One More Weekend (Sapphics in the City #5)

29. Sy

29

SY

There wasn’t a line outside of Metro yet, still too early for most people to have gotten themselves together after work.

I pulled my ID from my wallet and passed it to the bouncer after Jenna did the same. The train ride had done us some good, forcing us to chat like normal people and not two horny bastards trying to avoid taking each other to one of the two beds available just feet away.

Once my ID was scanned, Jen pushed open the bar door and a flood of music poured out onto the street. Inside, the bar was filling up with mingling queer people. A sea of mullets and buzzed heads moved toward the platform stage at the back.

Like clockwork, Jenan moved toward the list behind the stage and next to the DJ’s stand while I headed to the bar.

As I rested my elbows on the wooden counter, I knew I shouldn’t drink. That any liquor would encourage me to act on the feelings I was still struggling to push down.

Even if I knew this could end terribly, a part of me thought Jenna just might be it for me.

“What can I get you?” The bartender shouted over the off-key duo on stage.

“Two tequila shots and an IPA, please.” The thoughts running through my mind needed to be quieted, even if that meant they were replaced with something dirtier.

Just as the bartender was setting the drinks on the counter, Jenna pulled up next to me and stretched across the bar to give her my card. “A tap, please!”

Nodding, the guy walked off as Jenna grabbed the shot next to me. I could see in her eyes that she hadn’t planned to drink either.

So it is hard for her too. At least I wasn’t alone.

Lifting my glass, I swallowed hard. “To…”

Every option I could think of made my heart ache.

To New York?

To Jenna leaving?

To the end of our lease?

To someone who might be the love of my life but I might never find out because I’m too scared of losing you?

None of them had a particularly appealing ring to them.

“To karaoke.” Jenna offered, raising her glass to mine.

Thank god for her.

I took a swig from the shot glass, letting the alcohol burn my throat.

Jenna lifted hers to her lips, wincing at the bitter taste.

We left the empty glasses on the bar before grabbing our beers and heading to our usual spot, just to the right of the stage. The music was loud, but not too loud to talk over it, which is why we chose the spot to begin with.

As we got settled in, a group of college students walked up to the stage to perform their number. There weren't enough mics for all of them but they were going to give it their all anyway.

I looked over at Jenna, who watched with an encouraging smile. My face flushed under the dim lights. Somehow she was prettier now than she was the last time I looked at her.

And I knew it wasn’t just the lighting. We'd come to Metro a lot just after college. Jenna had hardly aged since then – only a slight wrinkle near her eyes betraying her youth.

It wasn't long before the college kids hopped off stage and returned to the back corner of the bar where they broke out into uproarious laughter.

And then it was mine and Jenna's turn. I took a swig of my IPA before heading toward the stage.

As usual, I had no idea what song Jenna had chosen for our duet. But if her mood was any indicator, it would be something more upbeat than our trip to Winnie's after her breakup. We had our standards but every once in a while Jenna would throw in something fresh.

I had a feeling tonight might be one of those nights.

We went to karaoke last week, after our late night together. But Jenna had picked a more crowded bar, which meant that we didn't even get a chance to sing.

Despite my disappointment, it was probably for the best, because everyone in the bar would have been able to see just how strained our relationship was at that moment.

As soon as the keys and light strings of Don't Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John and Kiki Dee sounded, I knew we were in for a show.

It was our second classic duet, alongside You're The One That I Want.

I started off the duet with Elton’s lines, followed quickly by Jenna. Hardly looking at the screen, we were able to really sing it out to each other and the audience.

The crowd, now filling up the whole bar, sang along with us as we danced around the stage. By the end of the song, the entire place with the final lines. “Don’t go breaking my heart, I won’t go breaking your heart.”

The song faded out as the bar whooped and hollered.

Taking a bow, Jenna and I hopped off the stage and back to our spot which was only slightly being taken over by college kids.

But as I nestled back in, we got to talking about the song and laughing about our parts.

After a couple minutes, I heard the opening notes of Build Me Up Buttercup. Rolling my eyes, I passed my beer to Jenna and stood. “Your picks are getting ridiculous.”

As soon as I took the stage and grabbed the mic, a woman sidled up to Jenna.

My chest tightened, a wave of jealousy washing over me as I tried to focus on my song. If the next six weeks were anything like this feeling, I was going to be miserable for a long time.