He had a silver chain with a plain and obviously unappreciated cross as a pendant that dangled over his stained wife-beater and the aviators that clasped folded over the top of his shirt. That trifecta of douche-bagginess was not going to win him any points with me. But it was unnerving, because when I turned to tell him to “go fuck himself” for the second time I saw something that threw me off balance.
It was his smile. That oddly familiar smile that Johnny used to give me right before something terrible happened. He was strangely confident even though I was trying my absolute hardest to blow him off. He simply smiled and that was it. I saw the crescent-moon in his smirk and melted like warm putty in his hands, and my heart began to thaw for the first time since Johnny left.
I made him buy me three martinis before I would even step out onto the floor with him, which was probably not the smartest idea. But what the hell? If somebody that cocky thought he had any chance with me, he’d better prove that his wallet could handle it. Looking back, you’d think that maybe his friends higher-up would have shut the bar down for serving me alcohol underage, seeing as how I was only twenty at the time. Or maybe he would have gotten into some sort of trouble for buying me booze and knowing that it was illegal to do so.
Apparently, I’m special.
Actually, that’s one of the things that made me fall for his act. He always told me how “special” or “beautiful” I was. The words meant as much to me now as they did when I was five, if not more so. Taz knew exactly how to prey on my vanity and it was ultimately my undoing, though I had always thought it was one of my more endearing qualities.