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“Maci, I love you, but I don't care. You are choosing to not be with Mack, and you still won’t tell me why, which is fine, but I also refuse to encourage you to stay stuck because you aren’t sure if he’s going to be in your future. Anyway, it’s only one weekend, and what’s the worst that can happen? We will set a few ground rules if it makes you feel better.”
I already know better than to try and talk Lexy out of anything. Once she’s made up her mind, there’s no changing it. “Fine,” I mumble, heading to her closet to pull out a flowy white tank top, much cuter than the one I’m wearing. Before she turns her curling iron off, I twirl my hair a few times as she straps on her heels. She looks me up and down, seemingly mostly satisfied with my appearance, but tosses me mascara as we head out the door.
She climbs into the driver’s seat of my dusty red Corolla, knowing I still hate driving in California. As soon as she puts the key in the ignition, The Used starts blaring through every speaker. It’s loud enough I know she wouldn’t hear me if I started talking, but I know where we are going anyway. Even though the plan is topotentiallyget wild this weekend, we are creatures of habit, and it’s rare we end up somewhere else, at least to start the night.
We pull into the parking lot of 3rd Base LA, and it’s packed. It’s busy for a Thursday, and it’s only seven o’clock, but then I spot an all night Happy Hour sign posted in the entryway. The drinks are strong here, which is why it’s usually our first stop, but there’s no way we are getting a table anytime soon. We head toward the bar, where it’s seat yourself, hoping there will be a couple stools open while we wait. Of course there aren’t any, so we stand next to a dirty high top table, in hopes we can snag it before someone else does. I’m standing here, scoping out the scene, wondering if there’s a plan I could come up with to get me out of saying yes to anything too wild. I realize my arm is resting on something sticky on the table just as I hear a voice from behind me.
“Do you need a table? I can clean this for you.”
Weird, that voice sounds oddly familiar. I spin around on the heel of my boot Lexy made me wear. The moment I see the handsome man in front of me, I know if my arm still hadn't been leaning on the table, I would have fallen right over.
The server stands there, a row of dirty plates stacked on one arm and somehow balancing three beer glasses in his other hand. Sweat glistens around the edge of his blond hair. It’s darker than I remember. I must be losing focus because even staring straight at him, I can’t remember if his eyes are blue or gray. I can see the stunned look in them though, he’s as caught off guard as I am.
Lexy looks at me, confused, taking in the situation and trying to understand what’s happening.
“Hey, I’m..”
“Troy,” I whisper as he says his own name. Lexy’s eyes go wide.
“Troy…like Troy? Math class Troy? Troy who lives in Oregon, Troy?” She’s not subtle at all.
Even though I’ve turned to face her, I can see a flicker of a smile cross his face, probably realizing I’ve mentioned him before. I’m surprised she remembers. I only mentioned him briefly when I came across his letter again recently.
“Mhmm,” I mumble, my lips pressed together, eyes still wide.
“Yes, please,” she tells him. Even though she’s practically yelling at him because the TVs and people in the bar are so loud, it feels like she's talking from across the room because of the fog I’m trapped in.
Before I can register what just happened, Troy is gone.
He comes back with only a wet rag in his hand and doesn’t say anything else as he clears and cleans our table.
I’m still standing here, frozen.
We sit, and I try to look over the menu but nothing my eyes scan over process in my brain. I haven’t talked to Troy since before I found his letter. Well, since the party at Dean’s house. It’s been almost a year. He doesn’t live in this state. How is he here? In California? In this restaurant?
I shake my head to clear my thoughts, looking up right as this memory comes walking back. He’s wearing dark jeans and white Adidas, like the picture of him in my head. Besides that night, I never saw him in much other than a hoodie, so his black button up shirt feels unfamiliar. It’s also tight enough it stretches slightly over his body. He has a lot more muscle than I remember.
Lexy starts talking to him, being her outgoing and very nosy self. I sit there still stunned into silence staring at Troy standing in front of me. He tries to focus on whatever she’s saying, but his eyes keep shifting over to me for split seconds at a time. All of a sudden, he cuts her off mid sentence. “I’m driving out to Vegas this weekend with a friend. You two should meet us out there.”
“I don’t think that’s a —”
“YES!” Lexy practically shouts as she kicks me under the table.
Shit. “Yes weekend.” Of course this would happen.
Troy looks at me, his eyes questioning if I’m agreeing to this. I roll my eyes, leaning into my hands that are stacked above my elbows on the table. I’m probably coming off very dramatic, but seriously, how is this real? “Yes,” I agree, and I make sure I’m loud and clear enough that I won't have to repeat myself.
Relief washes over his face, and I have a flashback to one of the last times I saw him, in the laundry room at the frat party. Lexy places an order for both of us, and Troy walks away, disappearing behind a door on the other side of the bar.
“Ummm, Maci,” Lexy squeals. “Damn, he’s cute.”
I roll my eyes and sink my face into my hands. “I mean I know, but…”
“You need to have a “yes weekend” attitude about this, girl! Come on, what if this is your second chance?”
I pull my head away from my hands to stare at her incredulously. “Coming from the girl who has been telling me to give Mack a second chance for the past month.”
“You know I love Mack, and I support you making it work with him. But you’re not having that, and I’m tired of watching you mope. Plus, this looks like a sign if I’ve ever seen one.” At least she’s honest.
