My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

“So how did you and Lindsey meet?”

All nine of us were sitting at a table at Earl's, enjoying our dinner. Or at least, everyone but me was enjoying their dinner. I was having spazz attacks everytime Frank or Dylan spoke, which was often, seeing as I was squashed in between the two of them.

If I could get through this dinner without anyone finding out about my lie, I would never, ever tell a fib to anyone again.

“Oh, we've all known each other since school.” Georgina answered Gerard, who, much to Andy's displeasure, was sitting on her other side, “Lindsey and I were always friends, and Andy and Dylan were too. Then Andy and I got together and Lindsey and-”

My eyes widened and I knew I had to steer the conversation out of these dangerous waters. So I gulped down a large mouthful of hot soup and promptly began choking on it.

“Are you okay?” Frank and Dylan asked at the same time, both of them looking at me in concern.

“Hot.” I spat out, then decided I needed to do something more drastic to make sure conversation stayed away from this dating topic. I looked around the table and noticed my steak knife lying innocently on the white tablecloth. I picked it up.

Georgina was looking at me funny, and opened her mouth to say something. Panicking that she was going to somehow mention my engagement, I shrieked, “Spider!” and accidently-on-purpose sent my steak knife flying.

We all watched as it flew threw the air in what seemed like slow motion. Then it landed in Ray's hand and all chaos broke loose.

“Holy shit!” Ray yelled, jumping up from the table and staring at his hand, my knife stuck in his flesh and sticking straight up into the air.

“Oh, my God!” I jumped up and ran around the table to where Ray was swearing, “I'm so, so sorry!”

“Why isn't it bleeding?” Ray yelled, “A knife is stuck in my hand and it's not even bleeding!”

“Okay, calm down.” I said, feeling hysterical. I didn't mean for the knife to actually hit someone, “Oh, Jesus-”

“Here.” Mikey stood up and told Ray to relax. Meanwhile, Bob had run for a waiter to help.

Gerard, Andy, Frank and Dylan were all staring at the knife in shock. Georgina was the only one watching me suspiciously.

I ignored her look and grabbed Ray's other hand, telling him to close his eyes so he wouldn't see the knife coming out of his skin.

“One...” Mikey counted, “Two...”

He pulled the knife out and Ray gasped, “What the hell happened to three?”

“Hurts less if you don't expect it.” Mikey put the knife on the table just as Bob returned with the waiter and Ray's hand started bleeding.

“Come with me, sir.” The waiter looked scared, “Wrap your hand in the napkin and come into the kitchen. We have a first aid kit.”

“I should go with him.” I said to the group, all of who seemed to be shocked into silence, “It was my fault.”

Then Gerard started laughing, and soon he was joined by Mikey. Then Bob began chuckling and before I knew it, the whole table was roaring with laughter.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” I stared at them like they were all mental.

“You- should- have- seen- your- face!” Dylan breathed, “Holy crap, that was priceless.”

“When the knife went flying, and landed in Ray's hand.” Georgina giggled, “It looked like you were going to have a heart attack.”

I gaped at all of my friends, seeing tears leak down their faces from laughing so hard.

“I'm going to check on Ray.” I walked towards the kitchen and saw Ray having his hand cleaned by a waitress.

“Does it hurt?” I heard the attractive girl ask Ray as she began to bandage the wound.

“Ahh, no, it doesn't hurt at all.” Ray said proudly, even though minutes before he had been yelling.

“God, Ray, I'm so sorry.” I rushed to his side, “I swear, I-”

“Saw a spider and threw a knife at me, right.” Ray joked, “Don't worry. Happens all the time.”

He then shot me a significant look, and then glanced at the waitress. I took the hint and backed out of the kitchen.

“See you later.” I went back to the table and sat down between Dylan and Frank again.

“Hey knife thrower.” Frank grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes. At least conversation was now about me and my knife, rather than me and my relationships.