Dave raised his eyebrows as his beady eyes sized me up and down. I wanted to barf.
He went into flirt mode. “Well hey, I’m actually meeting a friend here in a minute or so.” He pulled out his cell phone to glance at the time. “It’s pretty slow right now so I’m punching out in about five minutes. Why don’t you ladies go on inside and when my buddy arrives, we’ll buy you two a drink.”
I grimaced inwardly. Just what I need; a double date with two Hells Angels.
I shot a look at Chrissy, my expression screaming no. She laughed in response, knowing full well what I was thinking. I was really not feeling this place, but one look at Chrissy’s face told me there was no getting out of it. That’s what I got for agreeing to go to this biker bar with her. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other and headed inside the “club.”
“You seriously broke up with Finn to date some tattooed biker?” I whispered, not attempting to hide the disapproval in my tone.
She snarled, “Hey. None of that Debbie Downer crap. I told you we’re going to paint the town red, and painting is what we’re doing. And no way am I dating that penniless bouncer, but how else did you expect to get inside of here with no I.D.?”
I shrugged and left it alone. Chrissy had made her point. As we made our way to the bar, I looked around. The place was pretty small. The walls were painted a puke green color and I couldn’t help but think that if I happened to drink too much and get sick somewhere in the corner, it would nicely blend into the walls.
I snickered to myself at the thought as I took a seat on the black leather stool in front of the bar. At least the place didn’t smell. No one else was inside the lounge besides an old man with gray hair at the opposite end of the bar. I couldn’t believe I had let Chrissy talk me into this. Chrissy must have read my thoughts because she responded on cue.
“This place usually doesn’t start filling up until about ten or ten-thirty. We’re way too early but I figured you needed a drink ASAP.”
“Thanks, Chrissy. You know me well. Tonight, I will drown my sorrows in alcohol.”
“Here, here,” Chrissy exclaimed, toasting her imaginary glasses again. Then in an instant she slammed her hand down on the table. “Jenna. Quit acting like you’re busy. We’re the only people in here and we’re thirsty, I say!” she shouted at the bartender.
Jenna was a pretty girl masked in tattoos and piercings. I vaguely remembered her from high school, although she was a few grades ahead of me. She never spoke much in school and by the looks of it her lack of verbal expression had remained intact.
She glanced in our direction and threw her thick, black messy hair over her shoulder and responded in a monotone voice, “One second, Chrissy.”
She was bent over a portable dishwasher removing the hot glasses and placing them on the shelves. She spun on her heels as her pleated blue and green plaid skirt twirled crazily, which gave off the illusion of a pinwheel. Walking straight over to us she reached her right hand up, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and placed it in front of us. She bent over the heavily lacquered bar and gave her best try at a smile, which still somehow managed to twist grotesquely into a frown.
She looked right at me. “Can I see some I.D.?”
I could feel the color in my face redden as I realized she obviously didn’t remember me from high school. Or maybe she did, which would explain why she was carding me.
Crap, I thought Chrissy said this place was cool.
“I…uh…umm…” I stuttered as I slowly began to take out my wallet and display my driver’s license, silently praying that math was not her strong point.
Suddenly she chortled. “Yo, I’m just messing with you,” She grinned and bent down, grabbing three shot glasses and their matching tumblers. Jenna poured the shots of rich gold liquid and added side glasses of Coke.
She picked up one of the shots and held it in the air, waiting for us. I quickly grabbed my drink, and all at once the three of us were clanking glasses and downing the liquor. The taste burned my throat and reflexively I reached for the soda to chase it down. It quenched the burn in my throat but the flowing alcohol left a warm sensation throughout my entire body. I blinked a couple times to stop the tears in my eyes. In a weird way, it felt really good.
The bartender leaned forward and asked, “So are you still with that one guy from high school? Ray Ryker?”
I could see the stars in her eyes as she mentioned his name. Oh no, not you too? I thought in dismay.
“Yes, we’re still together,” I replied, sounding a bit possessive. It seemed like these days any girl who asked if Ray and I were still together were hoping for a no so they could swoop in and lay claim to his uprising fame and fortune, not to mention his bod.
Chrissy added her personal commentary, “For now,” and then quickly drank her soda, reminding me of those Snickers commercials where the guy stuffs his face trying to avoid an uncomfortable conversation. The bartender and I both ignored her.
Jenna continued, “I hear the band’s new song on the radio all the time. I guess they’ve finally made it. Hey, next time they come to town let me know. I’d be interested to see if they would do a set here at the bar. That drummer of theirs is such a hottie.” She winked and I smiled back, allowing all of the building jealousy to quickly evaporate.
She grabbed the glasses, wiped down the bar with a cloth, and turned around to check on the old man at the other end.
Chrissy quickly interrupted my thoughts.
“Speaking of hotties, has Green Eyes McGee shown up lately?”
I tried to suppress the smile escaping my lips. Chrissy had a nickname for everyone. That just happened to be the nickname for the cute guy that came into Safeway earlier that week.
“No, I haven’t seen him since that day. We pretty much know everyone in this piddling town so I’m guessing he was just passing through. I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
“You shoulda got the digits while you had the chance.” She smirked as she hid her face playfully behind the Coke glass.
“If you think you can continue to hide behind that glass, you’re wrong, Miss Kyle.” I playfully nudged her with my shoulder. Grabbing my purse, I headed over to the jukebox. The place was dead and in desperate need of some music. I searched through the playlist and stopped at ‘Paramour.’ That’s when I felt the presence of someone close behind me. Before I could turn around, a voice said, “Not ‘Paramour.’ We need something more upbeat to liven up this place.”
I’d heard that voice before but I couldn’t place it. I spun around to match the face with the voice and was greeted by those beautiful emerald green eyes.
The pendant eyes.
Breathe, I reminded myself as I stood there dumbfounded for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, my anchor on earth, Chrissy, arrived and broke the trance.
“I thought you were finding us some music, Sidney?” she asked, pushing her way between me and the jukebox, completely ignoring the handsome stranger as she inserted a dollar into the machine. She punched some numbers and all of a sudden an Aaliyah song came on. She started singing along and dancing.
Chirping the lyrics to the outdated song, she handed me another shot.
I laughed as I accepted the drink. Chrissy had an obsession with ‘90s music and she had a way of making the music remain cool and relevant after all those years. If anyone else attempted to play that song, I’m pretty sure it would be a party foul.
I tilted back my head and downed the shot. This one seemed to go down a lot easier than the first. After I brought the empty shot glass from my lips, the green-eyed stranger handed me a glass of soda. I nodded my chin in appreciation and took a sip, never allowing my eyes to leave his gorgeous face.
He looked just as he had that first meeting in the grocery store. His lashes were long and thick. They matched his jet black hair, which was kind of greasy, but in a good way. His pale face clashed with the stark contrast of his dark hair and the black leather jacket he
was wearing.
Suddenly, I stifled my laughter because Chrissy and I had this long running joke that most TV actors I found attractive seemed to possess the look of a heroin addict; with pale faces and dark eyes. The sexy guy in front of me definitely fit the bill.
I scanned the room for Chrissy, desperately wanting to share my epiphany with her. Of course, I couldn’t find her and so my eyes returned to the stranger in front of me, but when I realized he was staring back, I quickly looked away, feeling a little insecure.
At that moment I wished I had decided to put an effort into my hair and wardrobe. Here I was meeting a hot stranger and I was wearing running shoes and sweatpants. Guys usually like girls with long flowing hair and I had mine pulled back into a tight ponytail. It was just my luck to look like a bum the moment he showed up again.
Instead of silently worrying, I made a decision to take a modicum of control. I opened my mouth to start a conversation but immediately realized I didn’t have anything to say. At that moment my brain shut down. I was blank.
I nervously glanced around the bar. The place was actually starting to fill up and now some people were gathering on the dance floor and starting to jive. Naturally, Chrissy was dancing in the middle of all of them. I discreetly tried to get her attention to tell her who was here, but it was to no avail. She was in a zone. The hottie was still standing in front of me and in the absence of words, I began to focus on the glass in my hand, twisting it around, pretending to be interested in the bevels of the glass.
The music was so loud it made it acceptable not to speak or carry on a conversation which worked out in my favor, since I didn’t know what to say. Then, he suddenly leaned in and shouted over the music, “I suppose I should have just let you play ‘Paramour.’”
I smiled and nodded in agreement.
“I can’t believe she wasted fifty cents on this song,” I shouted back.
We both laughed together at Chrissy’s lame choice in music. The song ended and another began. It sounded like Etta James at first, but no, that couldn’t be it. Hottie and I were looking at each other, trying to figure out the song. Then all of a sudden the beat changed.
“Black Eyed Peas,” we both said in unison.
I looked over at Chrissy and she was making her way over to me mouthing the words of the song, singing into the beer bottle she was now holding as if it were a microphone and the dirty black-tiled floor was her stage.
As she approached, she put her arm over my shoulder and shouted. “Hey, Sidney, this is your song. You need to sing this to Ray as you dropkick his ass out the front door.”
The song was about a loved one being lied to. Of course I was mortified.
Her biggest flaw was the inability to keep private matters private. I was praying that cutie didn’t hear her but when I snuck a glance at him, I realized he had. He was standing with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, looking straight at me. Was it a look of pity? I hoped not.
Then, every ounce of hope drained out of me as I watched him grab his glass of soda and head back to the bar, taking a seat on the last stool in the corner. Maybe he was just giving me space, I reasoned. After all, I’m here with my girlfriend having fun, and he’s just a stranger I don’t even know. He just didn’t want to interrupt, that’s all.
Satisfied with my conclusion, I grabbed a section of Chrissy’s big blonde hair and lifted it up so I could whisper in her ear, “Green Eyes, here and now. Same guy I was telling you about!”
She was slick when I needed her to be. She never let the surprise show on her face. She just continued to sing and then slowly lifted her eyes under her thick lashes and snuck a glance around the bar. She casually did a twirl as she continued to dance to the music, discreetly scanning the room.
Then she looked at me and said, “No can see.”
Dammit, there were too many people in the lounge now and it was impossible to see anyone with all of the bodies brushing against each other in feeble attempts to get around. We were all like a can of sardines, packed so tightly in here.
I guess the alcohol was making its way through my system because I started to feel some of its liquid courage. I pushed through the crowded space and squeezed between two guys sitting on the bar stools. I pounded on the wooden bar to get Jenna’s attention. She came over with a slight look of annoyance. It seemed I interrupted her flirting with a couple of businessmen in suits. I’m sure they were planning on leaving a large tip for their overly-friendly bartender. I threw a twenty dollar bill on the bar to get her attention.
“Two shots please, one for me and another for the hottie at the end of the bar.” I nodded toward Green Eyes McGee. Jenna turned around and looked at him and then glanced back at me with a question on her face. I suddenly remembered I had just told her I was happily involved with Ray and now here I was buying some strange guy a drink.
“I’m just trying to be friendly,” I explained, shrugging as innocently as I could.
Jenna poured a shot of whiskey for me and then headed to the opposite side of the bar. She placed the glass in front of Green Eyes and poured the shot, whispering something to him, and then nodding towards me. He looked at me, still wearing that strange expression on his face. I held up my shot towards him and then drank. What I saw next nearly made me spit the whiskey clear across the bar.
A heavy set balding man who was probably in his mid-30’s picked up the shot intended for my hunk and drank it. Then, he had the nerve to smile at me in appreciation. I didn’t know how to react. I just sat there with a total look of disgust on my face. The audacity of these damned drunks down here. An instant later, Dave and Chrissy made their way over to me.
“I see you’ve spotted my compadre,” Dave shouted over the music.
“Well, we haven’t officially met or anything. He just handed me my drink and suggested I don’t play ‘Paramour’ on the jukebox,” I responded, assuming Dave must be talking about Green Eyes. I went to sneak another look at that beautiful face but was disappointed to see the stool was empty.
I frantically looked around the room for that long dark hair but didn’t see him anywhere. The ugly, old fat guy was still sitting there, smiling some perverted smile at me, looking like a hungry dog wanting a bone. My stomach took on a nauseous glow.
Then chubby boy got up and started heading our way. I was getting ready to let him have it, and tell him what a rude cad he was for drinking a drink that was not meant for him when, without warning, Dave spread his wide arms and embraced his pal with a huge hug.
“Jason. It’s been a long time, buddy. I’m glad you could make it tonight. I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Dave shouted.
My jaw must have hit the floor. Picking it up, I rubbed my bruised ego, Jason was Dave’s friend, not the mysterious stranger that I desperately wanted to know.
Chrissy and Dave wanted me to meet this brute? Was Ray really that terrible that some older, unfit drunk would be better suited for me than him? This was really what my best friend thought of me. That I was so pathetic, I would actually agree to date some guy that looked like he could be my dad?
I tried to play it off as I fought to contain the rage filling up inside of me. I began to get really angry. I also began to feel claustrophobic. The bar was so small and all of these bodies pressed against each other reminded me of a Chinese fire drill.
“I need some air,” I said, as I grabbed my purse off the bar. Dave, Chrissy, and Jason all were staring at me as I prepared to bolt. I guess the correct response would have been politeness but I just couldn’t play the part. This was too much.
“You don’t look too well,” Chrissy said with more than a note of concern. “Do you want me to go with you?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. I just need to some fresh air. See you guys soon.” I wrestled out a smile but couldn’t bring my eyes to meet theirs as I pushed through them and practically ran for the exit.
The cold night air felt good on my flushed skin. I closed my eyes and took a deep brea
th. I looked down at the dirty sidewalk littered with cigarette butts and noticed the running shoes on my feet.
Perfect.
I turned to the right and took off running.
There was nothing more in the world that I enjoyed more than a good run. Especially when I had something to flee from, like the awkward meeting with Green Eyes, the even more awkward meeting with Jason, the low expectations that my best friend had for my dating life, and the real issue at hand, the low expectations I had for myself with Ray.
I had to escape all of the above.
I turned left down Main Street and passed the market. There were a few cars filled with the local high school kids, meeting up to decide what party they were going to crash. I continued running, thinking about Ray and all of the times he’d hurt me and put his music before me, before my education, before my dreams.
What was it inside of me that loved an obsessively selfish man? I concluded that enabling others in my life was one of my weaker assets. I enjoyed being used. I was too loyal, too giving, too accepting, and far too vulnerable.
He had broken me. Or maybe I was never whole to begin with. How could I possibly be emotionally healthy with the parents God had given me?
Now the tears were spilling down my cheeks but it didn’t matter. I was alone, and this is what I did when I was alone.
I ran.
I pushed myself as far as I could. My lungs felt like they were going to explode but I refused to stop. I refused to acknowledge that my relationship was an absolute failure. I fought off the truth that I was born unlovable; a fact that was proven when my parents so thoughtlessly gave me up. I’d been so desperate for attention that I allowed my thoughts to be completely consumed by a stranger that I’d talked to for a total of two minutes.
Green Eyes’ reaction to the mention of Ray at the bar continued to replay in my mind over and over again. Everything had been fine until Chrissy mentioned Ray, then it was like I was a diseased rag or a pathetic leper.
Finally I stopped running. My lungs couldn’t take anymore. I bent over, resting my hands on my knees, heaving uncontrollably. It was inevitable what was to come next as my stomach began to tighten, spilling all the alcohol I had consumed earlier in the night. Maybe it wasn’t such a smart idea to drink so much liquor and then attempt to run a few miles.
Between Dreams Page 7