Penn nods. “I heard those servers were all about the heavy pours.”
“The heaviest,” I agree. And then: “It was me. I was the server.”
As Bridget snort-laughs, Penn cracks a smile. “Yeah, Wynne. We know.”
I drop my head onto my fist, and it’s as if that small motion sends all the sugar I’ve been drinking straight to my temples. Theheadache is instant. Queasiness follows suit. “I was trying to have fun,” I mumble. “I was trying tobefun.”
“You are fun,” Bridget assures me.
“No, I’m not,” I whine. “Not really. But that’s who I’m supposed to be here, right?” I sit up and spin sideways, sweeping a hand through the air. “Here, I’m Fun Ruby. Silly Ruby. Bright and Bold and Colorful Ruby.”
“And Rum Ruby?” Penn offers.
“Yes,” I say. “Exactly. But instead, all week, I’ve been Dumb Ruby. Make Baaaad Decisions Ruby.” I point at Penn, my baddest decision of all.
His brow furrows, and Bridget pointedly clears her throat.
“Alright,” she trills, shoving Penn aside. “Yep. Okay, Ruby. Noted.” She refills my water and plants it in front of my face. “H2O is your friend.”
“You’re my friend. In every universe. You’resucha good friend.”
Penn gives me an indecipherable look, but we both startle at the sound of the front door slamming shut. Footsteps rush down the hallway, and we register him at the same time.
“Theo?” Penn says, surprised.
I hurtle myself forward for a hug. “Theoooooo!”
I slam into Theo Ford, pressing my face against his chest. It’s a terrible hug. Quite stiff. I pull back and glance down at his shorts. “Bummer. I hoped to see swim trunks with your face on them.”
I wait for Penn to appreciate my joke, but he isn’t looking at me. He asks Theo, “Is something wrong?”
Theo does look nervous. Or maybe he feels guilty for showing up late after he agreed to play DJ for the day. “Don’t feel bad,” I tell him. “There’s still plenty of party left. And a megaphone!”
He gives me a puzzled look, then turns to Penn. “I stopped by The Double D this morning to grab the protein bars I’d left in the fridge, but it was out.”
“What was out?” Penn asks.
“The electricity.” Theo says. “It was totally dark.”
My face goes numb.
“I tried calling both of you, but you didn’t answer. I checked fuses, called the electric company, and…” He sighs. “We’re the only ones who lost power.”
“No,” I whisper. “Not the rink. No.” My pounding headache returns, worse this time, and despite my tipsy buzz, I’m far too alert. Much too aware of what’s happening.
I drop onto the nearest stool and close my eyes. A hand presses against my back, rubbing it slowly. “It’s okay,” Bridget whispers. “We’ll figure this out.”
No, we won’t.I’m losing power. And control. And hope. And myself.
A little more every day.
Creepy-crawly bugs seem to climb up my throat. It itches. “Our 2000s night,” I choke out, turning to Theo. “That’s in four days.”
“Four days?” Penn huffs. “What? You haven’t even talked to all the vendors yet.”
“I did, actually,” Theo says, and Penn turns, surprised.
Theo and I set everything in motion last night, after the makeshift fish funeral. He isn’t necessarily the brightest, but he is reliable, and he agreed to work late nights all week to help me set everything up.
