AllFreeNovel
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We're at the college bar. It's still early, but it's full of people. It's not at capacity but ladies are free before 10pm so there's a generous amount of people already here.
Phoebe takes a sip from her strawberry daiquiri, her hand perched closely to her mouth as she tries to swallow before spraying us with the contents from laughter.
Connor and Phoebe are two of my small circle of college friends. They're dating but I don't mind being the third wheel, as I often find my own post-hang company when we go out. Connor pushes his shaggy black hair out of his face, his index finger shoving up his Harry Potter style glasses. "They really want to push this family thing lately, don't they?"
I nod, taking a sip of my Sex on the Beach. "It's exhausting. I just need to hurry up and save up my money so I can leave."
For as long as I could remember, it had been my dream to move up north. The problem was I had no resources to do so. As a family, we lived comfortably but the money wasn't mine. Before dad passed, we had money from his corporate job, but mom inherited everything. When she remarried, she combined finances, putting everything into joint accounts and property. And as far as I can tell, Gareth was richer still – one of those dream dads who sets up trust funds for their children. So mom had money, Gareth was loaded and Asher lived like royalty ever since getting access to his trust fund earlier this year. But me? I had nothing. And asking for money just so I can leave, was out of the question.
A small hum falls from Phoebe's lips, her natural red hair starting to come loose from the messy bun she had on top of her head. "Maybe you can win some. How much do you need really?"
I laugh, stirring my straw around my drink. "To leave town, get a place to live and set up expenses while trying to find a job? Probably five figures, easily."
My bank account wasn't completely miserable. I was saving when I could, but the job market is scarce in town. I should probably stop going out and spending money, but it is my outlet, my escape from being stuck at home. And most of the time, I can usually score some free drinks from horny men lurking around the bars.
Connor reaches over, grabbing Phoebe's hand and bringing it to his mouth for a peck. They are very sweet, almost to the point where if it wasn't two people I loved, I'd probably vomit from their PDAs. Phoebe gives him a cheeky grin in response as I shake my head playfully. My eyes start scanning the room, trying to locate a target for the evening. Most of the patrons at this point are female, but I'm hopeful yet.
"Is that your stepbrother?" I hear Phoebe ask, and my head swings violently around to follow her direction.
"That motherfucker," I curse, looking at the unmistakable brown hair coming through the entrance.
Asher greets some guys hanging near the door, a small group of them standing in a circle. I recognize some of them from parties as his college friends, but a few are unfamiliar. They are talking amongst themselves, but as if feeling my burning glare on the back of his stupid head, he turns, scanning the room until he finds me. Our eyes meet and I continue glaring, letting him know just how I feel seeing him. He stares at me with a blank face for a few seconds, before breaking out in a grin, giving me a small wink and turning back to his group.
A laugh bubbles out beside me and I give Connor a shady look. "It's not funny."
"It is a little bit," he responds, his blue eyes alight with laughter.
I look at Phoebe for support, but groan when she, too, is on the verge of laughing. "Phoebs, really?"
She holds her hands up defensively. "Could be a good time for family bonding?" she offers.
Lifting my drink, I down the contents in one go, giving them both a look. "You guys suck. I'm going to head to the bar and see if anyone catches my eye."
They snort in unison, another sickly display of PDA but give their blessing. That's something I really respect about them. They don't judge me, when so many people do. It's fine for guys to explore their sexuality in college, but the moment a girl does it, she's a whore. There's nothing wrong with liking sex and wanting attention. We're humans, biologically programmed for it. And as long as I'm safe, I'm not hurting anyone.
I wave them goodbye, grabbing my purse as I head towards the bar. There's a free spot in between some people so I squeeze in, leaning forward to find the bartender. The tall bulky bartender is at the other end of the bar, running the thing solo, which on all accounts, is stupid for a Friday night. It's times like this when I miss Volts, because I know I'd get VIP service straight away. Not that I'm above everyone else, but too much peopling and shoving onto a sticky, dirty bar is off-putting when you're still largely sober.
"Damnit," I curse, watching him ignore this end of the bar.
"He's doing three for three," comes a voice next to me, and I turn to my left, looking at the guy. He's got a man bun, reminding me a bit of Jason Mamoa, and hazel eyes. He hasn't looked at me yet, his own eyes watching the bartender carefully, studying him.
I blink at him. "What?"
Finally, he looks at me, his eyes dancing in victory like he's about to share the juiciest news. "Serving three people down there, three up here, then rotating."
My eyebrows raise in surprise, and I look back at the bartender, happy to see him heading back this way. Immediately, the people around me all start shouting, fighting for his attention. I'm shoved by someone to my right, which knocks me into the human psyche evaluator.
"Shit," I gasp, trying my best not to look like a drunken lunatic or baby deer in my heels. "People are nuts."
Warm hands grab my shoulders, steadying me. "I know. And all over ridiculously over-priced drinks."
You know what? I like this guy. He's not the best looking man here, but he's funny, charming and apparently, understands that people are shit. The switch flicks in my head, and I give him a smile.
"I'm tempted to just get out of here. Might be easier to go to the liquor store, grab a bottle and hang on the beach."
His eyes scan over my face with interest, and I can practically see the gears turning inside his head. Slowly, he nods. "Okay, that sounds like a plan, actually. I just need to say goodbye to my friends, but I can meet you outside?"
I grip my purse, stepping back from the bar. "Sounds good. I'll be the one in red," I say, giving him a grin as I head towards the door.
