Scarlett studies me for a second, then her voice drops even softer. “You know you can talk to me, right? Not as your boss. As your friend. If something’s going on and you need to vent or you need help with anything… I’m here.”
My chest tightens at how sincere she sounds. Before I can answer, she suddenly switches gears, a mischievous little smile tugging at her mouth.
“Or,” she says, “you could stop hiding in your house every weekend and actually come hang out with me one Friday night.”
I blink. “What?” I shake my head immediately, my stomach flipping at the thought. “No… no, I can’t.”
Scarlett frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not old enough,” I say, keeping my voice low. “I’m only nineteen.”
She stares at me for a second… then bursts out laughing.
I feel my face heat up. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” she says, still laughing. “You’re acting like you’re twelve. You’re nineteen, Lucy. That’s old enough to go to a bar.”
“I still can’t drink,” I point out.
Scarlett waves a hand like that’s the least important detail in the world. “You don’t have to drink. You can have a soda. Or water.Or whatever boring thing you want.” She leans in a little, eyes sparkling with trouble. “But if you did want a drink… I could probably slip you one. No one would care.”
My eyes widen. “Scarlett!”
She laughs again, clearly enjoying how scandalized I sound. “What? I’m just saying. One drink isn’t gonna turn you into a criminal.”
“I’m not—” I lower my voice even more, glancing around again. “I’m not like that. I don’t break the rules or anything. You know that.”
“Oh, I know,” she says, grinning. “You’re the most responsible nineteen-year-old I’ve ever met. It’s actually kind of impressive. And a little sad.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “Thanks.”
Scarlett softens a little, but the teasing doesn’t completely leave her voice. “I’m serious though. You should come out one night. Even if you don’t drink. Even if you just sit there and watch everyone else make bad decisions. It might be good for you to get out of that house for a few hours.”
I look down at the forms in front of me, my fingers tightening around the pen. “I don’t know,” I say quietly. “My dad would lose it if he found out I was at a bar.”
Scarlett watches me for a moment, then gently bumps her shoulder against mine. “Well,” she says, “he doesn’t have to know everything. And even if he did… you’re allowed to have a life, Lucy. You’re allowed to do normal nineteen-year-old things every once in a while.”
Before I can answer, the phone rings and a patient walks through the front door. Scarlett straightens up and picks up her clipboard again. “Just think about it,” she says, giving me a small smile. “No pressure. But the offer’s there.”
She starts to walk away, then glances back over her shoulder with that same mischievous look. “And if you ever decide you want that drink,” she adds with a wink, “you know who to ask.”
I watch her disappear down the hallway, my heart beating faster than it should. I know I should say no. I should be the good girl who stays home and studies and follows the rules. But I catch myself wondering what it would feel like to say yes.
The rest of my shift passes in a blur. By the time I clock out, I’ve made up my mind.
When I step into the parking lot, Scarlett is already leaning against her Jeep like she knew I’d say yes. “You coming?” she asks.
I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah. I’m coming.”
Twenty minutes later we’re walking into Perdition. The music is loud, the air smells like beer and leather, and I immediately feel out of place in my scrubs and oversized cardigan. Scarlett doesn’t give me time to overthink it. She grabs my hand and pulls me straight to a corner table where three women are already waiting.
The loudest one spots us first and lets out a dramatic gasp. “Scarlett! You actually brought her!” She jumps up and pulls me into a tight hug before I can react. “I’m Tessa and you are even cuter than Scarlett said. Oh my god, look at this cardigan. It’s giving ‘secretly hot librarian who could ruin my life.’ I’m obsessed.”
“Tessa,” the woman beside her says calmly. “Let her sit down first.” She offers me a small, genuine smile. “I’m Erica. It’s nice to meet you. Scarlett’s been talking about you for weeks.”
The third woman stands with easy confidence. “Hadley,” she says, shaking my hand. “We’re really glad you came out. You want a soda? My treat.”
They scoot over and make room for me between Hadley and Scarlett. Tessa immediately waves down a prospect and orders me a soda “with extra cherries because she’s clearly a good girl who deserves nice things.” Erica slides a bowl of pretzels toward me without saying anything. Hadley turns toward me with a warm, steady smile.
