Eighty-seven

I drummed my fingers against the dashboard nervously, peering out of the passenger's window to see if Xavier was coming at occasional intervals.

It was way past ten minutes. And it seemed I had been trolled. My head hit the headboard of the chair I sat on in sadness as I contemplated, how stupid I must have looked, trying to seduce a man who clearly didn't want me.

The night sky was dark above me, and I could still hear the cheering and songs at the ball from the car park. The idiot was probably still there having the time of his life. While I sat waiting rather fruitlessly.

A frustrated sound rose in my throat like bile and I bit my lip down to stop the tears. Why was I trying so hard for a man who didn't give a fuck. What was the difference between me and Celine at this point?

The shuffling of feet jolted me out of my self-pity and wallowing. I sat upright, cleaning my face. Xavier knocked on the window, looking frazzled. What the hell had happened? He gestured at the driver's d