Page 11
Story: Because of Dylan
I sigh. River is a much better friend than I’ll ever be. “I’m sorry about ruining your birthday.”
“Pfffff. That was ages ago. And you didn’t ruin it. I’m still here. Still twenty-one, and we can go out again any time we want.”
“It was three days ago, and instead of celebrating your birthday, you dragged my ass to my dorm and watched over me all night. So no, that was not a good birthday celebration at all. I owe you a proper celebration.”
“It’s my turn to do laundry at home. Come over and do the laundry, and we’ll call it even.” She chuckles. River is not really the domestic type.
“In your dreams. Hold on.” I put the phone down and take an order before grabbing the phone again.
“Sorry. Had a customer.”
“You’re at work? Sorry. You should have said something. I won’t bother you.”
“No bother. The place is dead. There’s like five people here. It’s never busy on Tuesday nights.”
“So … what’s going on with your new boy-toy? You’ve been together for what? Ten days now? Is this one going to stick?”
I roll my eyes. “Tommy is just a friend. I told you that already.”
“Yeah, but you two spend so much time together. I thought he was working his way into your pants.”
“Nothing to work on. I like the kid. He’s nice.”
“You don’t do nice.”
I pause. True. She’s right. I don’t do nice. So what?
“He’s different.”
“In my experience guys always, always want something. They’re never in it just to be nice or friends,” River says, and I can almost see her twirling a long strand of hair in her fingers.
“That’s because you look like a freaking supermodel. Can’t blame them for going stupid every time they see you.”
“Ugh.” River rejects all mentions of her good looks like I reject any notions of nice guys and love. Except for Tommy.
“I’ll let you get back to work. Don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Nah, you can’t get me in trouble in this hole-in-the-wall. Gus doesn’t have anyone else to take over the bar. I call the shots, and he doesn’t care.”
“Okay, boss lady, if you say so. But I’m tired. Going to bed. See you tomorrow?”
“Sure. Meet you for coffee in the morning.”
“Bye.” She hangs up with a yawn, and I pocket my phone.
River may not believe Tommy is just a friend and not a future boy-toy, but that’s okay. I like the kid. It feels like having a younger brother. I know it's crazy, but I feel somewhat responsible for him. I enjoy having someone to talk to who doesn't try to get into either my brain or my pants. I can let my guard down around him.
I snatch a dirty shot glass from the bar and put it upside down in the dishwasher tray before going back to wiping the counters. When was the last time I had a drink? River’s birthday? And I haven’t hooked up with anyone since … meeting Tommy.
Wow. I didn’t even miss it. Being around Tommy calms the constant churning in my chest. I don’t feel the need to always be on the move or to be a step ahead of everything I left behind. Why? I don’t have any romantic feelings for him. Is this because he’s a break in my routine?
No. It’s more than that. I care about him, and I care about what he thinks—what he thinks about me. The idea of disappointing him disturbs me.
My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans. I toss the rag I'm using to clean the counter into a bucket filled with cleaning solution, and wash and dry my hands before picking up my phone.
Tommy: Hey, you working tonight?
It's like Tommy knows I’m thinking of him.
“Pfffff. That was ages ago. And you didn’t ruin it. I’m still here. Still twenty-one, and we can go out again any time we want.”
“It was three days ago, and instead of celebrating your birthday, you dragged my ass to my dorm and watched over me all night. So no, that was not a good birthday celebration at all. I owe you a proper celebration.”
“It’s my turn to do laundry at home. Come over and do the laundry, and we’ll call it even.” She chuckles. River is not really the domestic type.
“In your dreams. Hold on.” I put the phone down and take an order before grabbing the phone again.
“Sorry. Had a customer.”
“You’re at work? Sorry. You should have said something. I won’t bother you.”
“No bother. The place is dead. There’s like five people here. It’s never busy on Tuesday nights.”
“So … what’s going on with your new boy-toy? You’ve been together for what? Ten days now? Is this one going to stick?”
I roll my eyes. “Tommy is just a friend. I told you that already.”
“Yeah, but you two spend so much time together. I thought he was working his way into your pants.”
“Nothing to work on. I like the kid. He’s nice.”
“You don’t do nice.”
I pause. True. She’s right. I don’t do nice. So what?
“He’s different.”
“In my experience guys always, always want something. They’re never in it just to be nice or friends,” River says, and I can almost see her twirling a long strand of hair in her fingers.
“That’s because you look like a freaking supermodel. Can’t blame them for going stupid every time they see you.”
“Ugh.” River rejects all mentions of her good looks like I reject any notions of nice guys and love. Except for Tommy.
“I’ll let you get back to work. Don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Nah, you can’t get me in trouble in this hole-in-the-wall. Gus doesn’t have anyone else to take over the bar. I call the shots, and he doesn’t care.”
“Okay, boss lady, if you say so. But I’m tired. Going to bed. See you tomorrow?”
“Sure. Meet you for coffee in the morning.”
“Bye.” She hangs up with a yawn, and I pocket my phone.
River may not believe Tommy is just a friend and not a future boy-toy, but that’s okay. I like the kid. It feels like having a younger brother. I know it's crazy, but I feel somewhat responsible for him. I enjoy having someone to talk to who doesn't try to get into either my brain or my pants. I can let my guard down around him.
I snatch a dirty shot glass from the bar and put it upside down in the dishwasher tray before going back to wiping the counters. When was the last time I had a drink? River’s birthday? And I haven’t hooked up with anyone since … meeting Tommy.
Wow. I didn’t even miss it. Being around Tommy calms the constant churning in my chest. I don’t feel the need to always be on the move or to be a step ahead of everything I left behind. Why? I don’t have any romantic feelings for him. Is this because he’s a break in my routine?
No. It’s more than that. I care about him, and I care about what he thinks—what he thinks about me. The idea of disappointing him disturbs me.
My phone buzzes in the back pocket of my jeans. I toss the rag I'm using to clean the counter into a bucket filled with cleaning solution, and wash and dry my hands before picking up my phone.
Tommy: Hey, you working tonight?
It's like Tommy knows I’m thinking of him.
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