Chapter 15 #2
Even though I’d curated a list of reasons as to why this wasn’t the best choice for me and I could taste the regret on my tongue, I found myself saying, “Okay. When are you heading out?”
* * *
In case anyone was wondering, regret tasted like cheap gin and Sprite masquerading as tonic.
Regret started out sweet in cloying, unpleasant ways and the gin burned the back of my throat. And then regret was bitter, as I attempted to cover up that sweetness with vodka and cranberry juice, but the saccharine lingered.
Worse than that poor excuse for a cocktail were my surroundings.
Low ceilings, dark walls, and a constant cloud of beer-scented humidity made this bar feel like an armpit of the underworld.
Even worse than that, Gagne and Valdosta and all the other people I’d met tonight left while I was in the restroom.
I circled the bar twice, passing the now-empty table where a dozen or so teachers had been gathered for the past few hours and pausing at each shadowed booth and axe-throwing lane. I ducked into both bathrooms and checked the parking lot. Gagne’s Honda was nowhere to be found.
Everyone was gone and they’d forgotten about me.
I refused to consider the possibility that they’d intentionally left me there. I couldn’t do that. Not while gin and vodka made my thoughts slow and squishy.
I plopped myself down at the bar, resting my arms on the surface for a second before noticing it was sticky. The bartender approached and set a coaster in front of me. He was cute in a skinny guy, long beard kind of way. “What’ll it be?”
Motioning to the table littered with beer pitchers, glasses, and decimated plates of chicken wings, I asked, “Do you know where that group went?”
He shot a quick glance over my shoulder and shook his head. “I just got here a few minutes ago.”
“No worries,” I replied, though I had many worries. “Could I get a vodka cranberry?”
I didn’t need another drink. I didn’t need the last two but the conversation had been flowing and it was easy enough to order another round, and then another.
Though the group wasn’t exactly my speed—heavy on the brewskies, bros, and sportsball, as I’d predicted—it was fun being with people and sharing in the struggles of back-to-school.
Tears stung my eyes as I thought about talking and laughing with the group all night only for them to pay the tab and walk out while I was away from the table.
Of all the ridiculous things that had happened to me in bathrooms in the past month, from the pee-listening lady to Noah learning the topography of my ass, this one hit the hardest. I didn’t want to cry over casual acquaintances but I knew I’d never let this happen to any casual acquaintance of mine.
The bartender set the drink in front of me but I didn’t touch it.
Instead, I pulled out my phone and logged into a car service app.
I ended up opening and closing the app five times, assuming this sticky little corner of hell didn’t have the best internet service, before realizing the shortage of cars on my screen wasn’t a glitch.
No, there was only one car available in the area and it wouldn’t arrive for forty-five to sixty minutes. I requested the car and stared at the screen for a moment, waiting for confirmation. It didn’t come.
“I could’ve been in bed,” I grumbled to myself. “Instead of talking about the freshest drama in girls’ volleyball all night.”
I opened my text messages, scrolled past Jaime, Audrey, Grace, and Emme.
Even if they wanted to help me, they were more than forty-five to sixty minutes away.
I stopped at Noah. We didn’t text each other often.
Hell, we didn’t speak to each other often.
Part of that was changing Gennie’s schedule and the start of school.
The other part was we hadn’t figured out our relationship yet.
Not that we had a relationship.
We were married but only as a technicality.
And we were friends but more like old friends who didn’t know how to pick up where they’d left off.
There were moments when we slipped right into old familiarity and they were the best moments.
It felt like I had my friend back. But there were moments when we stumbled over each other and we couldn’t find our way through time and misunderstandings.
I tapped his name and read the last message he’d sent. It was from Wednesday, saying he was running a few minutes late at the dairy and would I mind hanging with Gennie a bit longer? Of course I didn’t mind.
I started typing.
Shay: Why is it that car services are nonexistent in this part of the world?
Shay: I just think it’s really rude that I have to wait 45–60 minutes for a ride.
Shay: You’re always telling me that this town has changed but where the hell are the car services? What about food delivery? We are still in the backwoods as far as the important things are concerned.
Noah: Where are you right now?
Shay: I don’t know.
Noah: I need you to do better than that. Where the hell are you?
Shay: I’m at a bar with sticky surfaces and axe throwing.
Noah: Have you been drinking?
Shay: Only a little bit.
Noah: Define little bit.
Shay: I started with a gin and tonic but that was heinous so I switched over to vodka cranberries because even the grossest bars have to be able to get that right.
Noah: And you don’t know where you are?
Shay: Not a clue.
Noah: How did you get there?
Shay: With a lacrosse coach.
Noah: Can you ask someone the name of the bar? Or look around for a sign?
I waved to the bartender. “What is the name of this place?”
He smiled as he ran a glance over my maple leaf earrings and down my navy t-shirt dress. “Billy’s,” he said. “That’s what everyone calls it. Officially, it’s Woodchuckers.” He pointed toward the axe-throwing lanes. “Are you up for a round?”
“Hmm.” I shook my head. “Maybe later.”
“Holler if you change your mind,” he said, stepping away. “I’ll set you up.”
Shay: The cute bartender said it’s Billy’s but also Woodchuckers.
Shay: He says I can throw some axes if I want. He’ll set me up.
Noah: Tell the cute bartender you’re married.
Shay: I’m only a little married.
Noah: Like you’re only a little drunk?
Shay: Now it says my car won’t be here for 75 minutes. This is bullshit.
Shay: It only takes 75 minutes to get somewhere in Rhode Island if you’re coming from Massachusetts.
Noah: Cancel the car. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.
Shay: You don’t have to come get me.
Noah: That doesn’t change the fact that I am.
Noah: Stay where you are. Drink some water. Don’t touch any axes.
Noah: Or bartenders.