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“Cupid, I’m going on break!” I shout down the bar, not waiting for a reply. We’re not super busy since we’re getting closer and closer to closing time, but I figure it’s better than leaving him without any warning at all.
Stepping into the cool air of Coal’s Lake, my phone buzzes harshly in my palm. “Yo?” I call, leaning myself against the brick wall of the bar.
“Scout Ashbluff?” A gruff voice askes.
“Who’s asking?” The voice sounds awfully familiar, and I can’t quite place who but my spine straightens painfully as I try to remember.
“This is Massimo, owner of Vinonova Vineyard,” he starts, and a female voice snaps at them from the background. A small ruffling happens before said female takes the phone.
“Hi, this is Sofia. I got your number from Birdie’s emergency contact list, it has you as her roommate. My husband and I wanted to tell you that we dropped her off at your place in Gideon Lake.” My brow furrows as I try to recall talking with Birdie. Pulling the phone away from my ear, I realize it’s just past one in the morning. There are several texts from Birdie through the evening.
The ride to Gideon Lake is several miles from here, let alone another fifteen miles outside of town. We’d been slammed at the bar tonight, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to even tell her to call me when she needed a ride. Cursing softly, I put the phone back to my ear.
“Thank you for ensuring she made it home safely,” I thank them, my tone filled with absolute gratitude. I’ve failed as a friend.
“Gosh,” she scoffs, and I swear I can hear a head shake. “Can you believe she was trying towalk? We damn near had to kidnap her just to give her a ride!”
“I’m actually not surprised,” I mutter, running my hand through my hair. The air is chilly, and my breaths come out in puffs of air.
“Either way, just wanted to let you know.” We say our quick goodbyes before I finally read through all of her messages.
Birdie
Hey! Just letting you know I’m going to be late tonight. Some big wig is showing up ??
Ooooh, it was some dude from TikTok wanting to get samples.
Are you busy at work?
I’m taking your silence as a yes lol I’ll let you know when I get home.
I’m off work, are you free?
Again, silence as a sign that you’re not. Be safe!
Cursing, I dial her number, only to be met by her voice mail immediately. I try again, only to get the same outcome. Tapping my foot, it takes everything in me not to leave this god-forsaken bar and track her down. I’m also a little pissed off that she hasn’t shared her location with me. Her bosses called and ensured she was home safe. But can a fucking phone call be enough?
Unfortunately, I know how Birdie is. She probably sat there for ten minutes trying to decide whether or not to even call me. We’ve known each other since we were infants, and if it hadn’t been for that fateful night…
I can’t let myself wonder about those horrible thoughts. She’s safe. She’s fine. She can wait until I get off…though, it doesn’t hurt to just try one more time.
Shouting from inside the bar takes my attention away from my persistent dialing. Ending the call, I shove the damn thing away and hurry inside. I almost crash into one of the rock-for-brains bouncers, who looks caught in the headlights. We’re around the same height, I’m maybe a couple inches taller at six foot two.
“What the fuck is going on?” I shout, halting everyone in their tracks. “I step outside for ten minutes and come back to a fucking shit show?”
“Man, these rowdy kids were stomping their feet on my end of the bar!” Dennis hollers as he points to a group of college girls. “Half naked, I could see her damn coochie! No offense, but I ain’t wantin’ to see that shit. I asked them to get on their end, then she spat in my drink!”
“Alright, wrap it up everyone,” I shout, twirling a finger above my head. “We’re not doing this tonight. Tabs are closing out now. Make a line at the railing and get your ID ready.”
After what felt like all night, I put the rest of the glasses on the rack for tomorrow. I didn’t expect tonight to turn out like this. Dennis and Paul were all too happy to make a report on the college girl who was drunk out of her mind. I took their statements, then put them in the shred box. Grown ass men acting like fucking children, I scoff at the thought alone.
Looking at the time, it’s just after three in the morning.
“Fuck,” I curse, running a hand through my hair. It’s still damp from the dishes I washed. It catches on a few pieces, the tugs harsh enough to keep me grounded and focused.
It’s fucking pathetic how my chest tightens in fear for the one woman I’ve been in love with since I can remember. I’m pretty sure I told our families I was going to marry her one day. She laughed at me and acted like it was nothing. In reality, the damn organ in my chest beats only for her. I’ve tried to call her a couple of times, but they’ve all gone to voice mail. Once I finally sent her a text, it didn’t even push it through as delivered. So, she must have shut her phone off or let it die.
I wouldn’t be surprised by either one.
