Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology)

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  “So? It’ll give you time to enjoy the ride.”

  I sighed. “All right.” Tons of people enjoyed riding motorcycles. In theory I could be one of them.

  “Just get on behind me and hold on.”

  I did as he said and tried to remain calm when he turned on the engine. I could handle forty minutes.

  Corolla disappeared behind us as he sped farther down Highway 12. We drove through Duck, and Kitty Hawk, each one a little different but still with a seaside feel.

  There wasn’t much traffic, so Ralph drove us at a fast pace. I’m sure my hands were leaving imprints in Ralph’s stomach because I was holding on so tight. Finally we arrived at the restaurant, and I let him help me off.

  “Wow, you okay?” He must have noticed how tense I was.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought it was your first time on a bike.”

  “It was.”

  “Oh.” A funny expression crossed his face. “I thought you were into bikes.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I would have picked you up in my car, but it’s too late now. Let’s enjoy dinner.” He took my hand and led me inside.

  I resisted the snarky reply that wanted to come out. He hadn’t done it intentionally.

  Seated at a center table, I picked up the menu to peruse.

  “You don’t need that.”

  “I don’t?” I glanced up at his expressionless face. I really hoped he wasn’t going where I knew he was.

  “No. I’ll order.” He went there.

  I held in a groan. I hated when guys did that, especially on the first date. There was no way he knew what I wanted. I didn’t even know what I wanted. “That’s okay.”

  “No, I insist.” He called the waiter over and proceeded to order for me. I had to jump in when he asked for mine to be extra spicy.

  “No, mild is fine,” I quickly assured the waiter.

  “You sure?” Ralph cocked his head to the side as he watched me.

  “Absolutely sure.”

  The rest of dinner didn’t go any better, and a sinking suspicion set in. When Ralph suggested a round of mini golf, I couldn’t let it continue.

  “Listen, Ralph. Macon’s messing with us.” I was already planning revenge in my head.

  “What do you mean?” Ralph held open the door for me, and we started walking back out to the lot.

  I stopped, waiting for him to do the same. “I hate motorcycles, spicy food, and mini golf.”

  A look of understanding hit him. “And I bet you don’t like guys who take control either.”

  “The whole ordering for me thing?”

  “Yeah.” He tucked his thumbs in the corners of his pockets.

  I clasped my hands together. “What an asshole.” I tried to get my anger back in place. I had a short temper and once I lost it, it wasn’t a pretty sight. We’re not talking anger management level, but I’m not someone you want on your bad side.

  “Exactly my thoughts. But you really don’t like mini golf?”

  “No. Especially not here. How many pirate-themed mini golf courses do you need?”

  “We could always go to the dinosaur one.”

  “Not much better. That T-rex looks like he could fall on top of you.”

  “You don’t like dangerous things, do you?”

  “Oh. The motorcycle thing? Yeah, blame my father for it.”

  “Okay. If I ever meet him, I will.” He smiled. “So what do you like? Is there any chance of my salvaging this date?”

  All I wanted to do was get in an actual car and go home, but I wasn’t that mean. His smile was sweet, and he was trying. “Ice cream. I like ice cream.”

  “You mean you’re not lactose intolerant?”

  “Seriously? He said that?”

  Ralph laughed. “No, but I’m surprised he didn’t. Let’s get some ice cream then.”

  The next ride on the bike wasn’t so bad. I relaxed enough, and we stopped for ice cream back in Corolla. I felt tons better knowing I wouldn’t have to get back on the bike, I could easily walk the short distance home.

  I had just settled in to enjoy my cone of vanilla soft serve when I noticed an all-too-familiar face walking toward the register, and he wasn’t alone. So that’s why Colin hadn’t called back. The girl was pretty, with reddish-brown hair. She was of average height and wore ballet flats and a puffy skirt. I at least had to give it to the girl; she had a fun sense of style. I also now had an answer. I hadn’t read him wrong, I just hadn’t read her.

  “Can we finish these outside?” Knowing my track record, I’d get caught staring at the couple if we stayed inside any longer.

  “Sure. It’s a nice night for a walk.” Ralph grabbed a couple of napkins on the way to the door. Points for thinking ahead.

  We walked along the boardwalk, finishing the last of our cones. The surf was rough, splashing up against the wood. “Thanks, this was fun.”

  “Yeah? I’m glad. Hopefully you can forgive me for the first half of our date.”

  “You’re forgiven.” I smiled. There was something fun about hanging out with Ralph. There were definitely no sparks, but he seemed like a sweet guy.

  “You ready to go home?” He tossed out the napkins when we passed a trash bin.

  “Yeah, but I think I’m going to walk.”

  “Really? You hate bikes that much?”

  “It’s a nice night. I’d like the fresh air.”

  “Can I at least walk you home? I feel weird leaving you here.” His expression fell somewhere between “I care” and “you’re annoying.” I’m sure being misled by Macon wasn’t much fun for him either.

  “It’s really not an issue. There are tons of people out.”

  “But it’s dark.”

  “And there are lights.” I gestured to a streetlight. Unfortunately, it was flickering, so it didn’t help my case.

  “Are you always this difficult?”

  “Usually.”

  “Please. Is my company that awful?”

  “No.” I finally realized how bad my insistence could be interpreted. “The company would be nice.”

  “Great. Let’s go.”

  The walk home was pleasant enough, and he kept the goodbye hug short. Macon wasn’t anywhere to be seen when I walked in, but he wasn’t getting away with anything.

  ***

  Pouring a pitcher of water over Macon’s head while he slept was incredibly satisfying. As was watching his reaction when he woke up.

  “What the fuck, Maddy!”

  “What’s the matter? You don’t like water on your face? I must have forgotten. Kind of like how you forget that I hated motorcycles?”

  He sat up, wiping water off his face. “I take it you didn’t enjoy your date last night.”

  “What the hell was that? Am I blanking out on something mean I’ve done to you recently? Because usually friends don’t set each other up on horrible blind dates intentionally.”

  “I was giving you perspective, and getting Ralph back.”

  “Perspective? And what were you getting Ralph back for?”

  “He cockblocked me twice last week.”

  “Do you have to use that language?”

  Macon laughed. “You say every curse word imaginable, yet you can’t handle the word ‘cock.’”

  “I can handle it, I just don’t like it.”

  “You can’t handle it. Your face scrunches up every time I say it.”

  “That’s not true.” Although I wished living with boys didn’t mean listening to crude language.

  “Can you even say it? Are you still such a prude you can’t?”

  “I don’t need to use the term.” I crossed my arms.

  “You don’t like ‘dick’ either.”

  “Are you trying to distract me? I’m not going to forget about what you put me through last night.” I still couldn’t quite believe Macon had done that to me.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry I forgot to tur
n my phone on.”

  “You’re lucky you had it off.”

  “I love your idle threats. It’s one of your best features. It ranks right up there with how much you hate the word ‘cock’—and ‘dick.’”

  “You know what, this isn’t worth my energy.” I stormed out of his room.

  He followed me. “Did it make you realize how great your date with Colin was? Maybe make you think it’s worth calling him?”

  “Wait. You’re going to try to convince me that you put me through all that to try to talk me into calling Colin?” I stopped in my tracks.

  He stood there looking at me.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I don’t get why you haven’t called yet.”

  “If he wanted to see me, he’d have called.” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice. His failure to call shouldn’t have bothered me nearly as much as it did.

  “Or maybe he’s waiting for you to call him.”

  “He’s not. I can promise you that.” I walked into my room and sat down on my twin bed. Luckily, the room came furnished. Otherwise, I’d have been sleeping on the floor.

  “No, you can’t.” He leaned against the doorframe. My room felt small with him standing there, like he was boxing me into a tiny space.

  “I saw him out on a date last night. On top of my disaster date, I saw him with another girl.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “Say to him? Nothing. I left so he didn’t see me.” Wow. I sounded like a coward saying it.

  “Why?”

  I went with the honest answer. “Because I didn’t want to deal with it.”

  Macon stepped into my room. “Because you actually like him.”

  “Why does this matter to you?” I pulled up my legs under me. “Why do you care whether I call Colin?”

  “Because I’d like to see you do something that makes you happy.”

  “I’m always happy.”

  Macon busted out laughing. “Oh yeah. Always.”

  “Cut me a break, Macon. I’ve had an awful year.”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you should continue it. Eventually, you’re going to have to snap out of this ‘woe is me’ crap and move on with life.”

  “Says the guy working at a dive shop.” Sometimes Macon’s hypocrisy made me want to scream.

  He sat down next to me. “It’s only temporary.”

  “So is bartending.”

  He turned so he could look at me. “But what’s it temporary until? You love plans. I don’t believe you don’t have one.”

  “I don’t. Maybe that’s the point. I don’t want to have one.”

  “Because you’re too afraid to find one,” he mumbled. He knew he was treading thin ice.

  “You don’t understand what it’s like.”

  “Sure I do, Maddy. Life didn’t work out exactly as you planned. You’re not going to med school. You’re not marrying some ambitious guy, planning out how many perfect children you want to have. That pisses you off. I get that.”

  “You don’t get it.” I leaned back against my pillows. “I’m tired of sucking.”

  “Oh, stop the pity party.”

  “The pity party?”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t look good on you. If you really wanted to go to med school, you’d be signing up for that master’s program your parents found. But you’re not, because you don’t want to go. You just can’t handle that things aren’t going as planned. It burns you up.”

  “I don’t honestly know what’s bothering me. I just feel lost.”

  “We all feel lost sometimes.”

  A smile broke through despite my mood. “You’re pretty sage for a guy who got a glass of water poured over his head.”

  “I want you to snap out of this. I want Maddy back.”

  “Glad I’ve been missed. I hadn’t even realized I’d gone anywhere.”

  He leaned back next to me. “Oh, you’ve been gone.”

  “And you honestly think calling Colin is going to bring me back?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, so everything you’ve said is pointless?”

  “It’s not going to bring you back, but it’s at least a step. You’re acknowledging that you care about something—or rather someone.”

  “I don’t think I can handle him telling me he met someone. It’s more rejection.”

  “And rejection is worse than never knowing?”

  “Yes. Rejection hurts. You wouldn’t know that.”

  “Oh yeah? Because I’ve never been rejected?”

  “Have you?” I couldn’t imagine Macon ever being rejected. He was the golden boy and eye candy rolled into one.

  He looked away. “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “More times than you want to know, but this isn’t about me.”

  “I’m not calling Colin, but maybe I’ll keep dating.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s just trying something new again. That’s different than putting in the effort toward something.”

  “First dates take effort. I extend more effort picking out clothes and going through possible conversation topics than I spend on the next ten dates combined.”

  “Ever think that’s part of the problem?”

  “What’s part of the problem?”

  “You put so much energy in the beginning and then lay off. Life’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

  I put my arms behind my head to prop myself up more. “No you didn’t.”

  “Didn’t what?”

  “Go there with the ‘life is a marathon’ metaphor.”

  “Oh, I did. I definitely went there. It’s a good metaphor.”

  “Well, then I better get training.” I got up and began shooing Macon toward the door.

  “At least think about what I said.”

  “I will. I’ll even go shopping for new running shoes.”

  “Make sure to get a warranty on them—you never know when you’re going to need it.”

  “I don’t even know how that fits the metaphor, but I’ll pretend I do.”

  “You know what? I’m not leaving.” He flopped down on my bed again. “You woke me up and soaked my bed. I’m going back to sleep while you find your way.”

  “Fine. I’m going for a walk.”

  “Good for you. Take it slow.”

  I hit him with a pillow. “No more marathon metaphors.”

  “Fine. I have plenty of other metaphors to try out next.”

  “You are such a loser sometimes.”

  “Some people would call me a caring friend, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  “Good, because it’s all you’re getting.”

  Chapter Seven

  I went back to the basics the next Thursday night. I made Lyle a highball. Maybe I was making things too complicated. Some people were more basic with their drink selections. They wanted the strong taste without too much interfering. My next attempt would be a whiskey up, but maybe he was a ginger ale guy. I would have pegged Lyle to be into the more complicated mixtures, but he was turning out to be a lot harder to read than I expected.

  Brody and Macon sat in their usual spots as I stared at Lyle from the distance. He was wearing a red t-shirt with a faded emblem I couldn’t make out. If it were someone else I would have assumed he bought it that way, but with Lyle it seemed more likely that he wore it and washed it so much that it wore out.

  “I don’t know why you’re bothering with Lyle. I heard you and Ralph had a good time.” Brody sipped his Coke.

  “Do you want me mad at you?” I’d already let Brody have it for his participation in the event. He didn’t get the ‘water poured over his head’ treatment, but that didn’t mean he was off the hook.

  “You have to admit it was funny.”

  “Funny? You mean absolutely infuriating. Ugh, it makes me mad just to think about it.” I was used to Macon playing games, but having two people do it was wors
e.

  Brody grinned. “Come on, I heard you guys hit it off after the truth came out.”

  “I wouldn’t call it hitting it off. He’s nice, but not for me.”

  “Not like Lyle,” Macon said in a poor imitation of me.

  “Don’t you guys ever get tired of messing with me?” I set down Lyle’s drink on the bar in front of me.

  “Nah, it’s too much fun.” Macon laughed.

  “Glad I can give you guys so much entertainment.”

  ***

  “Hey, here’s your drink.” I handed it to Lyle, letting my hand touch his a moment longer than necessary. His skin felt cooler than I expected.

  He took the drink and set it down immediately. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” I mumbled as I walked back to the bar.

  “Not into the highball, huh?” Brody asked.

  I shrugged. “Who knows? He didn’t even try it.”

  “That would make most people give up.” Macon’s attention was only half on me. He’d noticed a girl across the room.

  “You’re the one who told me to put in more effort.”

  “Not with him.” Without a word, he got up to talk to the girl. I wished I had that kind of confidence.

  Macon returned a few minutes later with a triumphant smile on his face.

  “Just a number tonight?” I asked him.

  “She’s with her brother. A number was all I pushed for.”

  “Do you think you’ll call her?”

  “Maybe. She’s only here a few more days though.”

  “What are you going to do when there are no more tourists?” I pushed down on the cover of the blender so I wouldn’t have the ingredients to a Blue Bayou all over my shirt.

  “What I did last winter,” Macon shouted to be heard over the blender.

  “Which was?” I poured the Bayou, setting it aside with a couple of beers for one of the waitresses.

  “Get really, really bored.”

  I laughed as I opened up a few more beers. I saw a couple of regulars sitting down and knew exactly what they’d want with their burgers.

  “Hey.”

  I glanced up to find Colin with a hand on the bar. He was wearing a t-shirt for a change. I’d never seen him in anything without a collar.