The Guys Next Door

by Amber Thielman

  The bartender chuckled, which should have been my warning, but then vanished to whip together some concoction behind the counter. I turned around on the stool, leaning back on the bar, my elbows supporting me. For so long I had been the uptight, do-good girl, always looking out for someone else. I remembered being with my friends back in Michigan. On the days we did go out, I had always been the designated driver, the friend to take care of everyone else. Well, not tonight.

  I smiled and crossed my legs, admiring how Levi’s clung seductively to my skin. I wondered if anyone would ask me to dance or if I should go out there and show them what I had. Which, granted, wasn’t much. Even drunk.

  Turning back around in my seat, I sipped at my new drink. The alcohol was strong, but the flavor was sweet. I swallowed it down in a hurry and signaled for another. As I relaxed at the bar, keeping my eye on Emma, a familiar face approached me.

  “Olivia!” said the guy, astonished. My entire face flushed hot, and my heart rate sped up. It was too late to bolt.

  “Hi, Ed,” I said, shameful. The booze was hitting me hard. I was feeling much more social than usual, and it didn’t seem to be a bad thing.

  “Is this seat taken?” Ed asked. I felt relieved that he was sitting down and not dialing my aunt’s phone number where he stood.

  “All yours.”

  Ed sat down on the bar stool next to me. He had a beer in his hand and sported jeans and a T-shirt, much more casual than a speedo and a cowboy hat. I was surprised there wasn’t a girl on his arm. He seemed alone. Briefly, I thought of Marisol.

  “Do I want to know what my boss’s underage niece is doing at a club?” Ed called over the beat of the music. “Besides taking tequila shots, that is.” For a moment, I was sure he’d bust me, but then Ed smiled. “Fake IDs, yeah?”

  “Something like that,” I called. “Audrey doesn’t know.”

  “I can imagine not.” He sipped his beer and then turned around on his stool to scope the dance floor. “Is that your friend?” he asked. He nodded toward Emma sandwiched between two men on the dance floor. I didn’t answer him. It was almost too embarrassing. Then again, I was becoming friends with a male stripper—ahem, dancer.

  “Do you guys not have a show tonight?” I asked. Ed shook his head.

  “Stage renovations. Closed for the night.” I turned in my seat to look at the bartender.

  “Can I get another one of these?” I asked him. When he nodded, Ed spoke up.

  “It’s on me,” he said. His gaze met mine. “I was a teenager once. Be safe, Liv.”

  I watched as he stood up, dropped money on the counter, and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of people. I turned back around in my seat to enjoy another tasty concoction laid out in front of me, wondering where the night would take us. At that moment, the possibilities felt endless.

  It was almost three in the morning when Emma announced it was time to go home. I felt both relieved and bummed when she linked her arm in mine and pulled me out onto the street. Though exhausted, I hadn’t wanted the night to end. As we walked, I did my best to ignore the petty wolf calls from drunk people down the street. I was too drunk to feel uncomfortable, but in the pit of my stomach, I knew how wrong it was that we had just left a bar and were walking home alone. Had I been caught doing this back in Michigan, Mom would have grounded me for a month.

  “I had such a good time tonight,” Emma sang. It was cold outside, and her breath reacted to the chill in the air, turning each word into a white puff.

  The hoots and hollers from the men faded into the distance, and I was so glad to get away.

  “Me, too,” I admitted, and stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. “My head kind of hurts, though. And my stomach, too. Yeah, I feel nauseous.” I stopped on the sidewalk, bringing Emma to a halt next to me. “Emma,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I need a bathroom.” There wasn’t even time for her to respond as I leaned over and hurled, falling to my knees in the damp grass next to the walkway. The bile stung my throat, making my eyes water. My head was spinning, and for a second, I was confident I would pass out.

  “Damn, girl,” Emma said, but she was laughing.

  If I’d had the energy to get to my feet and sock her, I totally would have. But the spinning ground was keeping me down.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I mumbled. “Make it stop. The whole world is—moving.”

  “Olivia, you’re drunk. It will stop moving as soon as we sob—”

  “Liv?” Even drunk, I recognized the voice within seconds. I tried to scramble to my feet but tripped over the lawn and fell back down. As my knees hit the grass, my head came within inches of the sharp edge of the park bench. “Olivia?” Ty said again, sounding shocked. Tonight was just not my night.

  “We’re trying to get home,” said Emma. “Too much to drink. Do you guys know each other?”

  “I can see that,” said Ty. “And yeah. I’m a friend of her aunt.” Ty knelt on the grass next to me. His expression was one of somber disappointment, like a father after walking in on his drunk teenager. I wanted to look away, but I knew that if I turned my head too quickly, I’d hurl again—most likely all over Ty’s expensive-looking sneakers.

  “What’s your plan, um…?”

  “Emma,” she said. “My name is Emma. And I don’t know. My parents might be home by now, and they’ll freak if they see her.”

  “You didn’t think about that before you both got wasted?” asked Ty. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say that Audrey has no idea what’s going on right now, either.”

  “No,” Emma admitted. Finally, she sounded ashamed.

  “Okay,” Ty said. “Signal me a cab, will you?” Since I couldn’t open my mouth without wanting to puke, I shook my head. I must have looked ridiculous because Ty’s eyebrows shot up. Another wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over, making a not-so-attractive gagging sound as I hurled up the tequila shots all over the park bench.

  “Do you live around here?” Ty asked Emma. “I’ll drop you off and then take Olivia with me.”

  “With you where?” Emma asked, alarmed. “You seem like a nice guy and all, but you’re a stranger, and she’s a vulnerable, drunk chick—”

  “Look at the sky,” I murmured. I wished the spinning in front of my eyes would tone down before I barfed again. “The stars are waving at me.”

  Before I knew what was happening, I was airborne, swooped up in Ty’s arms as he carried me down the sidewalk and toward a cab.

  “He’s kidnapping me!” I yelled to Emma. “Put me down, you mother f—”

  “Be polite, Olivia!”

  Emma’s high heel shoes clicked on the pavement right behind Ty. I kept waiting to hear her fall and fracture an ankle, but impressively she didn’t even break stride. She was muttering to herself, something about being woman enough to take care of herself. She had other things going for her. We both did.

  “I was going to take her back to Audrey’s place, but I’ll spare them both the fight,” Ty told Emma. “You should go home and sleep it off.” In the sky, rain fell. It was light at first, and then heavy, splattering little drops all over my face. While he walked, Ty shrugged off his jacket and put it on top of me. I felt my head loll back, but I didn’t have the energy to keep my eyes open any longer. I was unconscious before we reached the cab, relieved as darkness and sleep welcomed me.

  The slamming of a car door awakened me. Ty leaned in from outside and pulled me out, steadying me on my feet on the pavement. I tried to look around, but my gaze was bleary. Ty supported me as he paid the cab driver and then helped me down the walkway toward a big red door. He opened it up, and I stepped forward, promptly falling face first onto a carpeted floor. Thankfully, the liquor numbed any pain I would have felt, but in the back of my mind, I knew I would feel that in the morning.

  “Oh my God, Ty, what’s going on?”

  I could lift my head up just enough to see a young woman in sweats and a T-sh
irt come out of the bedroom, looking alarmed. Her bleach-blond hair was up in a messy ponytail, and her face was void of makeup, which made me think that she had been sleeping before we had intruded. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but I figured it was late. Or early. I didn’t know which one.

  “Help me out here, will you, Kristen?” Ty snapped.

  The woman ran to my free side and helped Ty half drag and half carry me to the bathroom.

  As soon as they released me, I felt sick all over again. I leaned over the toilet, hyperventilating and dizzy, before vomiting up tequila and chili fries all over the toilet bowl.

  “What in the hell is wrong with her?” Kristen asked. “Where did you find her?” She was eying me from the doorframe, her expression pinched as if she smelled something funny. Not that I could blame her. I’m sure I smelled glorious, like a mixture of vomit and cheap hooker.

  “A little bit too much to drink,” Ty said. He lowered himself onto the cold bathroom tile next to me, and I felt his hand on my back as I dry heaved again.

  “A little bit?” Kristen’s voice carried a hint of annoyance at the stranger hovering over their clean toilet bowl.

  I didn’t want to throw up again, but my stomach wasn’t agreeing with my silent prayer. I didn’t have the sense to feel embarrassed—I just wished the sensation of daggers in my throat and stomach would let up.

  “Who is she?”

  “She’s Audrey’s niece,” Ty said. “I couldn’t just leave her.”

  Kristen scoffed. “You brought your boss’s drunk niece to our house?”

  As the words came out of her mouth, I leaned over and vomited again heaving and gagging in a not-so-attractive manner.

  Ty gathered up my loose hair and held it up out of the way. “Do you want some water?” he asked.

  I sat up and wiped my mouth on the wad of toilet paper Kristen handed me. She looked disgusted. I was shaking and sweating now, feeling hot under the collar. My heart pounded against my ribs, and my face was burning red-hot.

  “Maybe you should have her see a doctor,” Kristen said as she watched me. “She doesn’t look too spectacular.”

  “No hospitals,” I mumbled, rubbing my face with my hands. “Please no doctors, Ty.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Ty said. “I’ve been there before.”

  “Sleep,” I said, and pushed myself to my feet. My legs and hands were trembling as I stepped away from Ty and toward the door. I swayed once and then stumbled, unable to catch myself before I hit the floor again.

  Then there was dark.

  When I opened my eyes again, I wondered if this was hell, and how I had died. My head was pounding with a pain so intense I tried to recall if someone had hit me over the head with a rock. My mouth tasted like a mixture of vomit and old booze, and my stomach was swimming with what could only be a pool of more vomit.

  “Close the curtains,” I mumbled into a pillow. “Please, dear God, close the curtains.” I raised my head as far as I could and looked around the strange house. I was lying on the floor on a pillow, but the blankets were still on top of the couch. I must have slipped off the sofa during the night. I was still dressed in the jeans and tank top I’d had on last night. The rich smell of coffee brewing and bacon sizzling in a pan violated my nostrils. I felt nauseated. Covering my mouth, I willed myself not to hurl again as I lay there, trying to breathe through my mouth.

  “Nice to see you’re conscious.”

  I sat up, and my gaze met Ty’s. He was walking toward me with a coffee mug in each hand. He was smiling, his expression gentle and sympathetic. All at once, bits and pieces of the night before came together in my head.

  “What happened last night?” I asked, sitting up as Ty took a seat next to me on the couch. He handed me one mug, and I sipped at it. Herbal Tea. Good, I had been expecting Alka-Seltzer or Pepto-Bismol, two things I could never choke down. Ty glanced at his watch as I sipped the tea.

  “Long story short: you had six shots too many and ended up barfing all over a park lawn.”

  “And Emma?”

  “Home, I assume. But it’s almost noon. Audrey will be worried. We should get you home.”

  “Shit.” I smacked my forehead with my palm and then winced. “I was supposed to check in this morning. She’s probably freaking the hell out.” I flung off the blankets, stood up, and folded them, feeling flustered and just a little bit embarrassed. Kristen came out of the kitchen a moment later, holding the phone.

  “I called you a cab,” she said. She didn’t sound happy, and I couldn’t blame her. Had someone come to my home at three a.m., drunk off her ass and vomiting all over the toilet, I would have been pissed, too. “It should be here anytime.”

  “Olivia, this is my girlfriend, Kristen,” Ty said. I was surprised to hear that, but only because it had seemed like Ty was notorious for sleeping around with girls at the club.

  “Thank you for—this,” I told her awkwardly. “I usually don’t drink. At all.” She smiled then, seeming to lighten up, just a little bit. She tossed the phone onto the couch and shrugged.

  “Just don’t let it happen again.”

  Ty walked me out, and sure enough, there was a cab waiting for me. I still hadn’t looked in a mirror, and I was afraid to. I was sure I looked like a cheap hooker after a lousy night.

  “Thanks for not calling Audrey,” I said. I climbed into the back seat of the cab, catching a whiff of my own, vulgar breath. “She would have had a heart attack.”

  “I know,” said Ty. He leaned into the door and looked at me sternly. “I don’t want to have to do this again—at least not until you’re twenty-one.” He winked. “This is a big city, Liv, so just be careful when you make those kinds of decisions. Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. He smiled.

  “You can always call me when you need to, though. Or Avery or Ed or even Mari. We’d rather see you safe.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Good luck with Audrey. I’ll see you later.”

  My head pounded, and my stomach churned all the way back to Audrey’s apartment. I had been expecting the fiery wrath even before I walked through the front door, but it was much worse in real life. She froze as she watched me come through the door, and then hung up the receiver. I opened my mouth to begin my best groveling, but she pursed her lips and held up a finger. I didn’t dare say anything then.

  “Where in the hell have you been?” she demanded.

  I almost felt the urge to turn and run, but I didn’t. I cowered near the door instead. Upstairs, I could hear Noah’s music blasting behind a closed door. He probably hadn’t realized I’d been gone.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I got sidetracked and didn’t even think to ca—”

  “You’re exactly right, Olivia, you didn’t think. I was worried sick about you. You don’t have a cell phone. When I knocked on Emma’s door this morning, no one answered. How could you not even call me? Doesn’t Emma have a phone?” Audrey put her face in her hands and took a deep, steadying breath. She dropped her arms to her side and looked at me. Her face was sad, and all the fight was gone. “I’m trying to do right by you and Noah,” she said. “I’m trying so hard, Liv, and I still have no idea what I’m doing.” She paused for a moment and sat on the couch. She looked exhausted. “I never know what’s okay and what’s not,” she admitted. “I never raised a kid. I want you guys to like me, but I don’t want to be walked over, either.” She wiped at her face. Her cheeks were now wet with tears.

  I shrugged off my jacket and hung it up before joining her on the couch. The guilt was eating away at me. Had it been Mom chewing me out instead of Audrey, I’d have been grounded for a month and forced to do double chores. The least I could do was be sympathetic. The whole thing was my fault.

  “You’re doing a great job,” I said. “You are. We’ll all adjust. It just takes time. And I’m sorry. I really am.” I stood up, yearning to brush the disgusting taste of stale vomit and liquor from my mouth. During the night, I must have bummed somebody’s cigarette, b
ecause I tasted that, too. God, I needed a shower.

  “Did you have plans again tonight?” Audrey asked.

  I almost said no so I wouldn’t have to hear her get upset again, but I thought of Elijah and nodded. I had nearly forgotten about it. “I was supposed to go on a date,” I admitted. “But I can cancel.”

  “I don’t think a date is a good idea tonight, Liv.” Audrey sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue.

  “I know. I’ll just tell Elijah something came up.”

  There was a pause, and then, “Elijah Durham?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re going on a date with Elijah Durham?” She stood up and tossed the used tissue back down onto the coffee table.

  “Um, yes,” I said warily. “Is that… is that okay?”

  “Hmmm.” Aubrey folded her arms and pursed her mouth, tapping one finger gently against her lips. Then, she grinned. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

  Audrey helped me get ready for my date with Elijah that night. She acted thrilled to have something to do besides be Betty Homemaker. As she dressed me, her mouth ran a hundred miles an hour. She gushed about Elijah, his family, his life—I hadn’t known not only was he a star soccer player, he was also a straight-A student on the fast track to Harvard. In Audrey’s eyes, he was the perfect pick for her lost and somewhat impossible niece.

  “What’s wrong with jeans and a cute top?” I asked, longingly stroking the fabric on my favorite blouse.

  “It’s a date, Olivia, not a rave,” Audrey said. She leaned into her closet and pulled something out. “This was your mother’s,” she said, handing me a silky black dress. “When I lived in Michigan, we went out one night, and she left it at my house.”

  I held it out in front of me, whistling.

  “Audrey, this is like a cocktail dress,” I said. I didn’t mean to sound doubtful, but I knew I did. “I mean, it’s beautiful, but—isn’t it a little much?”