15. No. 19 Join a team #2
“He there?” A bodyless voice sounds out and I notice the phone in Bea’s hand, held out in front of her like she’s still on a video call.
“Hi,” I say to Bea, letting my smile creep up on one side, apologies I need to voice out loud in my eyes.
“Hey, August,” the voice I recognise as Cas’s calls out of the speaker on the phone. “Congrats on bringing the dry hump back, man. Honestly, solid job.”
“Oh Jesus,” Bea, hisses, her cheeks taking on a delightful pink glow.
Then, when any normal person would probably have just ended the call, Bea just flings her phone toward the couch in her living room in a panic, like that will stop me from hearing Cas on the other end.
Except, of course, it doesn’t. A point proven when we both stand there staring at each other as Cas’s voice projects.
“I’m flyiiiiing!”
Bea’s eyes close on a slow blink, like she’s just realised throwing her phone wasn’t the best course of action, and I can’t help my smile broadening.
I can’t exactly be mad Bea told her best friend about what happened, I did the same thing.
And after I walked out of here, I’m sure she had some feelings about it all.
But her obvious embarrassment in this moment is kind of adorable.
“I thought we could walk to the pub together,” I say, saving her from whatever is going on in her head.
“Oh,” her brows jump and a pleased smile graces her pink lips. “Sure. Um, I should probably grab my phone.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder.
“Actually, phones are banned, and if you do bring one, Eli will make you put it in a plastic baggie on the bar,” I say, putting my hands in my pocket so I don’t give in to the invasive thought to twine my fingers with hers as we walk up the road.
“Oh, okay,” she says easily. “Bye Cas!” she shouts behind her before stepping outside and closing the door without waiting for a response.
“Don’t you need keys?” I frown down at her.
“Got them, look! My dress has pockets!” She shoves her hands in said pockets and pulls her dress in several different directions to demonstrate, the jingling confirming her keys are safe inside.
She looks up at me with a beaming smile that makes that familiar pull in my chest start tugging like mad.
It’s a feeling I’ve only experienced in this woman’s presence, I’m starting to think of it as the Bea sensation.
We start up toward the pub, it’s only twenty feet away, so I set a slow pace and take a deep breath to try and suck up the courage I need to apologise to Bea. Again. “So,” I start. “About the other day—”
“It’s fine, August,” she says, looking at the road in front of her feet rather at me. “We got caught up in a moment; we don’t need to be awkward about it. Let’s just move on. We’re friends, right?”
She looks up at me again, her smile still fixed in place, but her eyes not quite caught up to it. For some reason, her declaring us as friends makes my stomach twist, a bitter taste in my mouth. I nod in reluctant agreement, and we keep walking.
“I didn’t know if you’d remembered about tonight,” I say, trying to move on from the disappointment weighing down my footsteps.
“Oh, I couldn’t forget. Joanie’s been texting me all day and your mum called about an hour ago to tell me to snack on some nuts because they’re good brain food.”
I laugh and she beams up at me like the sound makes her happy. “I think they’re excited to have a reader on the team. We do okay at these things, but usually end up arguing over answers. Be prepared to be the deciding vote.”
“That sounds so fun for me,” she says brightly, and I laugh a little.
My hand goes to the small of her back as we get to the door of the pub, and I push it open to guide her through.
The place is packed, it always is on quiz nights, the whole village squeezes into the relatively small bar, raucous laughter and chatter happening in every corner.
Eli’s moving with practiced ease behind the bar, serving drinks to those ordering for their tables.
“Yo, don’t forget your cover charge,” Connor shouts at us, weaving through the crowd toward Bea and I, shaking a big red bucket that jingles with change. “It’s a tenner each, cough up,” he says shaking the bucket right under my nose.
I’m too busy batting my nephew away to notice Bea reaching into her pocket to pull out a coin purse.
“Oh Unc,” Connor says disappointedly, shaking his head and tutting. “Don’t let the lady pay. Bad form.”
I catch Bea’s hand before she’s able to drop the notes into the bucket and gently guide it back to her body whilst simultaneously glaring at Connor who gives me a shit-eating grin. I take my wallet from my back pocket and drop a twenty into the bucket.
“Is that it?” Connor frowns.
“You said ten each!”
“Yeah, but it’s for charity,” he argues.
“And I know Mrs Martin just paid you to fix the leaking tap in her utility rom. You like leaky taps, easy money, you call them. Might as well put that dollar to good use.” Connor shrugs, pouting his lips and tilting his head from side to side. The little shit.
Bea’s head is tipped down, and I know she’s hiding her amusement, which only makes Connor act up more, waggling his eyebrows out of pure cheek.
I huff at him and slip another ten into the bucket, guiding Bea away before the kid swindles me of more money. Mum, Dad, and Joanie are sat at a table in a far corner and welcome us with excited smiles.
“Perfect timing,” Mum says with a clap of her hands. “We were just choosing a team name.”
“What’s wrong with our regular team name?” I say, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, my large frame barely fitting in the space available. Bea scoots into the bench seating next to Joanie, the two of them hugging in greeting.
“We can’t be The Zeligs,” Joanie tells me like I’m an idiot. “We have Bea and she’s not a Zelig.”
The word yet fleetingly passes through my head, and I look around accusingly, like someone put it there.
“What about our initials?” Dad suggests.
“What, S.P.J.A.B?” Joanie screws her face up. “Bit of a mouthful.”
“Bea and the Zees,” I say, pulling the answer sheet away from Mum and snatching the pencil from Joanie. “I’ve decided, and I’m the official writer.”
“Says who?” Joanie snaps.
“Me, I’m the biggest.”
Joanie gives me the finger, but no one argues. Dad gets up from his seat and starts shuffling behind me, squeezing my shoulder as he stands behind me. “I’m getting our drinks, what’s everyone’s poison?”
“Gin and tonic, please darling,” Mum says.
“Rum and Coke, please,” Joanie answers.
“Vodka and cranberry, please,” Bea says. “I can give you the money.” She reaches into her pocket again, but Dad is having none of it.
“Your money is no good here. You’re our secret weapon tonight, the least we can do is keep you refreshed.”
Bea laughs a little. “I worry you guys are vastly overestimating my trivia knowledge.”
“I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park, but remember, it’s just a bit of fun, the same donation goes to tonight’s charity no matter how many questions you get right.
” Dad pats my shoulders and I know he’s smiling at Bea like she’s one of the family just by the way she grins back, looking so happy to be a part of it. “Beer, my boy?”
“Please,” I say over my shoulder, and he disappears.
Ninety minutes later, it’s abundantly clear that we had in fact not overestimated Bea’s trivia knowledge.
What I had underestimated, was her competitiveness.
Sweet, bubbly, sunshine Bea is a beast. Her and Joanie arguing back and forth over answers and keeping personal scores of who was right more often.
Spoiler alert, it’s going to be Bea. There was even a Literature round, which we’ve never had before, so I can only assume Eli added it in just for Bea.
I usually tolerate these evenings, showing up for Eli and because I know my family enjoys getting together, but tonight I’ve laughed more than I have in the last five years.
When I throw my head back and let out a belly laugh after Bea loudly cursed Eli when he called out an answer she’d answered incorrectly, I look back to the table to find my family all staring at me with varying levels of bemusement.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Joanie says with a smirk. “First you get my brother on a horse, then you get him to laugh like that.” She shakes her head, disbelieving. “You certainly are shaking things up around here, Bea.” Joanie sips her drink looking across the table at me with mischief in her eyes.
My cheeks heat and Bea, blushes, looking down at the table. But when she peeks up at me through thick lashes, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth, my throat dries.
I can’t stop staring at her the rest of the night, and when I walk her back to her front door, my palms are sweating.
You deserve to be happy, August. You should be with someone who makes you happy.
Maybe it is time to leave the past behind.
I could kiss Bea goodnight, feel her lips on mine, and see if we spark.
I could take a chance that Bea would be different. I could—
“Thank you for walking me home.” She smiles up at me.
“And thanks for being my friend, August, I really like spending time with you.” She rises up to her tiptoes, stretching her neck up but still not able to reach me, so I bend down to her, and she pecks a quick, gentle kiss on my cheek.
She disappears through her door while I’m still reeling from the innocent contact.
My brain is running laps, my heart pumping hard, so I go home and pace.