by Portia Moore
“How the hell does he get any work done living here?” Blue says with a chuckle, reading my mind.
“This is insane.” I say taking in every thing. We maneuver through a group of what looks like frat guys. Several of them shoot me flirtatious smiles and I can’t help but grin. The way I look and feel now, they must obviously have beer goggles.
“I think we go up this way,” Blue says, pointing to the door near the opposite side of the bar’s opening. I’m surprised going in. I’d think with as much chaos that’s out front of the place it would be locked. I head up the stairs and wait for Blue to make his way behind me. My nose immediately scrunches up as the smell of pot greets it.
“Best perfume in the world.” Blue grins as we round another flight of stairs. I clinch the strap of my bag a little tighter. If Kam found out I was staying in a place like this he’d freak out. Then I remind myself that if nothing comes from this Chicago visit then Kam will have to stop caring about where I am and what I’m doing because technically we’d be broken up.
We finally make it up to a big green door. Blue knocks on it several times and after no answer he pulls out his cell phone.
“Yeah dickhead, where are you?” he asks impatiently.
“Well can you come and let us in?” I hear him continue but can’t hear the guy on the other end of the phone.
“Yeah, a friend and I need to stay a few days,” he says casually. My eyes almost bug out of my head.
“You didn’t tell him we were staying here?” I screech, nudging him in the chest.
“Hey, you owe me for the Indiana thing!” he says tightly.
“Blue are you serious?” I sigh. This was a bad idea, a very bad idea.
“She doesn’t have nuts, she’s a girl,” he says to his cousin, giving me an “everything is fine look,” when I know it’s anything but fine.
“It doesn’t matter if she’s hot!” he says defensively. I roll my eyes and head back down the stairs. Blue grabs my arm and pulls me back.
“It’s gonna be fine. I promise!” he pleads before putting the phone back to his ear. I watch as Blue continues to listen to his cousin yell at him on the phone
“Two days. Tops,” he promises.
“Yeah. Okay, cool. Thanks Ian,” he says before hanging up. I scowl at him.
“I cannot believe we drove hours to stay with some guy who didn’t even know that we were coming!” I yell at him. Blue shrugs me off.
“He’s my cousin. I knew he’d let us stay,” he says simply before sitting next to me. “…If we were already here,” he adds. I let out a disbelieving chuckle. All I can do is laugh at how ridiculous this is.
“It’s going to be cool. He’s just been a raging jerk since his girl left him.”
“This is already starting off bad,” I say, rubbing my temples.
“He owes me—we do this type of thing.” I roll my eyes at him and pull my hood over my head.
“So when is your dear old cousin supposed to be getting here?” I ask in frustration.
“He just said he was on his way,” he admits reluctantly. We both sit in silence listening to the loud music coming from beneath us. After a few minutes I look up and squeeze Blue’s shoulder.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell him and he winks at me.
“We need a drink?” he grumbles.
“Nah,” I tell him. I try not to drink or do any substances when my time lapses start. When you lose consciousness without even doing anything it makes you wary to do anything that alters your mind.
“You can go. I’ll be fine right here.”
“Yeah, I’m going to leave you in a strange hallway by yourself with a bunch of drunk idiots roaming the street outside. You do have a guy here who just got his heart broken in half. Move your ass,” he reminds me.
He’s right, he deserves a drink or two.
“Come on,” I relent. We head down the stairs and into the Green Room. The music is so loud that the floor is vibrating. There are several TVs with videos playing that match the music. We squeeze through the people standing around with drinks in hand and make our way to the bar. There’s two bartenders; one is a girl who looks like she’s in her early twenties wearing a blue halter top with her breasts out and hair in a top knot on her head. She’s cute and has a nose ring. Closer to our side of the bar is a guy with a white t-shirt and jeans on and a White Sox baseball cap on his head.
“Is this a bar or a club?” I ask, confused at the number of people dancing. The place is a lot bigger than it looks outside.
“What can I get you?” the bartender with the White Sox hat asks.
“A shot of Tequila, whatever’s on the house,” Blue says, then turns to me.
“A Sprite please,” I tell him.
“So what’s your cousin like?” I ask after White Sox brings our drinks.
“Uhm, he’s cool most times,” he says before downing his drink. I want to comment on how fast he did it but the guy does have a broken heart so I guess he deserves it.
“Most times?” I ask worriedly.
“He’ll like you,” he says, waving over the bartender again.
“Why do you think that?” I ask. It’s not that I’m unlikeable but it typically takes time for me to warm up to people, and I’ve been told I can come off as cold because of it.
“I like you, so why wouldn’t he?” he says with a brilliant smile.
My cheeks warm.
“Yo, bartender—another drink?” he calls out.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go so fast,” I tell him with a thin smile.
“Remember I just got dumped?” he says defensively.
“Technically I think you dumped her,” I remind him.
“For being a massive slut,” he groans, waving the bartender down again. I sigh a little and take another sip of my soda. I can tell this is going to be a very long night.
Five double shots and three dances later with girls that look eerily similar to Katie, Blue is slumped over on the bar, speaking inaudibly. I should have stopped him at the fourth one but he did just get his heart broken and I didn’t know what his alcohol tolerance was. And now I realize shot number three should have been the limit. He would have been drunk but at least coherent. What was I thinking?
“Blue can you call your cousin and see if he’s nearby?” The music is noticeably lower and most of the people have moved on to other places.
“I loved her so much,” he says, crying. But it’s the angry drunk kind with no tears.
“I know Blue, but this place is going to be closing soon and we have to get out of here,” I tell him.
“I should have kicked that guy’s ass,” he drawls and I realize that talking to him right now is a lost cause.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask.
“My what?” he says before resting his head on his arms.
“Your phone,” I repeat, starting to search his pocket. I finally find it and open his call log.
“I didn’t even lock it. That’s how much I trusted her,” he slurs. I nod my head but pat him on the back. I dial the last number he called which I assume is his cousin and it goes straight to voicemail.
I text him asking him to hurry and that his cousin is wasted.
Blue’s phone rings and I see that it’s Katie. I hit ignore and shove it in my pocket and sling Blue’s arm over my shoulder.
“Okay buddy you’re going to have to help me get you back to your cousin’s apartment,” I tell him as I try to lift him off the bar stool. He stays planted where he is.
“You’re such a good friend,” he says with a drunk goofy smile. I quickly tell him thanks.
“You need any help getting him to your car?” the bartender with the White Sox hat asks.
“No, we’re actually waiting for someone. We’ll hopefully be staying upstairs. I can drag him,” I say with a smile.
“Hey, who are you guys staying with? I pretty much know everyone in the building,” he says and I feel relieved.
“Oh we’re
staying with his cousin, I don’t know his name. He has him saved as asshole number two in his phone.” I tell him disdainfully. The bartender laughs.
“Can you get him some water please?” I ask him and he smiles before returning with a glass.
“Blue, I really need you to drink this so we both don’t kill ourselves falling down the stairs,” I tell him adamantly. He nods and takes a sip.
“I close the place if you want to stay until he gets back.”
“Oh my God that would be so great,” I tell him gratefully. Blue’s phone rings again and unfortunately it’s Katie and not the cousin who is supposed to be letting us stay in his apartment. I pull up his call log and see that she’s called over twenty times. A part of me feels sorry for her. Then I look up and see a slumped over Blue and hit ignore again.
“I think I’m going to puke,” he gags before stumbling off the barstool and running only like a drunk person can to the bathroom. The phone rings yet again and I expect to see Katie’s number but my heart stops when I see that it’s Kam’s. She must have told him I was with him.
For the first time tonight I’m almost tempted to have a drink. My hands are trembling. I put the phone down and watch his name pop up again. I hit ignore on the call and open the text screen. I try to think of what Blue would say, but before I can I see a text come through.
What the hell were you doing with Megan?
Shit.
I didn’t even think that Katie would tell Kam she saw me with him, but she was super pissed when she left. I thought I knew Katie pretty well; her and Kam are so close I can’t believe she’s done something like this. I start to text Kam back but decide to let Blue make up his mind on what to tell him when he gets sober. I walk to the bathroom and stand outside it waiting for Blue to make his exit. I crack it open and hear vomiting. I take a seat on the stool closer to the men’s room. The blonde bartender from earlier stops in front of me, but instead of wearing a friendly smile like she was earlier she looks at me like I have a booger on my face.
“So you’re staying with Cage?” she asks, the irritation apparent in her voice. I glance over at the White Sox bartender from earlier who looks at me guiltily.
“Maybe? He’s my friend’s cousin,” I tell her quickly to let her know I am no rival for her to give the stink eye too. Her eyes glide over me quickly.
“How long are you staying?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest.
“I don’t know. Not long.” I grab my phone and see two new texts, one from Gabriella and the other from Kam.
Why are you and Blue together.
CALL ME!
“We’re dating,” she says coldly.
“That’s nice. But I don’t know him, so…” I explain. I quickly glance up at her and see that she has no intention of moving from in front of me and since the bar is practically empty she has no reason to.
“Well fuck is a better word for it. That’s all he does with girls is fuck them, I mean,” she continues and I look up at her, confused as to why she’s telling me this.
“That’s good to know, but I have never even met the guy and I have no intention of fucking him,” I tell her sarcastically.
“You’d think if you fucked him enough that he’d get it and maybe take you on a date or something but nope, that’s too complicated obviously, right?” She chuckles and I believe this is the most awkward moment I’ve ever had, and I realize the cute bartender, who I thought was just a jealous girl who screwed my friend’s douchebag cousin, may be a little psychotic.
“Hey, some guys are assholes,” I sympathize with her, getting up from the barstool and excusing myself. I walk back to the men’s room and shove open the door.
“Blue get out here now!” I whisper tightly. A few moments later Blue comes out looking like a complete mess.
“I’ve got to sit down. I don’t think I can make it back upstairs,” he says in a single drawn out sentence.
“Oh you better, because the bartender is giving me the evil eye over a guy I’ve never even met!” I tell him. He puts his arm over my shoulder but we don’t make it very far. I never thought someone as tall and lean as Blue could be so heavy. We finally stop and I maneuver him to sit on the sofa far away from the bar as well as the dagger-eyed girl. Blue’s phone rings again and I pull it out of my pocket expecting it to be Katie or Kam, and thank God when I see Asshole Number 2’s name appear on the phone.
“Here Blue, it’s your cousin,” I usher him the phone after picking it up.
“Couuusin. What’s uuuuppp?” he sings into the phone. Oh my God. He laughs again and looks at me confused.
“Where are we?”
“The Green Room,” I tell him impatiently.
“The Greeen Room,” he slurs into the phone.
“There are sooo many stairrrs,” he whines and a few seconds later he hangs up the phone.
“I think he’s coming,” he says before sinking down into the big chair he’s sitting in.
“Hopefully?” I grumble. I let out a sigh before sitting on the arm of the chair next to him.
“I want to call Katie,” he says through a whine.
“I don’t think now is the right time Blue,” I tell him, taking his phone away from him.
“She’s such a fucking whore,” he moans, looking as if he’s going to cry. I pat his shoulder again. “I’m going to get your water, okay?” I say before walking over to the bar. White Sox guy has disappeared leaving the crazy girl from earlier on the far side of the bar. I let out a sigh.
“Hey, can I please get a glass of water for my friend?” I ask as nicely as I can. She frowns at me for a second before turning around and filling up a glass with water.
“Thanks,” I tell her after she slides it over to me.
“No problem,” she mumbles but I notice her attention isn’t on me anymore but towards the door. I watch her hard glaze melt and look behind me. When I do my heart slows down, my fingertips begin to tingle, and my limbs feel stuck in place as my eyes land on him. He’s broad, tall, masculinity seeping through his pores. Thick beautiful dirty-blond hair that’s long enough to touch his shoulders. He’s like a real life Viking, eyes so blue they’re surreal and when they lock on mine I drop the glass out of my hand, trying to shake the distinct feeling that I know him.
Ten
Present day
Ian
It can’t be her. Not fucking possible. Not the woman I’ve looked for a year straight…in different towns and cities, scanning Facebook pages of everyone I could think of who may know her. Not in the bar underneath my new apartment. I tell myself it’s not her but the way she’s looking at me like she’s seen a ghost says otherwise. I try to get it together. I smoked a whole lot of fucking weed tonight and did a laced cookie at Devin’s.
“What the fuck,” says Theresa, the bartender, who I fucked around with until she got all crazy on me. She breaks me out of my trance.
“I-I’m sorry,” Alana says weakly, picking up the shards of glass around her feet. I watch her for what seems like forever, waiting for her to say something but she doesn’t and when I walk towards her and she stands with pieces of glass in her hand, she just looks at me like I’m a stranger—her eyes wide, a little rounder, and they’re sea green, not stormy grey.
“Iaaan,” I look over and see my cousin Blue drunk off his ass and slumped down on a chair. I forgot that he was even here. I turn back to Alana, who is wearing an apologetic weak smile.
“You must be Asshole Number Two?” she says with a weak laugh. I look at her confused.
Is this a fucking joke? The girl who walked out of my life after ripping through it like a storm acts as if she doesn’t know me?
She swallows hard.
“Uhm. He has you saved as that in his phone.” She attempts to explain but I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, and what the fuck is she doing here and why is she acting like she doesn’t know me?
“This is Megan, she’s crashing with us.” Blue attempts to
get up but falls back in his chair.
“Megan?” I say it, as if it disgusts me. She glances at Blue and then back at me nervously.
“I know this is unexpected, I hope it’s okay.” Her voice is small and she tosses the glass shards in the garbage. She walks over to Blue and puts his arm around her neck then looks up at me as if to ask for help. I take in every inch of her, same dark hair, but it’s shorter falling a inch of two below her shoulders instead of down her back how I last saw it and it’s straight instead of wavy, same pink pouty lips. But the satisfied grin that usually rests on them is replaced with a timid half smile. She has on an oversized jacket, a black top, and loose jeans with old tennis shoes that look too big for her feet. My girl wouldn’t be caught dead in this shit.
“That’s all you have to say to me?” I ask, trying to hold on to the last piece of restraint I have.
“Sorry I got so drunk, I had the worst fucking day,” Blue answers and I shake my head. I wasn’t talking to him but they both seem to think so.
Am I crazy?
“Babe, are you okay?” I look back at Theresa, who’s giving me her best come fuck me look. I have no idea in hell why she’s called me babe. We had sex TWO maybe THREE times and then she started showing up at my apartment and I had to shut that shit down fast. There’s only one girl who broke who my heart into a thousand damned pieces that I wanted to wake up to knocking on my door, that I prayed for to show up in the middle of the night. And she’s standing in front of me like she doesn’t have a fucking clue who I am.
“Don’t call me that, Theresa,” I say, sounding colder than I mean too.
“Oh I’m sorry, excuse me I didn’t mean to disrespect your little girlfriend here,” she shouts at me angrily.
“Look, I’m not his girlfriend! I’m just trying to get my friend to bed,” Alana says pleadingly and I feel like someone stabbed me in the chest. No, no this can’t be the girl I knew. This isn’t my girl. My girl is all fire, like a whirlwind. If she saw me now there is no way she would just stand there, she wouldn’t let Theresa refer to her as my little girlfriend. I’ve got to figure it out. My heart is pounding. I take my phone out and while she’s distracted trying to help Blue, I snap a picture.