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“We’re booze cruising, ladies. Let’s roll!”
* * *
The Uber pulls up moments after we stumble out of the building, and the driver rolls down his window for verification.
“Shotgun!” Delores loudly announces into the night when she sees the young, semi-attractive man at the wheel, leaving Carly and me to pile into the back.
“I swear, I didn’t know Scott had a girlfriend,” Carly hiccups, and for a moment, I’m concerned she’s close to ralphing.
“I know,” I sigh as I hold my head with both hands to keep it from spinning off. Everything Kyle told me back at the Silver Lining was true. I just needed to digest it. And now that I have, I feel like the biggest ass hat in the county.
I need to make it up to him. And I need to think of something fast. Maybe I could grovel on my knees in front of a crowd like he did to show I’m sincere. Nah. I need to come up with my own creative grand gesture.
As if the universe has read my mind, one of my favorite songs blares from the speakers, filling the space of the back seat. Oh, my beloved eighties, you’ve come to guide me.
I sing and sway to “Karma Chameleon,” and before I know it, my new ironic best friend has her arm around me, singing along; her, me, and the snowboard.
We lay on the dramatics and bounce around in the seat, putting on the performance of our lives, and just as I realize what I can do for Kyle, Carly jumps and shouts, scaring the bejeezus out of me as she points out the window.
“Look! Cows! Pull over!”
* * *
Kyle
“Why…?” I groan into my arms, folded on the bar top, as Adam awkwardly pats my back, much like I was doing with my sister earlier.
“Just give her a little time to wig out,” he consoles.
“And when she’s done? Then what?” I ask out loud to both him and myself. “She might get over the shock, but can she really see herself living her day-to-day with someone whose sister banged her ex in front of her very eyes?”
It’s over.
The pessimist in me is winning at the moment. I down the shot of whatever the hell Adam puts in front of me and let my forehead meet the mahogany once again. I’ve begun a mental checklist of how the hell I’m supposed to get through the next few days, weeks, months, without my goddess, when an earsplitting shriek rings out through the speakers, followed by the first few notes of a familiar song.
Some kind of stupid shenanigans are going down. Stuff like this happens a lot at the Silver Lining. I’m too depressed to lift my head and find out what’s happening, but then the music is joined by really, really horrible singing.
Is someone gutting a feral cat to REO Speedwagon?
“Um… Kyle?” Adam pats my shoulder with more emphasis this time. “You might want to look up.”
I raise my head to see the features of his face scrunched together, as if he’s in pain, then I follow his line of sight over to the small karaoke stage to see… Gwen.
My goddess is here, standing on that stage, her eyes on me while the rest of the bar’s eyes are on her. She’s singing “Keep on Loving You”…badly. She’s belting it at the top of her lungs. Her key is wavering, but not in that impressive Mariah Carey way. Oh no… it’s coming out in a drawn-out, drunken cackle that I’m pretty sure only bats are supposed to hear. Someone’s pint glass just shattered, and I’m pretty sure my left ear is bleeding a little.
But Gwen is up there, albeit a little tossed by the way she’s swaying and how her space buns seem a little tousled too. But she looks like the goddess of my galaxy, and she’s singing about how she can’t stop loving me… I think. It’s a little hard to tell when her eyeballs don’t seem to want to point in the same direction, but I really think she’s trying her damnedest to keep them both on me.
I’m not sure if she means to fall to her knees when she sings how she doesn’t want to sleep, or if it just happened when she stumbled off the stage but she’s playing it off beautifully.
Without conscious thought, I stand from my stool and walk in slow motion through the crowd. Yes, slow motion. Don’t ruin my moment. When I reach Gwen, I bend down slightly to take her hand and help her to her feet. At the same time, Shawn the bartender takes the mic from her hand and cuts the music and the rest of the patrons cheer.
“I’m sorry.” Her sparkling green eyes hold mine as her brow furrows cautiously, unsure of what kind of response she’ll be met with.
“It’s okay,” I immediately breathe out as I take her face in my hands and kiss her lips. I’m not wasting any time when it comes to sealing our reunion.
“Really?” she asks, eyes hopeful but still concerned. “That was really stupid.”
“Are you referring to leaving earlier or your performance?” I ask. “Because neither thing was stupid,” I assure her.
