Midnight Lily(48)

I used the bathroom and then headed to the bar, not ready to return upstairs yet to the boisterous laughter of the team, to all the girls milling around the table, some taking pictures, some even filming, looks of desperation on their faces, hoping one of the team members would notice them, even if it was only for a night. When the busy bartender pointed to me, I ordered a water. He scowled and I gave him an apologetic look, sticking a ten in his tip jar even though I should have told him to f*ck off. People get thirsty.

"You get stuck as designated driver, too?"

I looked to my right and there was a pretty girl with dark hair and red lipstick standing next to me, apparently waiting for her drink order. In the dim light of the bar, her hair looked almost black and it made me think of Lily. Enough. Stop chasing ghosts, Ryan. I nodded at the girl and looked back to the bartender who was serving some people at the other end of the bar.

"I'd forgotten how obnoxious drunk people are when you're not drinking," she said, rolling her eyes and giving me a small smile. When I didn't say anything, she looked embarrassed. "And if I have to hear one more bad pirate joke . . ."

I furrowed my brows. "Pirate joke?" I couldn't help asking.

She used her finger to wave it around the room. Ah, the pirate theme. "Fetch me a flagon of ale, wench!" She said this in a deep voice, apparently mimicking the person who had requested she make a bar run. "I mean, seriously, right?" She bit at her lip.

I laughed. She really was pretty.

The bartender set my water in front of me, and before I could even thank him, he was back down the bar, pointing at another customer. I turned toward the girl, raising my water glass. "Good luck." Stupid thing to say.

But she gave me a big smile anyway. "You too."

I walked back toward the stairs, but couldn't bring myself to climb them. Suddenly this was the very last place I wanted to be. But it would be rude to just leave without saying goodbye. I'd take a breather outside for a little bit, and then I'd go back in and say my farewells. Make it look like everything was fine and dandy. Setting my water glass down on a table, I exited the bar and stood to the side of the door in the dim light of the awning, my hands in my pockets, wondering why I hadn't guessed it would be this bad. This had never been my scene. Why would I be good at it now? I watched a group of girls giggling as they pushed an obviously drunk friend wearing a white dress and veil with plastic penises pinned all over it into a limo. The sign stuck on her ass read, "I like being spanked."

The doors to the bar opened and someone exited, coming to stand next to me. We both looked at each other at the same time, her eyes widening, her expression one of growing embarrassment. It was the girl I'd talked to for a minute at the bar. "I did not follow you out here, I swear."

I laughed. "Sure you didn't."

She rolled her eyes. "No, really, I didn't. But since you're here, do you have a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke."

"I don’t usually either, but my ex-boyfriend just showed up with his fiancée and—"

"You're not drunk enough to deal with that kind of thing tonight."

She laughed. "Exactly. Not nearly."

The door opened again and for a second before it closed, raucous laughter flowed out, someone screaming as if in glee.

"Sounds like adult Disneyland in there," she murmured.

"No wonder I'm out here."

Her eyes widened. "You don't like Disneyland?" She looked around, as if making sure no one had heard me, like I'd just told her I was a terrorist.

I laughed and shook my head. "No. But in all fairness, I've never been there. I'm just assuming based on the fact that I don't like roller coasters. Or magic. Or wonder."

She leaned forward and laughed. "Right. Magic. Wonder. So boring. No wonder adult Disneyland isn't really your speed."

I shook my head and pointed across the street to a coffee shop. The sign was making a strange buzzing sound and one of the F’s in coffee was missing. An old man was sitting at a booth at the window, his head down on the table, either sleeping, or possibly dead. "That place over there's more my speed."

She gazed over at it sadly. "Yeah, there's definitely no magic or wonder there. Probably very little hygiene either."

I nodded, looking over at her, and giving her a slow smile. "Ah, but there is one thing. Donuts."

Her eyes widened. "Let's go."

I laughed. "You can't just leave your friends."

"I'll text them to let them know where I am." She nodded to the door. "It's not like I won't see them if they come outside. We'll sit by the window. By the way, my name's Jenna."

"Ryan." I smiled. "Okay, why not? Let's go."

We waited for a few cars to pass and then jogged across the street, pulling the door open to the comforting scents of sugar, grease, and coffee. A waitress at the counter, who was reading a magazine, gestured her hand around the coffee shop, indicating we could choose our seat. I chose a table by the window, a couple down from the (probably) sleeping guy. Jenna slid into the chair across from me. Once the waitress had taken our order, two coffees and two maple-glazed donuts, Jenna asked, "So Ryan, what do you do?"

"I'm an athletic trainer."