On the Rocks(56)

“Sure, why not?” I said, realizing that the beer Bobby had given me was gone. I smiled nervously at Pete, turned, and walked with him toward the keg. There was no reason not to. This is what dating was, right? Having beers with a strange guy who levels you on the beach. It’s almost poetic. A weird, tragic, bizarre poem, but poetic nonetheless. He was cute, not traditionally good-looking, but definitely not bad. His shirt was open, revealing a chest that was so hairy it looked like he was wearing a fur vest in summer, but then again, I was trying not to be too judgmental of people these days, so I decided to let it go. If this ever went anywhere, I figured I could just get him really drunk and wax it in his sleep.

I fancy myself quite the problem-solver.

We started chatting as the sun began to set over the water, a sight that despite living on the Eastern Seaboard my entire life has never ceased to impress me. So far, Pete seemed like a guy with real potential, if for no other reason than he made me laugh. I realized that while throwing myself into the ocean might have been a bit extreme, allowing someone to physically knock me over on the beach wasn’t the worst way to meet a guy.

“So, do you have any interest in grabbing dinner next weekend? It’s the least I can do to apologize.”

“I thought this beer was your way of apologizing?” He was asking me out, I realized. And this time Bobby couldn’t claim that he was drunk and didn’t remember what I looked like.

“That was before I knew you. Now that I do, I think dinner is in order. How about we go to the Black Pearl next week? I’ll make a reservation and prove to you that I’m actually much more polite than our initial meeting would have you believe.”

“Okay. I’d like that,” I said with a stupid smile more appropriately found on fourteen-year-old girls.

“Great. Want to say eight o’clock?”

“Eight o’clock it is.” And just like that, I was booked.

We continued to make small talk until I felt a light tap at the back of my head and turned to find Bobby, grinning widely.

“Hey, I’m Bobby,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around this summer. Do you guys know each other?” he asked Pete, knowing full well that we didn’t know each other at all.

“Not exactly. I accidentally knocked her over. I figured the best way to make it up to her was to get her a drink,” Pete said, smiling politely at Bobby.

“Get out, you actually knocked her down?” he asked. “That’s great. I mean, I don’t know how many love stories begin with physical violence, but you never know.”

“It was an accident,” I said in Pete’s defense. I didn’t want this potentially good guy to be known as a violent offender before we even had dinner.

“Okay,” Pete said cheerfully. “I’m going to go find my friends. Abby, it was really great to meet you. I’ll see you next Saturday at eight, okay?”

“Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said to Bobby as he shook his hand before leaving.

“Hey, it was great to meet you, man. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Pete waved as he walked away, and Bobby huddled next to me, like we were going to gossip like girlfriends.

“Guess who has a date?” I sang as I watched Pete disappear into the crowd. “One that I got all by myself.”

“I picked up on that! That’s great! Aww, see! I told you things would turn around. Our little girl is all grown up.”

“Thank you,” I said as I clinked my cup against his.

“One word of caution, though. He was a little furry. If that’s what his chest looks like, I don’t even want to know what is going on with the rest of him.”

“Oh, would you stop! He seems very nice!”

“Good, I hope he is. Come on, Wolf’s wondering where you’ve been. Let’s go find the crew.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said as Bobby wrapped his arm around my neck and escorted me back to the party.

A few hours and more than a few drinks later, we walked home singing Bob Marley songs in the kind of cheap-beer drunken haze I hadn’t felt in ages. It was the first time in a long time that Grace and I had both been genuinely happy. Neither one of us was being weighed down by relationship baggage. We were the girls we used to be: carefree and optimistic about the future. Bobby fell into step with me as Grace gushed to Wolf about Johnny finally being hers.

“I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you that this one has real potential. I want you to know that,” Bobby said. “His chest hair can keep you warm during our long Bostonian winters.”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so. Can I come to dinner with you? Where are you guys going? I’ll just sit at the bar, I won’t say a word, I promise.”

“Sorry, I don’t think I want a chaperone. Thanks for offering, though,” I said as I poked him in the ribs.

“Things are looking up for us, Abs,” Grace mused as she winked at me.

“It’s about time!” I answered. And that was the truth.

I spent the next hour before bed laughing with my friends on the deck, looking forward to a legitimate date with a nice, albeit hairy, guy and thoroughly enjoying the company I was keeping.





Chapter 14