Eleanor straightens and her eyes go back to normal, if not a bit more narrowed than usual.
“You’re not getting your ID until you shore up. If you need cash, there’s a pawnshop down the block.” Mark gestures to where my wrist rests on the bar top. I cover my watch protectively with my opposite hand.
Over my dead body am I pawning this watch. It belonged to my dad. It’s pretty much the only thing I have of his. Mom got rid of most of his stuff after he split, and all of his guitars and other memorabilia got sold at auction after he died.
I drag a hand over my mouth. “Excuse us for a minute.”
Mark rolls his eyes and goes back to stacking glasses while I drag Eleanor across the bar.
“Is there someone you could ask to loan you the money? What about your sister?”
Eleanor crosses her arms. “Iris is getting married in a week. She will lose her mind if she finds out about this.”
“Okay… but couldn’t you just not tell her the reason?”
“Look. You don’t have any siblings, right?”
That I know of. And probably if there were any half-siblings out there to know about, they would’ve come out of the woodwork by now. I shake my head.
“Well, I don’t know if it’s a sister thing, or an Iris thing. Maybe it’s because we shared a room for sixteen years. Whatever the reason, I cannot keep a secret from her. Like, I physically cannot. The only way to keep a secret from Iris is to avoid her altogether, but if I reach out to ask for a loan, she will ask questions, and she will keep asking until I crack.”
I’m not sure if she intended to make her sister sound terrifying, but she has.
“Besides,” Eleanor goes on, “she doesn’t have this kind of money either. Things are tight with the wedding. How aboutyouask someone?”
The only people I can think of are Billy and my mom. Billy is no stranger to a bender, so it’s not like he’d necessarily judge me for letting things get out of hand last night. But this nonsense has nothing to do with the band, and therefore has nothing to do with Billy. I’d like to keep it that way. As for my mother? I’m twenty-eight; I’m supposed to be making her life easier at this point, not running to her with my problems like I did when I was a kid. Aside from that, she’s nosy as fuck. If Eleanor thinks Iris would wheedle the story out of her, mymother would do it faster. And then she’d either have a heart attack or insist I bring Eleanor with me when I go over to her house for dinner Sunday night.
“Unless you want to get roped into meeting your mother-in-law, I think it’s best not to involve my family.”
I glance down at my watch again, and then cut my gaze over to Eleanor’s hand.
“We need to get that fucking ring off.”
We wind up in one of the gender-neutral bathrooms together, in an attempt to have some semblance of privacy. When the door snicks shut behind us, Eleanor steps up to the mirror. I watch as she runs a finger under her lashes to wipe away smudged mascara.
I have the urge to tell her she looks good—that she always looks good—but Eleanor likely doesn’t need or want my approval, so I bite it back and wait for her to turn around again.
She runs her hand under the sink and tries to twist her ring off under the tap, her sharp elbow aimed at me as she lets out a frustrated huff.
“Let me try.” I step closer, and Eleanor turns and leans back against the porcelain edge of the sink. She holds her hand out between our bodies, slides it into my waiting palm.
A charge zings up my arm, and I realize this is the first time we’ve actually touched since this morning, when Eleanor kicked me out of bed. Which brings to mind a fact that I’ve been steadfastly ignoring ever since: that we slept in the same bed. Which means Eleanorinvited meto sleep in her bed. Sure, nothing more happened, but it makes me wonder,if we’d been more sober, whether something could have. Whether that was or ever would be on the table.
I blink hard and adjust my glasses before touching the ring. I give it an experimental tug.
“Ow. Fuckingow.”
“Sorry!” I let go immediately, but apparently it still wasn’t fast enough, because Eleanor swats my arm with her opposite hand.
“That hurt.”
“Sorry,” I repeat again, a bit softer.
Eleanor deflates a bit, shoulders rounding in defeat. “Can’t we go to a fire station or something and have them cut it off?”
“We’re not going to cut a platinum band. We’ll get nothing for it if we do.”
She holds her hand up to inspect the ring. “How do you know what kind of metal it is?”
