Bitter Aftertaste

Stella

She just glares at me, then turns and slips back into the crowd. I watch her go until she reaches the bar, where her friends are waiting for her.

“She doesn’t like me very much.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He wraps his arms around me when a slower song starts up, and we sway together. “Don’t worry about her,” he says, when he notices I’m not as into dancing anymore. “Her opinion doesn’t matter.”