29. Fishin’ in the Dark
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
fishin’ in the dark
LOGAN
WINNIPEG, MANITOBA
PRESENT DAY
We’re at a little hole in the wall country bar in Winnipeg, stuffing our faces with greasy cheeseburgers before we head back to the hotel for the night. I’ve gotta say, one of the biggest perks about sleeping with your road trip buddy? One bed is a hell of a lot less pricey than two.
Abi’s hair is swept up into a messy half-ponytail with some curly strands framing her face. She’s in an oversized dress shirt that’s covered in little cartoon ghosts. All she’s got on her face is some red lipstick, but even in the shitty bar lighting, she glows; the only thing dimming her shine is the contemplative look in her eyes.
“You’re quiet,” I murmur. “You alright?”
“Yeah… I’m just thinking.”
“Would you like to tell the class?”
She rolls her eyes, dragging her french fry through a mountain of ketchup on her plate. Putting ketchup on everything is definitely her worst quality. It’s simply vile, but I adore her, so I put up with it.
“I feel inadequate.”
Her chin trembles.
“What do you mean?”
“I keep thinking about the reunion, and everyone’s getting married and having kids. They’ve started their lives, and I?—”
“Have a PhD, do cool research, and let’s not forget you have a great job with a handsome and brilliant colleague.” I gesture at her with my burger. “Your fiancé, I might add.”
That ring I bought in Banff is burning a hole in my pocket, but it’s not the right time.
“Okay, fair. But let’s be honest, I’m not making the same kind of money as the rest of the faculty.”
Academia is surprisingly competitive and demanding for how little it pays. To get ahead, you have to give some things up: sometimes it’s marriage, or kids, and let’s not forget your social life. It makes sense for her to be a little bitter about losing out on those things.
While everyone else is growing and changing, you feel like you’re stuck at the starting line. After a while, the work becomes your solace, more like a vocation than just a job. The issue is you need that passion or it completely drains you.
“I guess I just thought I’d be further ahead by now,” she sighs.
“You graduated high school, what, ten years ago?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what I was doing ten years after high school graduation?”
“Writing policies and presenting findings on resources for unhoused people in New York. You know I’ve googled you, Logan.”
I’m a little bit taken aback. I guess underselling my own achievements isn’t in the cards when Abi’s involved.
“Make sure you keep that Not Safe for Work search on when you do that,” I joke. “That’s a deep dark history you’re diving into when you look into Logan Flynn.”
It gets a laugh out of her despite the somber look in her eyes.
“I’m not trying to be ungrateful, but everything just seemed so clear back then. I was supposed to get married to someone I thought I really loved, and then suddenly my whole life was upended and I had to start over. Sometimes I think about all the lives I could have lived, like that multiverse theory, you know?”
“Yeah, me too.”
I have so many imagined futures, but the only one I want is with her.
Except the one where I’m Batman, it’s all me in that universe, baby.
“You know if you need anything…” I reach over, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’m always here.”
“You’ve already gone above and beyond,” she laughs, squeezing my hand back. “But thank you.”
This is just the kind of shit we do for each other. When I landed on her doorstep the night I got stood up, she could have told me she was busy, but she dropped everything just for me. I hope she knows I’d do the same thing for her in a heartbeat.
“So, tell me more things about home.” I sip my soda water. “Were you cool in high school? Maybe one of those edgy kids on the fringes?”
“God no!” She laughs. “I was a big nerd, hung out with the kids who played Dungeons and Dragons, and spent almost all my time in the library. I got picked on a lot.”
“I got picked on too,” I chuckle. “Any notable bullies? Mine were ridiculous.”
“There were two. Carly Reynolds and Melissa Walsh. Carly started in on me when I wore the same dress as her to some stupid school dance in grade 8, and then it got worse when Brendan, who was kind of this outcast bad boy, asked me to grad.”
“Grad? Like you guys brought dates to your graduation?”
“No, grad is like prom. Carly got Melissa to write slut on my locker, and all her little goons filled it with tampons covered in ketchup, shit like that. Then she found out about my dad’s drug problem and started calling me Junkie . You know, as a cute little nickname.”
“What a bitch.”
I knew some teenage girls could be vicious, but that’s going the extra mile.
“Yeah,” she sighs, twisting her pint glass until it makes a ring on the table. “And now she’s married to my ex.”
She shrugs, biting into another fry. I wish I could say something to comfort her, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. Her past is the only part of her I’ve never had a real connection to.
“What about you? Who was your biggest high school bully?”
“Jackson Pierce.”
“Jesus, what a name. He already sounds like a prick,” Abi chuckles.
“He was a football player, and like four of me across. I truly have no idea why he didn’t like me, it feels like one day he just decided I was the one he was going to torment for the entirety of senior year. One day we were in gym class, last period before the end of the day. Jackson and a bunch of his buddies tackled me, stripped me naked, and filmed themselves kicking the crap out of me. They sent it to everyone at school. And I mean everyone .”
As the words come out, I realize how much of this stuff I’ve pushed down over the years. I guess I’m not as well-adjusted and carefree about my past as I thought. I can still feel the sharp kicks to my ribs, and taste the grainy dirt from the football field as it clung to the blood in my mouth. I was humiliated, but I covered it up by making it all one big joke.
“Your bullies sound like they walked right out of a John Hughes movie.”
“They kind of do, huh,” I laugh. “I remember after that, Amanda Lisbon, who was like the coolest girl in school, Cheerleader, blonde, pretty and popular… the whole package. Well, Jackson dared her to ask me out, like as a joke, in front of the entire school cafeteria. It kind of crushed me. I almost didn’t even go to prom after that.”
“But you did, right?”
These are the moments when I wish I’d known Abi all my life. I definitely would have taken her to prom— I mean, if she wasn’t ten years younger than me, and we lived in the same country.
“I ended up going though, with my friend Samantha. We were in the chess club together. Dressed up like Wizards.”
She leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as nods.
“Yeah, you know what, I can see it! You do seem like a chess club sorta nerd.”
“Hey!” I chuckle. “You don’t get to act all holier than thou. Our high school selves were absolutely cut from the same geeky cloth.”
“True, true,” she sighs, starting to get that far off look in her eyes again.
I prod her under the table with my foot.
“Hey, no moping. Tell me more stuff about home.”
“Why do you want to know so much?”
“Because I like learning new things, especially when they’re about my favorite person.”
She fiddles with her necklace, unable to keep herself from beaming. It would be so easy to cross the line. There’s a part of me that wants to throw caution to the wind, be totally reckless— I mean more reckless than I’m already being. That part of me wants to say I don’t give a shit about my job, I don’t give a shit what the department thinks, I just want this.
But the problem is, I do care.
And that’s what makes this so hard.
“Um… well, when we get there, it’ll probably be hot as hell outside, but the falls cool everything down a bit.” Abi smiles. “I used to spend a lot of time out there swimming with Kat, it’s beautiful.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I packed my booty shorts, then.”
“No short shorts at the reunion! That’s an ass-free zone.”
I put my hand on my chest, mouth agape in faux-shock.
“Even my ass? You would deny the world that? You’ve seen it in person! I’m bringing the cake!”
Abi rests her chin on her hands, shaking her head with a groan.
“Are you thinking about my ass?”
“No, you dork,” she cackles, smacking me in the arm. “I’m just thinking.”
She plucks one of the last fries from her plate and tears it half before popping a bit of it in her mouth.
“I was just thinking about how this whole thing’s played out.”
“You mean the sex? That we had together? Last night?”
As I reach over to give her hand another gentle squeeze, I notice a small crowd of people making their way onto the dance floor. Some music begins to play, a lot louder than the twangy country that had been the accompaniment to our conversation.
Abi gasps as she realizes, her eyes lighting up while she taps her fingers on the table. And then, the crowd starts to dance. All of them, dropping into form and following each other’s lead.
“Is this a flash mob or something?” I shout over the music. “Do people even do those anymore?”
“I don’t know!” She laughs. “But this song is great!”
She leans forward, almost like she’s being pulled in that direction
“I don’t know it.”
“It’s called Fishin’ in the Dark! It’s a classic!”
Abi keeps tapping on the table, bobbing her head with that cute little grin, and I can’t take it anymore. This woman clearly wants to dance, and goddammit, I’ll humiliate myself in front of all these people if that’s what it takes.
I get to my feet.
“What are you doing?”
“You wanna dance with a mega dork who doesn’t have a country bone in his body?”
“Seriously?”
“Let’s boogie.”
Abi lets out a little squeal, taking my hand and leading me out onto the dance floor.
She moves slowly at first, teaching me step by step. A whole PhD and I still fuck up my lefts and rights. My dad used to say I was about as coordinated as a newborn foal on ice… but then again, I had to get my dancing genes from someone. Let’s just say this is a man who thought every song called for The Running Man.
I kind of feel like it’s my first school dance, with the girl I’ve had a crush on for ages. You would think those teenage nerves fade over the years, but she makes me feel like that stupid, gangly kid all over again.
That’s another reason it’s hard to date other women, none of them make me feel the way she does. With almost everyone else, I’m putting on a front and pretending to be someone I’m not. It’s taken me years to figure out the best way to live your life is spending it with your people, the ones who give you the freedom to be yourself, nerves and all.
Abi grasps my wrists, smiling up at me.
“Alright, training wheels off. Put your hands on my hips.”
I let her guide me, swaying to the music as she flashes me an approving smile. It’s a lot better than tripping over my own feet.
“Atta boy.”
Those two words send me into a tailspin, and before I can think my lips are on hers.
Kissing Abi feels like watching the fireworks on the Fourth of July, my body fully lit up, stomach swarming with butterflies. I know to some extent this is just make-believe, but lost in this moment I just don’t care.
“Sorry,” she laughs as we pull apart, gliding her thumb across my lips. “I don’t own any transfer-proof lipstick.”
“I like it,” I lean forward, nipping at her ear and slipping into my new favorite role. “But I like it even better when it’s on my cock.”
Abi barks out a nervous laugh, squeezing my ass almost reflexively.
“You’re the Devil, Flynn.”
“Don’t let my Irish ancestors hear that. They hate the guy.”
Suddenly, Abi gasps, cupping my face in her hands. Her eyes dance with excitement as the dance floor explodes with whoops and hollers.
“I fucking love Shania Twain!” Abi squeals.
“This isn’t that let’s go girls song, is it?” I ask. “Because that’s the only one I know.”
“No, this is better! It’s called No One Needs to Know !”
I watch in awe as nearly the entire bar mills onto the dance floor, each and every one of them falling in line.
“Just follow everyone else’s feet!” She shouts over the music. “It’s easy!”
“Easy?!” I yelp, watching people tap their toes against the floor in some manner of rhythm I can’t quite grasp. “Reading Das Kapital is easy. This is…”
“Okay, then follow my lead! I got this!”
She pulls me next to her as everyone moves to the side, crossing one foot over the other as they walk. Abi picks it up well, but I’m so off-beat it would be devastating in anyone else’s company.
But with her?
The more I unravel about Abi, the deeper I fall for her.
But the deeper the fall, the more painful the landing.