Chapter 43
The Scratching Post was two towns over in Antsville. Probably named for its small population. A whopping seventy people lived there. But the out-of-the-way bar wasn’t afraid to bend the rules on drinking age.
Which was apparent by the many familiar faces from Winter Lake milling about.
Even though she’d never been here, it felt familiar. She’d seen it enough in social media posts from other kids in her class. The run-down siding. The parking lot with a mix of sedans, SUVs, and motorcycles with shining chrome fixtures.
Inside, Grace stepped on discarded peanut shells as she watched a patron throw another handful to the floor.
She supposed the place didn’t care about anyone with peanut allergies.
There were so many people crowded in the small space that Grace had to brush against half a dozen sweaty bodies before making it to the bar.
Looking around, no one would know there was an infectious disease warning.
She tried to lift onto her toes to see over the crowd toward the stage but was too short.
Someone jostled her from behind in their hurry to meet up with friends, and Grace almost went down on the sticky floor. She was starting to regret coming and turned to the exit when Zoe appeared at her elbow.
“Gracie, you actually came?” They sounded incredulous.
She forced a smile, pretending that she wasn’t worried about contracting tetanus in the grungy space. “Of course. I have to support the band.”
“Sorry, I just know you hate going out on…all days.”
Usually Grace would laugh at the very accurate joke.
She did like her alone time. So often she was attending committee meetings or study groups, or doing volunteer work.
She liked to rest when she could. But it was all for nothing, apparently.
Because her plans for her bright future had all been completely demolished today. Maybe it was time to try something new.
“I’m changing things up,” Grace said, affecting a bright tone. As if to prove it, she leaned against the sticky bar, resisting the urge to cringe, and signaled the bartender. “A beer, please.”
“What kind?” he asked.
“Whatever’s on tap.” She’d heard people say that in movies, right?
“We have four beers on tap,” the bartender said.
“Oh, um.” She surveyed the tap handles nervously. “The, uh, shark one.”
“The IPA?”
“Yeah.” Grace had no idea what that meant, but she tried her best to sound confident in her choice. She really hoped she hadn’t just picked a beer that actually tasted like fish.
“You sure you want to drink?” Zoe asked, eyeing Grace. “Didn’t you drive here?”
“I’m good,” Grace said. “I’m just having fun.”
Zoe pursed their lips in concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Didn’t you have your big interview? How’d it go?”
Grace hunched under her friend’s knowing stare. This wasn’t why she came here. She wanted to forget about that disaster.
“I thought you hated when I talked about school stuff,” Grace said.
That just made Zoe’s eyes narrow. “Come on, Gracie. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Calling Zo for sound check,” Teens said into the mic onstage.
“Crap.” They hesitated, looking back and forth between Grace and their waiting band.
“Go, you’ve got a performance to do.”
Zoe still looked torn but nodded. “Just…have fun, okay, Gracie?”
She heard the worry in her friend’s voice and gave an exaggerated thumbs-up, fake smile plastered to her face. She was good at fake smiles and pretending like she wasn’t miserable. She’d perfected them in the last few months.
The bartender returned. “Fifteen dollars.”
“Fifteen?” Even she knew that was overpriced.
“Yeah, it includes the no-ID-no-questions fee. Cash only.”
“Ah.” Grace pulled out the cash and took the mug gingerly, so the foam wouldn’t spill, and took a gentle sip. The bitterness of the hops made her cough.
“Whoa, look who’s partying. K-pop!” Griffin lifted his hand for a high five as he leaned on the bar beside her.
His blond hair was a bit mussed and blue eyes a bit too bright, like he was already a few drinks in.
He wore his letterman jacket even though it was getting hot in the bar with all the bodies.
“Hey, Griff.” Grace tried another sip. This one wasn’t just foam, and it went down easier. She didn’t love the taste, but she wasn’t going to waste fifteen dollars.
“What’re you doing here? And drinking? That’s not like my VP.” Griffin laughed, and there was a little bit of a viciousness to it. Grace wondered if it had always been there and she’d just never noticed. Or maybe she never wanted to notice, because it was easier to pretend things were all good.
“I guess I’m broadening my horizons,” Grace shouted over the strumming of guitars and bass onstage as the band warmed up.
“Listen, Link told me you got upset about something at the carnival. But you know we’re solid, right? You’re my VP.”
Grace gave him a blank stare. Of course he was trying to brush it all off.
“So, we good?” Griffin bumped her shoulder with his, almost pushing her into the bar.
She told herself to let it go. To force one of her smiles and tell him it was all good. Even though her stomach clenched as she took a big swig of her beer, replacing one kind of bitterness with another. “Yeah,” she bit out. “Sure, we’re fine.”
“Awesome.” Griffin slapped her back hard enough to smart. “Let’s do a shot together to seal the deal.”
“Oh no, I don’t really—” Grace started.
But Griffin shouted over her protest, “Two tequila shots, por favor!”
Grace cringed at his horrible and unnecessary Spanish. She clenched her teeth, reminding herself it was easier to just go along, though that seemed harder to do right now. She took another long gulp of beer.
“Hey, slow down, you’re probably a total Asian lightweight.” Griffin slapped her back again. The bartender plopped down two overflowing shot glasses. As Griffin shoved one into her hand, the liquid sloshed onto her sleeve.
And, with nothing else to do, Grace drank hers.
“Hey, Griff, doing shots without us?” A couple of varsity guys shoved forward.
Griffin laughed. “Nah, just warming up. You’ll have to catch up.” He lifted a hand for four more shots.
When he held one out to Grace, she shook her head, her throat still burning from the last one. “I’m good.”
“Come on, you have to! Rejecting a shot is lame,” Griffin insisted.
Grace saw the others watching her with looks halfway to derision already. Like they expected her to chicken out. So she took the shot.
“Nice!” Griffin clinked his glass to hers. “How do you say cheers in Chinese?” Griffin asked with a drunken laugh.
Grace almost answered, because she did know. But she was still barely holding in her annoyance at him. So, she let herself say, “I’m not Chinese. I’m Korean.”
“Ah, my bad.” Griffin laughed again. He lifted his glass. “Domo arigato!” he shouted before downing his shot.
“That’s Japanese.” Maybe she should slow down. Her skin felt a little too hot already.
“Who cares?” one of the varsity guys said with a laugh.
“Probably like two hundred million people?” Grace said.
“Huh?” Griffin’s other friend actually scratched his head, like the figure was too much for his slow brain to process.
“That’s the population of Korea plus Japan. They’d probably care if you mixed up Japanese with Korean.”
Griffin laughed. “Sweet. Learn something new every day! That’s why I like having my favorite Asian nerd around, right?” Griffin slung an arm around her neck that felt more like a headlock than a friendly gesture.
Maybe that’s what broke her. Or maybe it was just literally everything that had been weighing her down for days now.
But all the microaggressions she’d faced from Griffin over the years congregated in her gut.
Grace jerked away from him, forcefully enough that she bumped hard into the bar. “No, Griffin, I’m not your Asian nerd.”
Griffin’s face became slack with shock. “Whoa, calm down.”
“I am calm,” Grace said, even as tears filled her eyes, proving her wrong.
“It’s just a joke.”
“No, it’s not. Do you call other people ‘white jocks’ or ‘Caucasian cheerleaders’? I know you don’t. You only do it to me.”
Griffin looked almost angry now. “Are you calling me racist?”
“That doesn’t matter. All that matters is I want you to stop. Can you do that? Can you just stop?”
He laughed. “You’re not going to have another complete breakdown, Baksh—” He cut himself off, but Grace stepped forward, shoving her face in his.
“No, say it. I want to hear you say it. Bakshit, right? ’Cause even though you pretend to be nice to my face, I know you still call me that behind my back.”
Griffin’s smile faded as he scoffed. “Oh, yeah, Link told me you spied on us.”
“What? I didn’t!”
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Zoe asked, sidling up, taking a beer from one of Griffin’s friends. Downing it in one gulp.
“Nothing,” Griffin said, still glaring at Grace. “You know we were only nice to you because you’re Lincoln’s loser friend, right?”
Zoe stepped between them. “Hey, Griff, I forgot to tell you, basic bitches who are clearly peaking in high school aren’t invited to my show.”
“What?” Griffin looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be offended or amused.
Grace realized conversations around them had stopped, the volume in the bar lowering as people turned to watch the confrontation.
“I said, get your ass the hell out of my show, or I’ll physically remove you myself,” Zoe said.
“You really think you can?” One of Griffin’s friends loomed over Zoe with his huge basketball frame.
“You want to find out?” Zoe wasn’t backing down.
“You little bi—”
Zoe struck fast, jabbing the guy in the eye in a repeat of that first day they rescued Grace from a middle school bully.
“What the fuck, Zoe!” Griffin shouted.
“Hey!” shouted the bartender. “No fighting or the show is canceled.”
“Sorry, Frank,” Zoe called back.
Griffin looked like he’d love nothing more than to retaliate, but Frank called out, “I mean it, either walk away or I’ll come out from behind this bar.”
As Frank was tall as a tree and had the muscles of a former WWE fighter, Griffin backed down. “You’re a bitch.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Zoe said.
As Griffin and his lackeys pushed through the crowd to leave the bar, Zoe turned to Grace. “You okay?”
“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be finishing your sound check?
” Grace could see the harsh glares. The whispered conversations.
Some even had their phones out, suspiciously aimed at Grace and Zoe still.
This was going to get around school, she knew it.
And she knew that it would be warped to all be blamed on her somehow. Once a freak, always a freak.
“I saw Griffin being an ass to you from the stage. Did you really expect me to do nothing?” Zoe asked.
“But it’s not helping anymore,” Grace insisted. More eyes turned toward them.
It was happening again, her carefully tucked away frustrations spinning in protest against the jars she kept them locked in.
Grace pushed desperately through the crowd, needing to escape. But the crush of bodies made it hard to find a clear path, and she broke free by the bathrooms instead of the exit.
“Grace!” Zoe caught up and clamped down on her arm. “Stop. Talk to me.”
“You just don’t know how messed up everything is right now.”
“Then tell me,” Zoe said.
“There’s nothing to tell. I just need to survive until graduation and then…” She trailed off as she suddenly remembered that wasn’t going to happen anymore. Her ten-year plan had been torn to shreds today. “I just need to…I just need…”
“Grace, please, just talk to me. You keep pretending like everything’s okay, but I can tell it’s not.”
“Of course it’s not! I’m trying and trying to be better and I just keep screwing up even more.” Grace felt like she could barely breathe and pounded at her chest to clear out her struggling lungs. The pain a muffled throb.
“You’re not screwing up,” Zoe insisted. “You’re just sad.”
“And when will I stop being sad?” Grace asked desperately, clinging to her friend’s arm for fear she’d sink to the sticky ground outside the restrooms. “When will this be over?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Zo, why’d you run off?” Teens pushed through the crowd. “We’ve still got a set to play. Whoa, Gracie, you okay? You’re looking kind of green.”
“She’s fine,” Zoe said, shifting to block Grace with their body. “Just had too much to drink.”
“Oh yeah? Did you make the mistake of trying the fireball? Rookie move.” Teens leaned in to smack Grace’s shoulder.
And it just jostled her nerves. She let out a gasp that turned into a sob, a tear escaping to trail down her cheek.
“Whoa, hey, I didn’t hit you that hard, did I?” Teens looked horrified and it just frayed Grace’s razor-thin hold on her composure. She felt like she was two seconds away from breaking.
“Nah, she’s fine,” Zoe said casually, like everything was good, but Grace could see the tension in their shoulders. “I think I’m gonna have to skip out of the show and drive her home.”
“What? No! We’ll get her a water or something.” Teens started to turn to call to Frank.
“No!” Grace blurted out. She wouldn’t screw up Zoe’s night like she’d screwed up her own. She shouldn’t have come here. She didn’t belong here. “I’m good. I’ll just get some fresh air and take off.”
“Grace, wait.”
But she was already pushing through the crowd, letting it swallow her before Zoe could stop her. Desperate to escape before she ruined anything else.