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O'Halloran's Pub is right off to the side and looks like a shitty hole in the wall, but Layla promised food and lots of drinks when I show my concerns for it.
This is what I need.
Fried greasy food and lots of alcohol.
Too much alcohol.
Layla keeps feeding us shot after shot after we share a ton of appetizers.
The Pub isn’t as crowded as the Ale House, so we don’t even have to wait for drinks. The music isn’t so bad depending on who picks the song to play on the jukebox. Bridget tries to hog it up with our music, but every once in a while, a random pick of someone else’s choice plays out.
“Ok, ok! My favorite part was the very beginning.” Layla announces gushing over my article for the hundredth time.
They keep going back and forth picking out lines from it. Hence, why I keep drinking to hide my utter embarrassment.
Layla clears her throat to read it out loud. “Since this author has been told, she is not man enough to write about the men’s hockey team, we’ll talk about dance. The dance between the Drexton Hall Huskies and The Boston U Sharks.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” I cut her off.
“Let’s dance!” Bridget jumps up from her seat, pulling me into the middle of the open space where no one else is dancing.
With the buzz of tequila in us, the three of us dance without caring about the odd looks around us.
Soon we have others joining in and we dance to song after song, singing along at the top of our lungs. My head feels fuzzy and it’s getting harder to keep my feet under me.
“I need water!” I yell out to them and make my way to the bar.
After ordering, I feel a tap to my shoulder. “Hey Lenny, celebrating your big story?”
I grumble as I turn to see Jeremy, Dustin’s right hand man.
“What’s it to you? Shouldn’t you be with Dustin following the team around?” I spit out.
Jeremy is a junior like me, and will likely take over from Dustin as Senior Editor once he graduates.
“Don’t hate me for jumping at an opportunity. Assistant Editor looks good on my resume.” He shrugs and orders a couple of shots. “He took Marie as a free vacation.”
I groan loudly. “Of course, he did.”
“Shh. Don’t snitch. I was supposed to go with him.” Jeremy winks and passes me a shot. “Honestly, I fucking hate hockey. I’d rather be following the ski team around.”
He clinks my glass and I follow along as he downs his shot, double tapping the glass on the bar top once he’s done. He motions to the bartender for two more.
“So, are you and Miller an item? Or just fucking around?” Jeremy asks, licking the alcohol off his lips.
“Ha!” I burst out. “Definitely not an item. And there will be no more fucking where that’s concerned.”
I take the second shot and don’t wait to toast before I’m knocking it back.
Yeah, I shouldn’t have had the last one and definitely not this one, but like Layla said, we’re celebrating.
Jeremy laughs watching me.
I swallow the drink and immediately feel it start to come back up. Taking a deep breath, I swallow it back down.
Phew.Not vomit.
Those last two shots were definitely a bad idea.
