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The girl I was dancing with said she wanted to go outside and get some air. We both went out there and started to talk. I started to forget about Andy and Brie, but I also started to realize how drunk I was. I had to go the bathroom bad, so I told the girl to wait for me there while I went inside.I walked in and I didn't see Andy or Brie on the dance floor, but I wasn't really looking for them, I really had to go take a piss. I went to the bathroom, and while I was going I decided I wanted to find them to tell them I was pretty drunk and couldn't drive home. As I stepped out of the bathroom, I saw one of the bedroom doors closed and I wondered if they were in there together. I didn't try to knock or listen, I was too scared to find out, but just in case, before I went outside to that girl again, I looked for them on the dance floor and in the kitchen. I decided they were probably downstairs playing pong again or something.I went outside, but the girl I was talking to was gone. There. Still young, and working construction, his body was lean and strong, often catching the eye of other women. And she couldn’t blame them. Her husband was something of a hunk. It must be in the genes. That handsome mug was duplicated, in an older, xeroxed, pre-digital copy, in his older brother Michael. Michael…She tousled Matt’s hair. Usually single, not eager to mingle, quiet, considered, more socially reserved—or so she imagined. He’d moved away shortly after she’d fallen hard for Matt. Something Michael, of course, had been implicated in. Perhaps he had even orchestrated it. And now they saw little of him, and heard mere whispers—driven, accomplished, successful, her mother in law dropped hints subtle enough to break the tiled floor of the kitchen, ever failing to annoy the hell out of Matt. Was he going to Iraq to show he could be successful too? Lyla shuddered. Tousling again, she watched Matt’s eyes slowly lift, bleary with sleep. He smiled sweetly at her, his arm returning to.
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