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“Here you go,” Maisie said. “Let me know when he’s had it. Chuckie will have my ass if he doesn’t have his first celebratory drink.”
“Oh, okay.” Birdie said, taking the cup.
“Here’s one for you as well.” Maisie said, handing her another one.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” She smiled widely. “Be sure and let me know.”
“Okay,” Birdie said, making her way toward Lucas and pouting because before she could get to him, he slipped upstairs upon discovering the half bath, off the kitchen, was in use.
She waited outside the second level bathroom, holding both beers in hand, remembering which was his and which one was hers and then thinking it didn’t really matter.
After hearing the toilet flush, and the water running, she rolled her eyes. Who washed their hands after peeing at a party, where most people would end up sharing bodily fluids by the end of the night?
Lucas Santos, that’s who.
The door opened and he stepped out, flipping the light off before exiting the bathroom and noticing her waiting for him.
He looked edible. Literally. Like she could have licked his skin, like one of those hallucinogenic toads, becoming instantly, chemically altered.
“Oh, hey, Birdie,” he said, appearing as if suddenly self-conscious.
“Hey, Lucas. I’m tasked with handing you your first celebratory beer.
“Oh,” he said, taking the red Solo cup. “I’m not sure I really want this.”
“Yes, you do,” she encouraged. “This is your big night. One beer won’t hurt.”
He shrugged his shoulders and sipped at his cup.
“Don’t be a pussy, Santos,” Birdie admonished saucily. “Drink it like a Wayward sailor from days of yore.”
He stared at her for a moment. Until she demonstrated how a beer was properly chugged and to her delight, he reciprocated.
“There you go. One beer won’t hurt you,” she said, taking his cup back.
“Who are you with?” he asked.
“Pete,” she said, “I mean, I’m not with him, with him. He’s my ride.”
He nodded, staring down at his cup. “Got it.”
“Are you pumped for tomorrow?”
He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the wall next to an indent in the Sheetrock with a cheap replica of a naked goddess statue inside. He noticed it and his face turned red.
“I am excited. Chief Walker got me the invite for a walk-on tryout. It’s pretty rare to get. Maybe a scholarship will come out of it.”
She took another sip of her beer.
“What about you?” He asked. “What are your plans after graduation?”
“Oh, I don’t know? Freedom from Shelby Wellborn would be enough.” She leaned toward him. “I might have a stash of cash hidden somewhere to facilitate my grand escape.”
His eyes grew worried and she regretted the comment on a day that he should be celebrating.
“But I’m more interested in hearing your plans.”
