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Instead, he’d broken the asshole’s wrist. Now he had a cool new spring-loaded pocket knife.
Definitely his favorite part of the night.
Unfortunately, Daisy Duke and her friend were not impressed. Apparently, the mostly recreational violence had frightened them both off, because when the scene was over, they were gone.
So here it was, not even midnight, and the party was over.
Duncan must have been thinking similar thoughts because he sighed right then and said, “I guess we should head home.”
“Not yet.” Despite being old and having a weak heart, Jay’s old man didn’t sleep much. He’d be awake in the quiet house, and he’d want to talk about the fucking exams, which Mom had no doubt told him about. Jay didn’t want to deal.
“Where’re we gonna go?” Duncan asked. “We’re both banged up, and it’s too late to pull anyway. I did not drink enough to hit up the kind of girl who’s still looking at midnight. Unless you want to head to the clubhouse?”
Jay hadn’t been into the sweetbutt thing for a while, honestly. They hadn’t had any new girls coming in for nearly a year, and there were only a couple girls he thought were hot. It was like having the same meal for lunch every damn day. Besides, he was starting to feel the fight a little.
“Nah. I don’t need to fuck tonight. What about that place?” He nodded to the building on the opposite corner. He’d never heard of it, but it was obviously a bar. Looked nice but not in a hoity-toity way. And there were a couple pretty nice bikes parked in front already. A shiny-new Harley Softail and a Victory. Compared to the Dawg, it was quiet, but he could hear the soft rumble of music. Country or blues, from what he could pick up.
But Duncan was laughing. “Gertrude’s? Bruh, you don’t want to go there.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a dyke bar. Or, I don’t know. I think a dyke bar is a specific thing, maybe? Anyway, it’s a lesbian bar. Also, it’s a book bar. There’s nothing for you in there. Or me, either.”
“What’s a book bar?”
“I guess ... like a bookstore and a bar both? I don’t know. I just heard my mom talking about it a couple times. It sounds nerdy and boring as fuck. Also, I think you missed the headline, Jay. It’s alesbianbar.”
“So ... full of chicks, then.”
Duncan gave him a look. The kind of look Jay wanted to punch off his face. “Yes. Chicks that don’t like dick. Trust me, that ain’t it.”
“Got it. Nobody to fuck in there.” Looking for a way to turn around Duncan’s attempt to make him feel stupid, Jay grinned. “But aren’t you curious?” He licked the blood from his lip.
Duncan frowned at him, then turned and considered the bar across the way. Jay studied it as well.
It was a typical brick building, the kind of small-time commercial building you found on the corners in old neighborhoods like this one—and like the neighborhood the clubhouse was in as well, though this area was one or two rungs above theirs on the economic ladder. By the glow of the windows, it was clear that Gertrude’s had at least the whole first floor: two storefronts. It was no Dawghouse, but it wasn’t a hole, either.
In pink neon over the main door was the name Gertrude’s. The ‘t’ looked like an Eiffel Tower.
Duncan was right; nothing for them over there. Still, he was curious. What did chicks do when they didn’t care about guys? Would he and Duncan even be allowed in? Did you need a password or a secret handshake? A t-shirt that said BURN DOWN THE PATRIARCHY or something?
“Aren’t you curious?” he asked again.
Duncan sighed. “One drink. If they’ll serve us. Then I’m going home—and we shouldn’t go in there in colors. Could freak ‘em out.”
Victorious, Jay grinned. “That would be half the fun,” he said, but he started shrugging out of his kutte.
