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Birdy’s script.
I crouch down, picking the heavy thing up off the floor. The page looks blank except for the few dots marking it. I run my palm over it to brush away the dirt, the little indents tickling my skin. I open the first page, not even sure what I’m looking for, when a paper falls out of it.
Fuck.
Now I ripped her book too. If she didn’t hate me already, which I highly doubt, this just might be the final straw.
It must have fallen out of her hands when I pulled her to me, but she forgot about it as she was running away.
I grab the paper, trying to see if there is some way I can fix it before returning the book to her, only to realize that although the paper also has little dots on it, the texture feels different. This must be hers and not from the book.
Loud laughter snaps me out of my thoughts. I look around, only to realize I’ve been standing in the middle of the doorway like an idiot. Just great.
Some people give me curious looks, but I duck my head. I slip the paper back into the book before exiting the building.
The late afternoon sun is dropping down the sky. I suck in a lungful of air, my eyes scanning the space.
Looking for her.
Just stay away from me.
Rubbing my hand over my jaw, I peek at the watch on my wrist. I have another class in ten, but I’m not feeling it. Besides, it’s not like anybody is going to miss me. On the other hand, there is no way I can go back to my apartment. Just the mere idea makes me feel asphyxiated.
So, what now?
* * *
I’m not sure how long I walked around campus before my stomach rumbled in protest, so I decided to find a place to eat. I spot a few students entering what looks like a bar, so I decide to follow suit, pulling the brim of my cap lower as I enter.
Soft music is playing in the background as I scan the place. Dark hardwood bars, liquor hanging from the ceiling, high-top tables scattered around with leather booths on the side and toward the back. I think I even saw a flash of a green pool table. With a shake of my head, I go toward one of the tables situated in the dark corner, slipping into the chair so my back is turned toward the wall. Not ideal, but at least I’ll have a good view of the whole place instead of risking somebody sneaking up on me.
Placing Penelope’s book on the table, along with my backpack, I pull out my leather notebook and flip to the last page I wrote on. My eyes scan the words written on the paper as I tap the tip of the pen against the table to the beat playing in my head, trying to imagine how the song would sound if I were to play it.
“Hey.”
My head snaps up to the girl standing in front of me. A spark flashes in her eyes when her gaze lands on me. I know that spark very well—interest.
She’s pretty—all long limbs and a curvy body. Her dark eyes stand out against the blond hair pulled in a ponytail. She looks me up and down, the corner of her mouth curving in a smile. “What can I getcha?”
If I were me from a few months ago, I’d have her in the bathroom before my dinner was ready. But that man was nowhere to be found; strangely, I was fine with that.
“Burger, whatever’s the best, and two fingers of Jack on the rocks,” the words slide out of my mouth easily before I can think better of it.
“Sure thing, handsome,” she flashes me a smile before she turns around and starts to walk away.
It’s only then that my words register in my head.
Shit.
“Actually…” She looks over her shoulder at me, hope evident in her eyes. “Can I…” My throat feels dry, so I clear it and try again, “Can I have a coke instead?”
Her brow shoots up in surprise. I expect her to comment on the change, but in the end, she just shrugs. “Burger and coke it is.”
Letting out a sigh, I lean back in my chair, my fingers clenching and unclenching as I try to dull that silent throb in my veins.
This was such a bad idea.
I haven’t stepped into a bar in over three months, ever since New York. It wasn’t even conscious. There just wasn’t an opportunity before now. Rehab offers a lot of things, and bars ain’t one of them. But now that I was here, it was like sliding back into those old times. Times when parties were my life, and alcohol and drugs were my meal of choice.
