Page 118
Story: Never Tell Lies
“What’re you talking about? This wasn’t my idea, he insisted on it.”
He laughed. He thought I was joking. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, I’d rather he hadn’t come. He’s been scowling at me ever since we got here.”
Riley snorted and wandered off to the bar.
“Tequila!” The pudgy arms of my best friend were flung around my neck and a shot glass thrust in my face. I downed the shot, wincing and shivering in time to see a certain someone glowering at me. I stuck my tongue out at him, winked, and allowed myself to be dragged off to dance.
The old-fashioned pub was home to an old-fashioned jukebox and it didn’t take us long to create a makeshift dance floor, select a Cyndi Lauper classic, and make damned fools of ourselves. We made it through Abba, most of the Grease soundtrack, and all the way to Bon Jovi before Keira made the universal hand signal for ‘Bathroom Break.’
In the smudged mirror of the dingy bathroom I took stock of myself. My make up had smudged and my hair had lost most of its oomph, but other than that I looked pretty good.
“Whoops!” Keira giggled as she stumbled out of the cubicle. She flung her arms around my waist from behind and we looked at each other in the mirror. Other than Natalie and Ryan, Keira was the only family I had left.
“Hey, don’t cry!” she exclaimed when she saw my tears beginning to threaten.
“I’m not crying, you drunken fool,” I sniffled. “I’m just going to miss you. Who’s going to get me into mischief if you’re not around?”
“You could always come with me. There’s plenty of mischief to be had in London.” She gazed at me with the unfocused eyes of a person who was two tequilas away from falling arse-first out of a taxi. I wanted to tell her about my acceptance to college. I wanted to feel that warm burst of pride at being able to tell everyone I’d finally achieved what I’d failed at so many times before. I wanted to talk to her about my Alfie dilemma, but now wasn’t the time. This was Keira’s night.
I smiled and kissed her on the cheek, releasing her so she could wash her hands. She pressed the button for soap, and a thick gloop slipped out of the container and missed her hand entirely, landing instead in a gelatinous puddle on the corner of the sink.
“Oh, did I tell you we sold the house?” she said as she ran her hands under the tap.
“No! When did this happen?”
“A few days ago. The agent is going to handle everything so I don’t need to be here for anything. I’m free, free as a bird!” She laughed, waving her wet hands around. To the untrained ear, she sounded thrilled, but I could hear the sadness at losing her childhood home. I eyed her, wondering how I could help.
“Do you want to keep some stuff at my place? You won’t be able to take everything you want to keep to London. I have space if you need somewhere to store it.” That was a lie. I didn’t have space, but I could make some.
Now it was her turn to look like she was about to cry.
I bit my lip hard to keep my own tears at bay as we flung our arms around each other once more. Her warm body was soft and familiar, as was the scent of her coconut shampoo. Everything about my best friend was home to me.
“Come on,” she cleared her throat, pulling away, “enough emotional stuff. Let's get drunk.”
Forty-One
The crowd around the bar was thick and heavy. Sweaty bodies jostled one another, all vying for the attention of the man with the booze.
We fought our way through the crowd, Keira looking for any gap in the throng through which she might be able to order another drink. I, as always, was looking for Alfie.
I saw Riley first, perched on a bar stool, as relaxed as ever with a Guinness in his hand. Next to him was a man with the air of a bear woken early from hibernation.
“Where have you been?” he hissed as soon as I reached him.
“Bathroom, why? Did you want to come too?” He did not look amused. In fact, he looked apoplectic. I sighed. Alfie’s moods were exhausting. “We just went to the bathroom, what’s the problem?” I lowered my voice, doing my best to keep our impending argument out of Keira’s earshot. I would not spoil this night for her.
“The problem is that I like to know where you are.”
“And now you do. I was in the bathroom. Drinks?” I turned to Keira, who raised her brows at Riley, who dutifully swivelled on his stool and signalled the bartender. My gaze flitted between the two of them. Riley was still kind of tricky to read, but my bestfriend of twenty years I knew like the back of my hand, and she was looking at the easy-going Irish man like she was going to trip him up and dive straight under. I liked Riley, but Keira would eat him alive. She must be stopped.
Alfie snaked an arm around my waist, jolting me from my thoughts.
“Let me know the next time you’re going somewhere,” he said, low enough so that no one else could hear. I tried to shrug his arm off but his grip on my waist only tightened.
“Alfie, if you need me to play by your rules while I’m out then you need to share with me why you have those rules in the first place. You share, and I’ll play, otherwise it’s no dice.”
He laughed. He thought I was joking. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, I’d rather he hadn’t come. He’s been scowling at me ever since we got here.”
Riley snorted and wandered off to the bar.
“Tequila!” The pudgy arms of my best friend were flung around my neck and a shot glass thrust in my face. I downed the shot, wincing and shivering in time to see a certain someone glowering at me. I stuck my tongue out at him, winked, and allowed myself to be dragged off to dance.
The old-fashioned pub was home to an old-fashioned jukebox and it didn’t take us long to create a makeshift dance floor, select a Cyndi Lauper classic, and make damned fools of ourselves. We made it through Abba, most of the Grease soundtrack, and all the way to Bon Jovi before Keira made the universal hand signal for ‘Bathroom Break.’
In the smudged mirror of the dingy bathroom I took stock of myself. My make up had smudged and my hair had lost most of its oomph, but other than that I looked pretty good.
“Whoops!” Keira giggled as she stumbled out of the cubicle. She flung her arms around my waist from behind and we looked at each other in the mirror. Other than Natalie and Ryan, Keira was the only family I had left.
“Hey, don’t cry!” she exclaimed when she saw my tears beginning to threaten.
“I’m not crying, you drunken fool,” I sniffled. “I’m just going to miss you. Who’s going to get me into mischief if you’re not around?”
“You could always come with me. There’s plenty of mischief to be had in London.” She gazed at me with the unfocused eyes of a person who was two tequilas away from falling arse-first out of a taxi. I wanted to tell her about my acceptance to college. I wanted to feel that warm burst of pride at being able to tell everyone I’d finally achieved what I’d failed at so many times before. I wanted to talk to her about my Alfie dilemma, but now wasn’t the time. This was Keira’s night.
I smiled and kissed her on the cheek, releasing her so she could wash her hands. She pressed the button for soap, and a thick gloop slipped out of the container and missed her hand entirely, landing instead in a gelatinous puddle on the corner of the sink.
“Oh, did I tell you we sold the house?” she said as she ran her hands under the tap.
“No! When did this happen?”
“A few days ago. The agent is going to handle everything so I don’t need to be here for anything. I’m free, free as a bird!” She laughed, waving her wet hands around. To the untrained ear, she sounded thrilled, but I could hear the sadness at losing her childhood home. I eyed her, wondering how I could help.
“Do you want to keep some stuff at my place? You won’t be able to take everything you want to keep to London. I have space if you need somewhere to store it.” That was a lie. I didn’t have space, but I could make some.
Now it was her turn to look like she was about to cry.
I bit my lip hard to keep my own tears at bay as we flung our arms around each other once more. Her warm body was soft and familiar, as was the scent of her coconut shampoo. Everything about my best friend was home to me.
“Come on,” she cleared her throat, pulling away, “enough emotional stuff. Let's get drunk.”
Forty-One
The crowd around the bar was thick and heavy. Sweaty bodies jostled one another, all vying for the attention of the man with the booze.
We fought our way through the crowd, Keira looking for any gap in the throng through which she might be able to order another drink. I, as always, was looking for Alfie.
I saw Riley first, perched on a bar stool, as relaxed as ever with a Guinness in his hand. Next to him was a man with the air of a bear woken early from hibernation.
“Where have you been?” he hissed as soon as I reached him.
“Bathroom, why? Did you want to come too?” He did not look amused. In fact, he looked apoplectic. I sighed. Alfie’s moods were exhausting. “We just went to the bathroom, what’s the problem?” I lowered my voice, doing my best to keep our impending argument out of Keira’s earshot. I would not spoil this night for her.
“The problem is that I like to know where you are.”
“And now you do. I was in the bathroom. Drinks?” I turned to Keira, who raised her brows at Riley, who dutifully swivelled on his stool and signalled the bartender. My gaze flitted between the two of them. Riley was still kind of tricky to read, but my bestfriend of twenty years I knew like the back of my hand, and she was looking at the easy-going Irish man like she was going to trip him up and dive straight under. I liked Riley, but Keira would eat him alive. She must be stopped.
Alfie snaked an arm around my waist, jolting me from my thoughts.
“Let me know the next time you’re going somewhere,” he said, low enough so that no one else could hear. I tried to shrug his arm off but his grip on my waist only tightened.
“Alfie, if you need me to play by your rules while I’m out then you need to share with me why you have those rules in the first place. You share, and I’ll play, otherwise it’s no dice.”
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