“How about a burger?” he asks, deciding for me, and come to think of it, that sounds amazing.
I don’t know why I do it, mostly because he looks warm and he’s been sweet, but I reach out and grab his forearm, giving it a little squeeze.
“A burger would be wonderful, thank you.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I jolt, taking it out and squinting at the phone. It’s a text from Birdie wondering where I am. I could tell her to come to Greer’s, but then she’d see what a pathetic mess I am. If I don’t answer, she might think I was murdered, probably by Lain, the super hot tour guide.
I’d be pissed if I didn’t know where she was when it was getting dark out, so I go with a lie.
J us havn a drin. Will b home l8er.
Birdie
Oh, man. I don’t think I’ve gotten a drunk text from you since freshman year of college. Be safe. I’ll check in later, okay?
yes
I put my phone away as a man comes from behind the bar. He isn’t the smiling Greer, no he’s frowning as he heads over in my direction, a tasty burger in hand.
He’s not as tall as Greer, but still towers over me. He’s thicker. I wonder how much space is in between his two shoulders? I’m musing on his size as he approaches me, placing the burger in front of me.
His eyes are dark brown, along with his hair, and neatly trimmed beard.
“Thanks,” I say, and he just blinks at me, looking me over with a scoff before walking away.
I turn over to my right to an old man named Alan, who just shrugs his shoulders, like he has no excuse for the man’s behavior.
Instead of worrying about him, or his dislike of me, I take a huge bite of my burger. Probably too many bites, but it feels good to have something in my stomach.
I eat the whole damn thing and I feel like I’m about to burst; I need to have a nice long sleep.
But I know when I wake up in the morning, I won’t have a job.
“What am I going to do, Alan?” I gripe.
I didn’t tell Greer about my woes; I didn’t want him to know how much of a mess I am. But Alan has a trustworthy face. He has fourteen grandchildren. Fourteen! I know he must have some sage advice.
“You’re in the best years of your life. You’re a bonnie wee thing with a good head on your shoulders. You can do whatever you put your mind to,” he says, and I groan.
What a grandpa response.
I thunk my head against the bar top and Alan pats my back.
“Alright, damsel, it’s time to get you home,” a deep voice says, picking me up off of my stool, holding me bridal style like I weigh nothing.
“Have a goodnight, Maisie!” Alan shouts and I wave at him as I look up to see that Greer is the one that’s carrying me.
I’m not sure why I trust him, but I feel safe in the stranger’s arms.
4
greer
“Just go dropoff the burger and say hi,” I tell Callum and he glares at me, wiping his hands on his apron.
“Why bother? What would be the point of investing any time into some tourist?” he asks.
I take a deep breath, cause he’s not wrong. We’ve been burned before. It’s the reason he refuses to call us a pack, even though that’s how Lain and I refer to ourselves.
