19. Thomas
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thomas
I shift on the barstool, the worn-out cushion beneath me conforming uncomfortably to my ass. The faux leather lets out a high-pitched squeak with every movement, like a chorus of discontent.
Beneath my boots, the wooden floor feels tacky, a reminder of a spilled drink that has long since dried but left its mark.
The atmosphere in Surf’s Up wraps around me: a gentle hum of low music plays in the background, pool balls clack against one another in rhythmic succession, and the faint rustle of fried food baskets being slid across the counter punctuates the air.
“Still here, Romeo?” the bartender calls out with a playful grin, sliding a fresh beer toward me. Her ponytail sways like a pendulum as she moves, and with a practiced flick, she tosses a bar towel over her shoulder. “You trying to become one with that stool, or what?”
I let out a low grunt, a sound more noncommittal than anything. “Not today.”
Resting her elbows on the bar, she leans in, curiosity twinkling in her eyes. “Haven’t seen your punk-rock girl in a while. Thought you two were a thing. I guess tabloids ruin good things though…”
I drop my gaze to the rim of my glass, the foam having long since fizzled out. With a swift motion, I drain the last of the warm, flat beer down my throat and tap the glass lightly on the bar, signaling for another round.
She quirks an eyebrow but obliges, filling the glass once more. “C’mon, I was only teasing…”
I remain silent, my eyes fixed on the glass. Words seem futile.
I’m mid-sip of my cold beer when the door swings open, letting in a rush of crisp night air that sends a shiver down my spine. The soft murmur of laughter and low voices follows. I glance up and freeze.
Ally and Kenzie step into the bar, their hair slightly tousled by the evening breeze. Kenzie is laughing at something Ally just said, and they have that unmistakable glow of two people who are deeply in love, their eyes sparkling with an inner light that seems to illuminate the dim room.
My stomach twists with jealousy, a sharp pang that hits me low and hard. I quickly drop my gaze back to the amber liquid in my glass just as their eyes find mine.
I feel the vibration of their footsteps on the worn wooden floor before I hear the rhythmic tapping of their boots. The bar, once filled with the chatter of patrons and the soft hum of conversation, suddenly feels oppressively quiet, as if even the old jukebox has paused to listen in.
“Hey, stranger.” Kenzie’s voice is gentle, and she slides onto the stool beside me with a warm smile. Ally settles on the other side, her presence equally comforting and intimidating.
“Hi,” I mutter, my eyes fixed on the frothy rim of my drink. I try to mask my emotions, but there’s a heaviness to my voice that betrays me.
Kenzie nudges my arm playfully, trying to lift my spirits. “Been here a while?”
“Feels like forever,” I reply, attempting a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes or lift the weight from my shoulders.
Ally leans casually on the polished wooden bar, her eyes fixed intently on me. “How are you really holding up, Thomas?” she asks softly, and it’s almost hard to hear her over the low hum of chatter in the dimly lit room.
I let out a heavy sigh, raking my fingers through my disheveled hair.
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice tinged with confusion. “I’ve never felt like this before. I keep trying to distract myself—called up a few exes, thought maybe I’d… I don’t know… fill the void or something.”
Kenzie, sitting to my left, arches an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And?”
I shake my head slowly, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Didn’t work. I hung up halfway through one of the calls. Just couldn’t fake it. I don’t want anyone else.”
The silence that follows is palpable, broken only by the clinking of glasses and the murmur of nearby conversations. The bartender strides past and gives a sardonic snort, flicking a coaster in my direction.
“If your ass gets any more comfortable in that seat, I’m charging you rent,” she quips, her voice carrying a teasing edge.
Laughter erupts around me—Ally, Kenzie, even the strangers sitting close by join in. I attempt to muster a grin, but it falters, my heart still heavy and aching as if weighted down by wet sand.
Ally and Kenzie exchange a glance over my shoulder, a silent conversation passing between them, and then Ally’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, as if she’s concealing a juicy secret just waiting to slip out.
I squint suspiciously at them. “What was that? That look—what are you two up to?”
Ally gives a nonchalant shrug, her fingers wrapping around the cool glass of her cocktail, which shimmers with condensation. She takes a sip, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I just… thought I felt a shift in the air.”
I let out a dramatic groan and allow my forehead to drop onto the sticky bar top, which smells faintly of spilled cider and the lingering aroma of aged whiskey. The dull thud reverberates through my skull.
“You two are as cryptic as a riddle wrapped in an enigma.”
Kenzie lets out a light, melodic giggle, but I’m too lost in thought to join in the laughter.
“I’ve never felt this way about a girl before,” I confess, my voice muffled against the wooden surface. “I can’t wrap my head around it. Jinx is just… different. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever dated. It’s like she turns my brain into a swirling snow globe.”
I lift my head, running a hand through my hair in frustration. The overhead lights feel almost suffocating, and the surrounding chatter swells, pressing in on my senses.
Everything becomes overwhelming, as if my nerves are stretched too thin, buzzing just beneath my skin.
I straighten my spine, my brow furrowing into a deep scowl—an expression that rarely crosses my face. “Why is it so hard for people to just say what they mean? I’m done with the guessing games. No more trying to decipher what anyone really feels.”
Kenzie and Ally freeze, their playful banter halting. A serious exchange of glances passes between them, the teasing spark in Kenzie’s eyes dimming to a more empathetic glow.
Behind the bar, the bartender is busy drying a glass with a checkered towel. She catches snippets of our conversation and arches an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation.
“Alright, I’m tapping out,” she announces, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Flag me down if you need another drink. I’m not equipped for this much drama so early in the evening.”
With that, she moves away toward a couple farther down the bar, leaving me to heave a heavy sigh and slump forward on my elbows.
Kenzie’s voice drops to a gentler tone. “You’re not usually this grumpy, Thomas.”
I give a half-hearted shrug, my eyes focusing on the swirling patterns in the wood grain of the bar. “Yeah, well,” I mumble. “Turns out heartbreak makes me cranky.”
Ally slowly twirls the straw in her glass, her eyes fixed on me with a probing intensity.
“Thomas… do you think you’re in love with her?” she asks, and the clinking of glasses and low chatter throughout the bar seem to fade into insignificance.
I blink, momentarily stunned. My initial reaction is to brush it off with a laugh, but something stops me.
I can’t brush her off.
I picture Jinx in my mind, the way her eyes light up with a mischievous twinkle when she laughs, especially during her favorite pastime of crocheting while binge-watching horror movies.
Her hair carries a scent of herbal shampoo mingled with a hint of spice that lingers in the air when she walks by.
Images of her carefully tucking her pet snakes into their enclosures, treating them with the tenderness of a mother putting her children to bed, flash through my mind.
And then there’s the memory of her kiss, one that made me feel significant, cherished.
A slow, genuine smile spreads across my face, and I find myself nodding. “Yeah. I think I am,” I confess, feeling a warmth spreading through me.
Kenzie, sitting beside me, lets out a long-held breath, as if she had been waiting for my admission. Her shoulders relax visibly.
Leaning forward, Ally taps the bar with gentle insistence. “Then maybe don’t give up just yet. Maybe… try being her friend. No pressure. Support her. Let her come to you.”
Kenzie chimes in with a playful grin, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “And definitely apologize,” she adds, emphasizing this with a nod. “That part’s key.”
My hand snaps to my forehead as if drawn by an invisible force, my fingers pressing into my skin. “Wait… wait—did we ever apologize to her?” I mutter under my breath, my stomach churning.
My mind races frantically, sifting through every text message, every awkward run-in since she stormed out. I see the argument playing like a movie in my head, her face flushed with anger, her voice raised, and then the sound of the door slamming shut behind her.
My heart feels like it’s sinking into my chest.
Ally and Kenzie watch me intently, their eyes wide and expectant, not a hint of their usual teasing. They remain quiet, holding their breath.
“Nooo,” I groan, the word stretching out as if it could somehow lessen the weight of the realization crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. It’s the groan of a man who’s just remembered he’s missed an anniversary. “No, no, no, no—tell me we didn’t screw this up that bad.”
Kenzie arches her eyebrows, disbelief etched across her face. “Seriously?”
Ally tightens her crossed arms, leaning forward as if to drive the point home. “Thomas. You mean to tell us that after she dropped the bomb about being pregnant and moving out, none of you even said sorry?”
The groan escapes my lips again, deeper this time, a sound that seems to come from the very pit of my being. The truth hits me like a punch to the gut.
It’s all so clear now. Her sudden silence, the way she avoided us as if we were strangers. She must think we didn’t give a damn.
Kenzie shakes her head slowly, disappointment shadowing her features. “No wonder she won’t talk to you guys.”
Ally’s voice softens, her tone gentle and encouraging. “Look, if you really love her, if you all love her… you’ll do the right thing. All of you will.”
I nod as understanding and resolve begin to replace the shame swirling inside me. “Yeah… you’re right. I can’t believe we didn’t…”
My voice trails off, but my mind is made up. It’s time to make things right.
Despite the gravity of the moment, a chuckle escapes my lips. “So you’re saying I should play the long game?”
“Play the real game,” Ally advises softly, her gaze steady and sincere. “The one that matters.”
I slide my phone out of my pocket, feeling the cool metal against my fingertips, and quickly tap out a message to the group chat.
Hey… did either of you ever actually apologize to Jinx?
The little typing bubbles appear, first Rowan’s, then Bruno’s, hovering on the screen like tiny, flickering lights. Then, just as quickly, they disappear, leaving the screen blank and silent. I roll my eyes, exhale a frustrated sigh, and type again.
Yeah. Me either. Should we maybe do that?
A heavy pause follows, the kind that makes the room feel still and expectant. Then, the dots come back to life.
Bruno is typing… Rowan is typing…
I lean against the polished wooden bar, my heart pounding like I’m in the climax of a suspense thriller. Finally, Bruno’s message arrives with a soft ping.
Shit. Yes. We should.
Right on its heels is Rowan’s response.
Yeah. We royally fucked up.
I shake my head, a grin spreading across my face despite the tension in my chest, and I type again.
Okay. We’re all idiots. Let’s fix it.
I glance over at Kenzie and Ally, who sit across from me at the sleek, dimly-lit bar, their eyes keen and watchful despite their pretense of casual indifference.
I lift my drink, the condensation cool against my palm. “Thanks for the pep talk, ladies. I think you might’ve saved our dumb asses.”
Kenzie’s lips curve into a smile. “Well, it’s not every day we get to coach the players.”
“Just… be sincere,” Ally advises, swirling the last of her drink before setting the glass down with a gentle clink. “That’s all she ever wanted.”
And suddenly, for the first time in weeks, hope blooms in my chest.
Maybe we have a real shot at making things right.