You sit quietly, listening only part of the time the conversation around yourself. You look around at those sitting around the table. Anne catches your eye, seeming sympathetic to the boredom she must sense in my expression. You cross your legs and smile back, looking down at your hand running across the napkin in your lap.
He seems intensely interested in the subject at hand. He’s not given you as much as a single glance for what seems like ages. You find yourself wishing you had stayed at home. Why bother? These are his friends. Anne is nice enough, but the other couple…you can’t even remember their names.
You excuse yourself and walk slowly to the restroom, lingering in front of the mirror, checking your lipstick and pulling at your sweater. You stand there, waiting. A group of women walk in, laughing and talking excitedly amongst themselves, and you push your way out the door as they take over the small room.