Page 41 of Saints & Sailors

When I stood to my feet, I found gravity challenging.

“Whoa.” Sober I was not.

I meandered my way through the crowded space of bodies and managed to walk to the front counter.

The boy behind it had clearly lost a battle with puberty.

His pale face was red with acne, and his greasy hair did nothing to improve his tragic appearance.

I reached down and removed my shoes. “I’m out.”

His nametag read Bryce. “Do you need one of our designated drivers?”

I wasn’t yet ready to go home, where the only person who ever knew I existed was Scott.

Fuck Scott.

I accepted my shoes as I declined his offer. “No thanks. I’ll walk around and explore.”

Bryce appeared skeptical, but then he just gave up.

Truthfully, I was so used to people giving up on me I wasn’t sure what I’d do when someone tried to stay and fight.

Outside the air was warm and inviting against the bowling alley’s blast of AC.

I wasn’t the most steady on my feet, but I just started walking anyway. My destination was uncertain, but I was ready for the next location.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there.” Bonham’s arms circled my middle as he came up behind me with Bug following in tow. “Where ya going?”

“Somewhere new.” I pushed against him and backed up a little, stumbling along the way.

Bonham eyed me. “Then tell me that. Communication is typically how relationships of any sort work.” He looked around. “Besides, I don’t trust these guys with a pretty girl like you wandering out here all lost and wasted.”

“I’m not wasted,” I insisted. “Just a little light on my feet.”

His response was a smirk. “You ready for a bar or two?”

This got a smile out of me. “Lead the way, captain!”

With his arm around my shoulder and Bug in the back, we walked the sidewalks to the strip of businesses that offered a variety of nightlife options.

The first bar was dead inside, leaving us to abandon it quickly.

The next bar we tried we couldn’t even get past the bouncer. He took one look at us, rolled his eyes, and told us to get lost before he called the cops.

“Not tonight, Bonham, we don’t want no trouble.” The security guard even knew him by name.

Bonham flashed those pearly whites of his. “Come on, Mick. Just let us hang for an hour, and then we’ll go.”

Mick wasn’t having it. “I could lose my job lettin’ in a bunch of kids like you.”

His lips were thinner than my patience.

Bonham went to work trying to convince Mick, and I lost interest as I slipped out from under his arm and surveyed my surroundings.

Across the street was another bar—how many bars did Meadow Grove have?

The sign, a dimly lit rectangle, read Al’s. The building had a very old look about it. Its windows were filled in with colored frosted glass cubes. Al’s was dark and dull, almost as though it wasn’t trying to impress anybody at all. As if daring each patron to come in at their own risk.