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Owen and I were seated on stools at the bar while Jake and Xander stood directly behind us, debating whether we should stay here or move onto the next bar. “There aren’t enough women in this place,” Jake said, glancing over his shoulder. During the ride over, he had informed all of us his wife recently filed for divorce. It was so fresh, in fact, Owen hadn’t even known about it yet. “I won’t be getting any phone numbers here. Let’s just go.”
I took a quick survey of the room, noting we were some of the youngest people in this seedy sports bar. Not only that, the ratio of men to women was about 5:1. Jake and Xander’s prospects weren’t very good.
My eyes stopped on Owen, who was absentmindedly gazing at the color-changing rope light outlining the mirror behind the bar. At least he was having fun.
“On a scale of one to ten,” Xander said in a low voice, putting his hand on my shoulder, “how inappropriate would it be for us to ask Mr. Volvo to pay our way into that nightclub with the cover fee?”
“Eleven,” I said, just as Jake blurted, “Let’s do it.”
I shook Xander’s hand off my shoulder. “What do you want to do, Owen?” I asked, since no one else was considerate enough to check with him. This was his night, after all, and though he had enthusiastically gone along with everything these guys suggested so far, maybe he had something else in mind.
Owen tore his eyes from the colored lights to look at my face. “What?”
“Where do you want to go?”
He blinked. “When?”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, bowing my head as I listened to the guy with a master’s degree in science giggle like a schoolgirl at my frustration. “And that’s my boss, ladies and gentlemen.” I picked up my frosty mug and took a drink, staring down at my phone on my lap. After that hastily-typed “Oweb” text, I was grateful Kendall changed the subject, describing the bachelorette party in great detail.
I didn’t mention the incident with Owen finding out about us. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, and besides, I didn’t want to ruin her night, too. It would probably have to come up sooner or later, however, because I wasn’t sure how good my cousin was at keeping secrets.
At the rate these guys were all going, though, I was the only one who’d remember this night.
“Care to chime in, Mason, or are you going to keep staring at your crotch?” I looked up from my phone at Xander, and he continued. “Nightclub. You in?”
“Um.” I glanced at Owen, who was concentrating really hard on the knots on the wooden bar top now. “That might be too stimulating of an environment for some of us.”
“Can we at least get the fuck out of here?” Jake urged.
Ultimately, we all agreed—even Owen—that this bar wasn’t our scene. And after twenty minutes of trying to get drinks in the crowded nightclub, we decided that wasn’t our scene, either. By 10:30, we found ourselves in an alleyway beside the club, arguing about what to do next.
“This is why I should’ve listened to Sarah about the itinerary,” Owen said, squatting against the brick wall. None of us were quite sure what he was doing, but we didn’t ask.
“Bro, what the fuck are you talking about?” Jake paced for a couple of steps with his hands in his jacket pockets before turning back to his brother. “Tell me you did not just say ‘itinerary.’”
“I did. Sarah drew us a map of all the best bars—I bet she can text it to me.”
A map? No wonder she and Kendall got along so well. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea,” I said, placing my hand on the wall. “This stag night isn’t going so well, and sorry, Xander, but you’re zero for two. Text her, Owen.”
Owen, still crouched on the ground like he was taking a dump, looked up at me with fearful eyes, dragging his palms down either side of his face. “I’m afraid if I touch my phone I’m going to accidentally call my mom or the police. Not sure which would be worse.”
“Fuck’s sake, someone take his phone,” Jake muttered, kicking a piece of trash.
“You should just text Kendall,” Owen said. Damn it.
“Who?” Xander turned to me.
“I’ve got—I have Kendall’s number. The teacher. Because of the volunteer thing.” I widened my eyes at Owen, who I could tell was trying desperately not to laugh upon the realization of what he’d almost revealed. I turned back to Xander, who still looked confused. “She’s at Sarah and Owen’s right now.”
“Okay. Well, forward that number to me and let’s have some fun, my guy.”
Owen couldn’t contain the laughter anymore. God, could this night be over already? I shook my head. “I’m about to take an Uber back to the Volvo and leave you all stranded here,” I said.
“What the hell did I do?” Jake demanded to know. I ignored all of them as I texted Kendall to get this mysterious itinerary and map. And sure enough, Sarah still had it. We’d already fucked up the first half of the night she’d strategically planned out for us, but she had done her research—we now knew which bars to avoid and which were worth our time.
Our journey through the Indianapolis bar scene first took us to Swish, a sports bar on the fifth floor of a downtown hotel. Its expansive windows gave us a fantastic view of the city below—a sight I sort of missed. According to Sarah’s notes, we all needed to try their signature cocktail, the Larry Bird. Jake promptly ordered one for Owen, unwilling to grant the guy a moment to sober up. His cheeks puckered after he downed the sour green concoction, but he still had his jokes. “Exactly how I imagined Larry Bird would taste.”
Xander turned to me. “I love this guy.”
