Hannah
The sign outside of Calico flashes neon pink and blue, lighting up the cab of my truck from my spot in the parking lot.
I circled the block three times before finally pulling in and spending five minutes trying to find a spot.
This place is packed, and by packed I mean people are flooding out from the main room and crammed together on the outdoor patio.
All I really want to do is crawl in my bed and cry, but I spent too long picking out my outfit to go back and rot away in my bed, crying over some cowboy.
“Mama didn’t raise no bitch,” I say to myself, flipping down the visor and reapplying my makeup in the tiny mirror. Satisfied with my appearance, I fluff my loose curls that I spent extra time on after my shower and hop out of my truck.
From the outside, the place looked crowded, but from the inside, it’s damn near busting at the seams. A mechanical bull is in full swing to my left, a group of people cheering as some girl's tits about fly out from her tight top with one sharp swing of the bull. A big dance floor sits in the middle of the room, the sides lined with more cowboy hats than any rodeo I’ve ridden in.
High top tables fill up most of the open space, and two separate bars line the walls on each side of the dance floor.
I shove past bodies clad in denim and pearl snap shirts, making my way to the bar.
Squeezing between a pair of men, I wave down the bartender,
“Can I get some water, please?” With a nod, she turns back around and I watch her grab a glass and fill it before making her way back to me.
Thanking her, I take a long gulp and turn to watch the dance floor.
A line dance plays loudly over the speakers, a simple one that every country fan learns in middle school.
I smile and tap my foot along while sipping on my drink.
“Need something a little stronger, sugar?” I jump at the sudden proximity of the man next to me.
He pulls back with an overly sweet smile, perfect white teeth, and dimples.
His white tee glows underneath the neon lights of the bar behind us.
Setting my drink down, I turn to face him, ready for a distraction from the dark cowboy who will haunt my dreams for many nights to come.
Walking backwards, I crook my finger at him.
“Yeah, dance with me,” I say loudly over the music.
He looks to his friend next to him, gives him a nod then swivels his head back in my direction.
Feeling bold, I hook my fingers into his belt loops when he gets close enough to me and pull him onto the floor.
His smile is one I’m sure would have any woman’s stomach fluttering with butterflies, but he’s just too…
perfect. I miss the dimple in Dean’s chin and the way his eyes narrow at me when he thinks I’m funny.
Fuck, I curse myself, and try to get lost in the music and the sounds of boots thumping against the wood floor.
We dance for a while, until my feet ache and sweat dampens my hairline.
A slow song comes on and the man beside me turns to me, reaching his arms out to pull me close.
The moment his hands make contact with my skin, it all feels wrong, too wrong.
But I ignore the flashing warning in my brain and let him pull me closer until our chests touch.
His breath tickles my neck when he leans in, “Your body is insane.” I honestly can’t decide if I should laugh or gag.
Resisting the urge to do either, I reply with the only thing that comes to mind,
“Thanks,” I say on a laugh. From the corner of my eye, a flash of black snags my attention. Whipping my head in that direction, I push up on my tiptoes to get a look over the sea of bodies.
“Everything ok?” I look back up at this man who I’ve given the completely wrong idea to.
As much as I wish I could get drunk and fuck Dean out of my system with some nobody I just met, I know deep down that won’t erase him from my mind.
Any time this man’s fingertips graze my lower back, my feet try to step away.
Dean has seeped into every crack, just like ink in water, and no matter how hard I try to scrub him out, he’s stained me.
His hands on my skin, his filthy mouth whispering in my ear, his tongue between my legs.
Shaking my head I pull away. “I just need some water,” I call over my shoulder, already winding through the crowd back to the bar.
I spot his friend leaning casually against the bar top.
His eyes snap to me as I approach quickly.
With a nod and smile, he turns, grabs a glass of water, and hands it to me.
“Y’all were gone a while, thought you could use a drink.”
In an attempt to delay talking to either one of them, I take a long gulp just as my dance partner slides up alongside his friend and eyes me as I drink.
“Thanks,” I say back to them before turning slowly and watching the crowd.
I felt brave walking in here, but now that I’m here, all I want to do is walk out the door and wallow in self-pity.
Looking around the room, my mind spirals trying to work out how to make my exit.
My feet throb, and I know I won’t make it far if I don’t sit down for a second.
So I hop up on the stool next to the pair of them.
The silence between us grows awkward, but he’s been kind enough so I lean over and ask them, “Are you two from around here?”
The pair share a look before turning back to me. “We just graduated from Colorado State. Didn’t want to go home for the summer, so we decided to stay for a while.”
My head bobs up and down. Fuck, this is awkward. “I didn’t catch your names, I’m Hannah.” I stick my hand out clumsily.
“I’m Mike.” The man who I danced with gives me a wink then motions to his friend.
“And this is Josh.” The two of them turn into four, and I blink away the dizziness from my eyes.
I try to look down at my watch, but my fingers fumble and the numbers blur together.
I usually do well on lack of sleep, and I don’t think I’ve been here that long, but the longer I sit on this stool, the more exhausted I feel.
Hoping to wash it away, I take another sip of the water in my hand.
“So cool,” I say to them, hoping that they don’t pick up on how sick I’m starting to feel.
After another minute, my body only feels worse.
My head is throbbing and the room begins to corkscrew around me.
“I think I’m gonna head home, I have an early morning,” I lie, trying to set my glass on the bar, but missing by a good foot.
I watch through tunnel vision as the glass slips from my hand and shatters on the floor.
“Shit!” Trying to hop off the stool, I only make it about a second before my legs give out and I feel my body start to melt to the floor.
“Woah, woah, woah.” Mike's arms jolt out and catch me around the middle before hauling me into his side. His friend leans over the bar and says something to the bartender that I can’t quite make out, and then we’re moving towards the exit.
I want to protest, tell them that I don’t want to leave with them, but I feel so sick that any help to get me into my bed sounds like a gesture I can’t turn down.
The urge to call Dean is so overwhelming I can feel tears start to prickle the back of my eyes.
“Don’t cry, sugar, we’ll take good care of you.
” The slam of the heavy door behind us makes me flinch, but the cool night air helps me sober up just enough to get my feet under me.
When I try to push off from the arms holding me up, they just grow tighter.
Sirens blare in my head, but everything around me moves in slow motion. I feel my bag tug at my shoulder and roll my head to the side, watching as Mike digs through my purse and pulls out my truck keys. Lights flash in the back part of the lot, and I curse myself for parking so far away.
“Fancy truck,” Josh tuts, and they chuckle darkly.
“She likes ‘em big, doesn’t she?” They share a laugh, making quick work of covering the distance to my truck. A group of girls passes us by, and I try to open my mouth to ask for help, but my lips feel like they are glued together. I watch with tears in my eyes as they pass by.
“Hey!” Relief washes over me. Mike and Josh skid to a stop before looking over their shoulders at the girl.
“Is she ok?” I want to scream and run to her.
Josh drops his hold on me and mumbles quietly to Mike, “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.
” His eyes dip to mine, bile works up my throat at the sight of his tongue sweeping over his lip.
“You owe me man.” Then he turns away talking to the girls as his bootsteps fade away, then I’m being pushed back into motion.
Dread builds in my stomach as we round the hood of my truck and I’m hidden from view, cast in the shadows of the overhanging trees.