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“You didn’t make a fool of yourself, Sylvie. You were mostly an enjoyable drunk.” She squeezed her hand. “That could be because you were also asleep a good chunk of that time.”
“Shut up.” Sylvie chuckled despite the heat flooding her cheeks. “I’m serious. I may never recover from the embarrassment. I wish I hadn’t—”
“Well, I’m glad you got drunk. Do you think we’d be here right now if you hadn’t?”
Sylvie held her breath for an uncomfortable eternity. “How did you get home?”
“I walked. It took me like fifteen minutes. No big deal, okay? Don’t get all weird about it.”
Sylvie focused on the road even as she rolled to a stop at a red light. She was too ashamed. She was too exposed. Too vulnerable.
“I don’t get weird,” Sylvie decided after a beat.
“No, you don’t.” Lauren agreed too seriously. “You stay weird.”
Despite herself, Sylvie chuckled.
A new song emanated from the speakers, prompting Lauren to release Sylvie’s hand and turn the volume up even higher.
“Oh, this was my jam!” Lauren tossed her head back and sang. “Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?”
For the entire forty minute drive south from Miami Lakes to the edge of Coconut Grove, they listened to the playlist. As they drove, Sylvie even managed to relax enough to sing along too.
“Casola’s?” Lauren asked with open delight when they pulled up to the restaurant connected to the back of a strip mall. “I haven’t been here in years. Probably since I stopped going out to Miami bars.”
“I know it’s not exactly high school, but it might’ve been a college date if you’d stayed here.” Sylvie waited for a parking space in the narrow row of spots in front of the restaurant to open up.
Lauren’s eyes gleamed. “You think we would’ve gone out if I hadn’t moved to California?”
Sylvie shrugged, forcing herself to look away from her enthralling face. “I don’t know. I used to drink a lot more often then. Maybe with beer goggles.”
Laughing, Lauren nodded.
Inside the restaurant that had been a late-night staple for many drunk Miami kids for forty years, Sylvie realized she’d worn white to a pizza place. Genius.
After ordering at the counter, they were each served a slice of pepperoni pizza the size of a kite. The slices were so big, they didn’t fit on plates, so they were served on wax paper directly on trays.
Ceiling fans tried and failed to cool the huge, stuffy dining room packed with people. Skipping the occupied picnic tables at the center of the crowded room, Lauren and her two inch height advantage spotted an empty table along the back wall.
Lauren sprinkled parmesan cheese and red pepper on her slice. “So when was the last time you went on a date?”
Sylvie sipped her soda from a straw while she flipped through her memory. “A year ago maybe.”
“Maybe? How unmemorable was this date?” Lauren used both hands to hold her pizza while she took a bite.
Sylvie chewed slowly as if she suddenly concerned with the proper breakdown of food for digestion. When there was nothing left of her pizza, she wiped her mouth and leaned back in her seat.
“It might be closer to two years,” Sylvie admitted after a long sip of her drink.
“How long did you date?” Lauren asked without apparent judgment at how long it had been since she’d gone out with anybody.
“Oh, no. It was just the one date,” she admitted with a wince. “She took me axe throwing and tried to give me a ride on her motorcycle. Too much excitement for me.”
Lauren laughed. “She gave you a weapon? Didn’t she know you at all? What a brave woman.”
“We were set up,” Sylvie admitted. “So have you considered that I’m a rebound?”
Lauren choked. “What?” Her face ignited with color as she drank to clear her throat.
