Girls Fakes That

Not just any bar, a quiet, cozy room bar, perfect for private chats. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and alcohol, with a low hum of muffled voices from beyond the walls. I blinked, quickly scanning my surroundings to get my bearings.

The room was boxed in by wooden walls, their grainy texture catching the dim amber light from a single hanging lamp. A sliding door sat at one end, half-open, letting in a sliver of the hallway's glow. I glanced at the seat across from me, empty. Hailey hadn't arrived yet.

We'd agreed to grab drinks together, but I'd gotten here first and was waiting. My mind adjusted fast, like slipping into a familiar pair of shoes. 

By my reckoning, the morning chat with Hailey in the park was just five minutes ago, so fresh I could still hear her laugh. I liked that. No matter what she said next, I was set on sticking to my earlier lie.

Bzzz—