One for the Road (Barflies Book 3)

by Katia Rose

  I was really fucking good at it. I always played the extra hard level, and I always chose ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ when it was my turn to pick the song. I would jump around on the mat watching Cyndi Lauper dance up her street in her crazy outfit, wanting to be just like her. She didn’t look like anything could make her sad; she’d just put on one of her pink skirts and her weird little hats and head out on an adventure.

  “Doot do do doot do,” I sing along with the music as I turn the stove down and head into Monroe’s living room with my tea.

  There are books everywhere: on shelves, stacked in piles along the wall, and scattered all over the coffee table. I move a couple over so I can sit on the couch.

  Since Monroe won’t be home for another hour or so, I open up my laptop and find something to watch.

  Two and a half hours go by before she sends a message

  So sorry! Running a little late with paperwork. I’ll be home by seven at the latest. Do you want to order something for dinner?

  It’s not a big deal. I knew she’d stay late; she almost always does. She’s only a few blocks away, and the sun sets so late now it won’t even be that dark by seven. She’ll be fine.

  Everything will be fine.

  I text her to let her know I made chili and that I’m calling dibs on picking the movie. I try to get back into my show after that, but even with the French subtitles on, I can’t pay attention to what the people are saying.

  All I can hear is the creaking of the old building and the occasional thump or bang of someone moving around next door. Monroe doesn’t have a clock on her wall, but it’s so quiet in here I can hear my brain going tic-tock, tic-tock.

  Clém and I had a wall clock in our apartment in Trois-Rivières. The place came with furniture, and the clock was there when we moved in. It was just a plain, cheap plastic one like they have in classrooms at school.

  I sat there watching it for hours and hours the night she didn’t come home. I stared at the numbers for so long they became a blur, but I could still hear that maudit sound:

  Tic-tock. Tic-tock. Tic-tock.

  It got so loud it felt like I was standing in a cave and the noise was bouncing off all the walls, hitting my ears over and over and over again until all I wanted to do was scream.

  I turn the volume up on my laptop as high as it will go. I’m not even trying to watch the show anymore, but the sound of voices helps calm me down. I grab my phone off the table and type ‘funny memes’ into Google. I’m just about to send one to Zach when I remember.

  We aren’t texting anymore.

  This is exactly what I was afraid of. This is why I put my hand over his mouth and pushed him away when all I wanted to do was cover his lips with mine and pull him down on top of me on his couch.

  I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to lose anyone again, and it’s tearing my heart into pieces to think that maybe I already have.

  Eleven

  DeeDee

  SPARKLING: an effervescent beverage

  “This is cray cray.” I dab the corners of my eyes with one of the little handkerchiefs Roxanne gave out to all her bridesmaids. “Roxy and Cole, married at last.”

  The wedding countdown is over. One of my best friends became a wife today.

  I have an arm around Monroe’s shoulders, while Kay, another bridesmaid, is patting her on the head. Monroe has been sobbing into her handkerchief for a while now. The three of us are standing on the edge of the dance floor in our matching emerald green dresses with wreaths of leaves in our hair, watching Cole spin Roxanne around to their wedding song.

  Cole is the bassist in a rock band famous enough that there are body guards here today, and the other band members are up on stage playing ‘Read My Mind’ by The Killers.

  “I’m j-just s-so happy for h-her,” Monroe stutters while she cries.

  I squeeze her in tighter to me. “Je sais, ma belle. I know.”

  Roxanne looks more like a model than ever. Her dress has a beaded top with pretty little lace cap sleeves, and when she twirls out to the end of Cole’s arm, the layer of gold under the white skirt catches the light and makes her glow like the sunrise.

  Still, it’s hard to even notice her dress when she’s smiling at Cole. He leans in to whisper something in her ear, and I swear she could light the whole city up tonight. The two of them look at each other like they’re finally standing on top of a mountain they’ve spent their whole lives climbing up.

  I whip out my handkerchief again and take a deep breath. I’m going to be sobbing like Monroe if this dance doesn’t end soon.

  The last note is fading and people have started to applaud when I see him across the room.

  I knew he was here, but I was so busy with bridesmaid stuff I didn’t talk to anyone but the wedding party before the ceremony. I thought I spotted him at his table during dinner, but I made a point of not looking that way again. I didn’t want our eyes to lock. I didn’t want to know what I’d see when they did.

  It’s been over two weeks of this. Over two weeks of awkward hellos and weird silences at work. Every time I see him, I take a deep breath like I’m about to say something, but I never do. It always gets stuck in my throat. I want to fix whatever we broke. I want to pull him closer, but I’m scared anything I try will just push him away.

  It’s like watching somebody fall through the ice in the middle of a lake: you run out to save them, but the closer you get, the thinner the ice becomes, and you have no choice but to slow down and back away.

  I don’t want to back away when I see him watching me from across the dance floor.

  I want to run towards him so fast my arms and legs turn into spinning wheels like I’m in a cartoon. I want to tackle him to the floor and tell him over and over again how much I miss him. I want to feel his arms around me and hear him telling me everything is going to be all right.

  He looks so handsome tonight. His hair is combed back, and his beard is trimmed short enough to have that sexy stubble look. He’s wearing a black suit with a white shirt and bright pink tie. I know he can’t have picked it to match my hair; we’re not even talking, and it’s the kind of dorky thing Zach would wear on his own anyway, but a lump still forms in my throat when I realize it’s just the right colour.

  I’m still propping Monroe up, and Zach looks like he’s in the middle of a conversation with some guy beside him, but everything else goes blurry and muted as we watch each other.

  He looks like he’s in pain. He looks like he’s aching, and I want to tell him I am too. I want to get down on my knees if that’s what it will take and just beg him to let us fix this, beg him to let this go back to the way it was.

  If we could just pretend the past few weeks never happened, I could stop imagining. I could stop dreaming. I could stop wanting. I want him so much. I want my friend back so much it hurts, but then I look at him, and my fingers are trembling to touch him. I don’t know how to have both those things, and somehow I’ve ended up with neither.

  “DeeDee?”

  “Huh?” It feels like my head turns in slow motion when I look back at Kay.

  “I asked if you wanted champagne.”

  Monroe is drying her eyes while Kay lifts two champagne glasses off the tray of the waiter beside her. I didn’t even notice him show up.

  “Oh. Yeah. Champagne sounds good.”

  Booze in general sounds good.

  I take a glass from Kay, and she grabs a third for Monroe. The three of us cheers to the happy couple. I down my glass in two sips.

  Kay wags her eyebrows at me. “Ready to party, eh?”

  I nod. “Always.”

  “Coooooole!” I grab Roxanne’s boyfriend—no, husband—by the shoulders so he’ll stop spinning. Everything is spinning. “Stand still. I need to talk to you.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “I’m not moving, DeeDee.”

  I let go of his shoulders and pat his arm instead. “Ha. Of course. You know what, Cole? You’re pretty funny. Everyone thinks
you’re really scary because you don’t talk a lot and you look sort of...uh...grim! That is the word. Grim. I think you’re pretty funny, though. I’m not scared of you.”

  He nods. “Uh, okay. Do you want some water or something?”

  “I want to know how you knew you were in love with Roxanne.”

  He looks over his shoulders like he’s trying to find someone in the crowd. “Do you need to, uh, sit down or something?”

  “Bonne idée!” I pat his arm again and then head over to the nearest empty table. “Come sit with me, Cole.”

  I lost track of time—and champagne glasses—a while ago. A lot of guests have headed out already, and the crowd that’s left is divided into party animals going wild on the dance floor and people falling asleep or having deep conversations at the tables and chairs.

  My heels are killing me from dancing for so long, so I figure it’s time to take a break from being a party animal.

  Cole sits down on the edge of the chair farthest away from me at the table.

  “Tabarnak. I’m not going to bite you, Cole. Come closer. We have important things to talk about.”

  He moves one chair over.

  “Good enough.”

  I sit there blinking at him while the room keeps shifting around behind him.

  “DeeDee?” he says after a minute.

  “Quoi?”

  “You said we have important things to talk about.”

  “Right!” I smack the table with my hands. “We do. Um, hmm, what were they?”

  There’s something I’m not supposed to be thinking about tonight. I know it got easier to ignore with every glass of champagne. I can still feel it floating around at the edge of my thoughts, like an annoying bug trying to bite me. I swat it away.

  “Do you have something stuck in your hair?”

  “What? No.”

  “Why are you doing that?” Cole starts waving his hands around the sides of his head to imitate me.

  “Oh. Whoops. I meant to do that in my head.” I burst out laughing.

  He just looks as stern as ever. “DeeDee, I’m going to tell you something you probably don’t want to hear. You’re pretty drunk. Should I get someone for you? Do you need a cab?”

  “Attends, attends!” I motion for him to stay still. “I remember. I wanted to ask you how you knew you were in love with Roxanne.”

  I don’t remember why I wanted to ask him, but I’ll figure that out.

  “Ah. Well.” The corners of his lips twitch. I think that’s as close as he gets to smiling. “If you really want to know...Figuring out I loved her was the easy part. She scared the shit out of me in a way no one else ever had, and that’s how I knew she was the one.”

  I blink. “What the fuck?”

  Cole makes a rumbly sound. I think he’s laughing. “I know that’s not, you know, what they say it feels like in poems and songs and stuff, but when I met Roxy, it felt...big. Powerful. Inevitable, even. I don’t know if I believe in fate, but the second I saw her sitting outside that bus station all those years ago, I...It wasn’t love. Not yet. It was this pull—this force, and it was terrifying. When I look back now, that’s how I knew. What I felt for her was bigger and scarier than anything I’d ever felt before.”

  “Wow. I’ve never heard you say that many words in a row.”

  He makes the rumbly sound again. “Well, you’re drunk and probably won’t remember this.”

  “Do you really think love is supposed to be scary?”

  He looks past me and out onto the dance floor, his eyes following the shape of someone I can’t see. “To be honest, I don’t give a fuck about what love is supposed to be. I look at her, and I feel it. That’s enough for me.”

  I rest my chin in my hands and watch him watch her. Cole is a wise man. He has some secrets figured out, and maybe if I watch him long enough, I can figure them out too. Maybe I can figure out why seeing him and Roxy dance and laugh and be in love together makes me feel like crying happy tears and punching something in the face at the same time.

  Or maybe I’ll have more champagne.

  “Oh, hey.”

  I know that voice. It comes from over my shoulder, but I don’t have to turn my head to know who it is.

  Now I remember what I was trying to forget.

  I’ve spent all night avoiding Zach. I’ve also been staring at him every time I’m sure he’s not looking. I just want to pull him onto the dance floor and jump around doing stupid moves. I want to ask him what he thought of the ceremony, if he cried, if he likes my dress.

  Only everything is wrong and spinning, and I had way too much champagne.

  “Hey, man.” Cole gets up from his chair. I want to whisper, ‘Don’t leave me,’ but I stay quiet. “It’s Zach, right? You’re part of the Taverne Toulouse crowd?”

  “That would be me, yes.”

  Cole tilts his chin in my direction. “So you know DeeDee?”

  “Uh, yes. We’re friends.”

  I still can’t see him, but he almost sounds nervous.

  “Well, she’s hammered.”

  “Oh, Jesus lord.”

  I snort.

  He is such a dork.

  He steps forward enough that I can see him out of the corner of my eye. I slowly turn my head.

  “DeeDee?” he asks. “You okay?”

  “Maybe.” I blink at him. His eyes are so blue. “Maybe not.”

  Then I throw my head back and laugh.

  Zach looks at Cole again. “I see what you mean. I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

  “Thanks.”

  They do some sort of manly-man handshake thing and Zach congratulates Cole on the wedding before he takes off.

  “Aww, that was cute. You guys are like besties now.”

  “DeeDee.” Zach slumps into the seat beside me, but now I’m staring at the table cloth, and I don’t look up. “DeeDee, hey. Are you okay?”

  “Hmm. I had a lot of champagne.”

  “You don’t say.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “What do you mean? I do say.”

  “It’s an expression.”

  “It’s dumb.”

  He thinks for a second. “Yeah, it is. Is there any reason you won’t look at me, or is that because of the champagne too?”

  I keep staring at the table. Words are bubbling up inside me, and if I look at him, I’m going to let them out.

  “DeeDee?”

  I lift my head. He’s so close I could kiss him. Instead, I start to speak, and once I do, I can’t stop.

  “I like it when you say my name. I really, really like it. I like it when you smile at me. I like it when you sit beside me. I like when you send me memes and dumb jokes. I like your beard, even though it’s kind of silly. I like your farmer boy flannel shirts. I like all your stories about your family and your small town. I like the shape of your mouth. I like the smell of your skin. I like how I feel when I’m with you—like I’m home and I’m safe and...and I like you, okay? I like you, Zach, and I told myself from the start that I wouldn’t.”

  He’s breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling in his suit.

  “Why?”

  “Because it was scary. Because it mattered. Because I always end up with the guys who don’t stick around for long. I always need them too much for them to stay, and that’s fine, you know? It doesn’t matter how long they stay as long as there’s someone, but you...I didn’t want that to happen with you, so I knew we should just be friends. Only now we don’t even have that.”

  “DeeDee.” He winces like I’ve slapped him. “DeeDee, I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want to be your friend. I just...I needed some time to figure out how to do that. I still want you in my life. I always have.”

  “But you’re right!” I notice a few heads turn our way and lower my voice. “You’re right. We can’t. We can’t keep doing it like this. I want you too much.”

  “You what?”

  I swallow. “I...I want you too much.”

&nbs
p; “Say it one more time.”

  Then I notice he’s grinning. I punch him in the shoulder. “Zach, you connard!”

  “I’m sorry, I just...I have waited a very long time to hear you say that.”

  “Well now I’m saying it, and everything is fucked.”

  He slouches back in his chair. “DeeDee, I...There are a lot of things I want to say right now, but you’re pretty drunk, and we’re at a wedding, and it’s just really not the environment I imagined saying them in, so how about we get you home?”

  He pulls out his phone, and I see him opening the Uber app.

  “I’m being stupid, aren’t I?” I mumble.

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know. The champagne is telling me I’m stupid.”

  “There, there.” He pats my shoulder. “Where are you staying?”

  “My new apartment.”

  “Right. I forgot you finally moved in. What’s the address?”

  “Uh...” I scrunch my nose up and think. “I forget.”

  “You forget?”

  “I just moved in!”

  Zach tells me to check my phone, and I find it in my Maps history with a bit of help from him. The letters are a little blurry.

  “Okay, ride will be here in five minutes. I’ll wait outside with you.”

  I get up from my chair and wobble in my heels, grabbing the edge of the table before I can fall over. “You’re not coming in the Uber?”

  He gets up and takes my arm. “Well, I wasn’t going to, but seeing as you couldn’t read your own address and almost couldn’t stand up, I think I’d better.”

  The wedding is at some big warehouse that’s been converted into an event space. Zach says it will take about half an hour to get to my place. I must pass out pretty fast in the car, because it feels like I’ve only just put my seatbelt on by the time we arrive.

  “Hey.” Zach’s whisper just above my ear wakes me up. “Time to get out.”

  My head is on his shoulder. I blink the sleep out of my eyes. It’s dark in the car, but the streetlight outside is shining on his face, and he’s staring at me like I’m the prettiest, sweetest thing he’s ever seen.