I rang Macy. She gasped, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I've been pretty sick, though."

"Oh, Jazz, he was so angry. Did you have a big fight?"

This confused me. "Mace, I don't remember most of it. Who was angry?"

Macy laughed into the phone. "Yeah, I've never seen you so drunk. He laid Carl out."

"Whose Carl and who laid him out?" I queried.

"Oh my God, you don't even remember that?" She laughed some more.

I snapped. "Macy, will you tell me what happened? From beginning to end!"

She giggled again, "Yeah, I'm gonna have to." She said, "We hit it hard. Daniel met with some of his mates, so we hung out together. Connor was nice, by the way."

"Macy!"

"Okay, okay. Anyway, Daniel and Belinda went home early because they couldn't stop touching each other. We stayed with the guys. I took you to dance, but you freaked out. You wouldn't stop laughing. At least it started that way. Connor said you'd better sit down and have some water. He sat you with Carl while we went to get you some. Carl put you on his lap. Connor said he was a sleazy prick."

She paused and then said, "Anyway, the bastard had his hand up your pants, and your Adam came out of nowhere. He grabbed you and smacked Carl right in the face. He broke his nose, then carried you away."

Macy gasped, "Jazz, I didn't say anything. I told Connor. Nobody else knew who he was. I pretended I didn't know him in case he got into trouble for hitting Carl." She huffed, "The prick deserved it."

Macy's voice changed as she said, "Oh, Jazz. I'm so sorry. It was my fault."

"How was it your fault? I'm the one who said yes to getting drunk."

"The truth is, I saw Adam but didn't tell you. I thought you'd go home with him and get used. I encouraged you to drink and distracted you. He watched you like a hawk all night."

Stunned, I didn't know what to say.

Macy added, "I should have taken you to another club, but I liked Connor. I was being selfish."

"It's okay, Macy. I'm all right. Don't worry about it. I'm glad you didn't tell me."

"What happened? Did you sleep with him? Did you fight?"

I was stunned by the questions she fired at me and said, "We didn't have sex, and if we did, I don't remember. I know I vomited on him, and we sort of fought. I fought; he didn't. I woke up at his house," I said as I glanced at the side of my hand. "I laid into him. Now I have big, sore bruises on my hands and forearms."

"Did he hit you back?"

"No!" I gasped. "The bastard wouldn't have wanted to. He let me hit him, and then he had to go somewhere. As usual. I left him a note telling him to leave me alone, then I bolted."

"Oh." Macy sounded shocked. She muttered, "You don't want to see him again...he's...?"

I changed the subject. "What about you and Connor, did anything happen?"

She laughed. "Yes and no. You'll be proud of me, Jazz. I said no to going home with him even though I wanted to. He asked me for my number and rang me this morning. We're going to the movies tonight."

I squealed into the phone to pretend I was happy. And I was for her. I hoped it worked out, but it made me depressed at the same time.

After I hung up, I rang work. I had to get my life together. I got Robert on the line.

"Hey, Jasmine. Are you still sick?"

"No, I'm fine. I had a bad cold. Thanks for being patient."

"All good, love. Shit happens." Robert chortled. "So, you'll be back on Monday then?"

"That's what I'm ringing about. Can I go back to nights?"

"What?" He sounded shocked. "Nights? You hate the nights."

"I don't hate them," I muttered.

Robert yelled to someone in the background, then said, "I've got an opening, but you'll have to dance the intro. Do you want to think about it?"

"No. I need to change shifts, so I'll do it."

"O...kay," Robert dragged out the word and added, "Has this got anything to do with that dude who came in looking for you last week?"

I didn't want to say too much, so I said, "Yeah, a bit."

"Is he hassling you because I know people who could sort it if you want?"

"No, but thanks anyway." I paused and grumbled, "He didn't turn out to be Mr Right."

Robert laughed, "Okay, but I mean it. If you need help, let me know. I don't like my girls getting hassled."

"Thanks." I changed the subject. "When will I start?"

"We'll make it on Tuesday. Work your normal Monday because I'll need to find someone to fill that spot. You can do Tuesday through Saturday, six to three, is that all right?"

I didn't answer. Robert picked up on my hesitation and added, "You're not happy with that?"

"I play squash on Wednesday nights." I didn't want to put him out, but I also didn't want to let my team down. I said, "Could I do Mondays instead of Wednesdays?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "But that doesn't give you two days off in a row?"

"I'm okay with it. I don't want to let the team down."

"Team player, hey." Robert laughed. "Nice to know."

The sound of the phone ringing woke me on Sunday morning. I picked it up and said a tired, "Hello."

"Jasmine, is that you? Oh, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"It's okay, Mum. You know Sunday...time for me to get up and go to church."

"You go to church now?"

The sound of my mother's shocked tones made me smile. "I'm being sarcastic, Mum."

"Oh, you know me in one ear, out the next," she tittered.

I grinned at the phone as she continued without waiting for a response. "The reason I'm ringing is Melody's just rung. She and Grant have gotten engaged, isn't that fantastic?"

I put on the happiest voice I could, "Wow, that's great, Mum! When did this happen?"

"Last night. He even got on one knee. Isn't that sweet and at a restaurant too."

I said, "Yeah, sounds perfect. I'll ring her later to say congratulations."

Mum prattled, "We're going to have a party for them in three weeks on Saturday night. Twenty-third. Can you come? I'll ring Daniel. It sounds like he has another new girlfriend."

That was Mum, asks you a question and doesn't wait for an answer.

"I'm pretty sure I'll be able to make it," I mused. "I'll ask if I can have the night off."

"That's lovely, sweetheart. Better go. I've got lots of calls to make."

"Okay, bye, Mum," I said to the dial tone.

I dragged myself to the shower. Melody was twenty and getting married. I was glad for her but sad for myself. Everyone around me seemed to be finding love. I was dying fast. Would I ever find Mr Right? I'll end up being one of those spinster women who live at home looking after their parents in old age. I wondered if I should take myself to the doctor for some antidepressants. I made myself some tea and toast, then settled in to ring Melody.

"Hey, Sis, I've just got the news," I put on the brightest voice I could muster. "Well done, congrats and all that."

"It's about time, isn't it?" she squealed. I heard her whisper, "Stop it. Jazz is on the phone."

I figured Grant must have been tickling her or something.

"How long have you guys been going out?"

"Five years. We met in year ten." Melody giggled again.

I sighed. I'd had five boyfriends since then if I counted Kyle and Adam. Of the other three, one lasted eight months, but he had an affair. Unbeknownst to me, I was the affair. Another lasted two months, and the other... well...can you count two one-night stands with the same guy, a boyfriend? Let's make that one-and-a-half one-night stands. He was so drunk the second time that he fell asleep at my kitchen table. All right, forget it. Let's make it four boyfriends.

"Did you ever think you'd marry the guy?" I asked.

"Yeah, didn't have a doubt," Melody said with confidence. She paused and then murmured, "How is your love life going?"

I laughed to cover my depression. "Not so great. I thought I'd met Mr Right, but he turned out to be Mr Wrong. Nothing new."

"Oh, Jazz. Are you okay?" Pity oozed through the phone line.

"Yeah...I'm okay," I sighed. "You know me, Mel, it takes a while to get over, but I will eventually."

"You must be picking the wrong guys." This was Mel. She had no filter. She added, "They say some women have a repetitive syndrome. You know, like...they keep making the same mistakes over and over. Maybe that's you."

What was I going to say to that? I couldn't help but laugh as I said, "Thanks, Mel, just what I need. A syndrome on top of everything else."

She gasped, "I'm sorry, Jazz. That was a tactless thing for me to say. I didn't mean..."

"Hey." I cut her off. "Don't worry. I've gotta go, stuff to do. I'll see you in a couple of weeks. Tell Grant I said congratulations."

We said goodbye. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did have something wrong with me.

So many phone calls to make.

Poor Jasmine.  Hearing her sister's news must make her feel like a failure.

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