the bathroom, and he hadn't just slipped off to the ATM. He'd gone.

Click here to read more of Playing the Field, by Zoe Foster.