Page 7 of Baby, It’s You (Clairesville #1)

Hunter

I glance up from editing on my laptop at the sound of my phone buzzing.

Wes’s name, with the photo of him jumping off my roof on his skateboard, flashes across my screen.

I pick up and answer the call. Instantly I hear bass thudding through the speakers on the other side, along with some garbled speech.

“Turn your music down,” I say into the phone.

“What?” Wes asks. Drums and bass still blast in the background.

“TURN YOUR MUSIC DOWN!” I shout.

Suddenly there's silence on the other end. “Sorry, man,” Wes chuckles. “My bad. I just picked up Eddie and we are headed to get you.”

Shit , I think as I look over at my clock. I completely forgot I told him I would possibly come out with them tonight. To Wes, that means yes.

I shut my laptop and put my phone on speaker as I open my closet. “Where are we going tonight?” I ask.

“Just to a bar on the other side of town, a dive bar I found when I was searching for karaoke spots.”

“And why were you searching for karaoke spots?” I question. The introvert in me wants to cancel already.

“Because I want to belt out some Creed for my birthday. Is that too much to ask? I’m twenty-nine now, and I've got to start acting like a responsible adult,” Eddie says, jumping into the conversation. Knowing this is what he wants to do for his birthday, I can’t back out now.

“Happy birthday, man,” I tell him. “How much time do I have till you guys get here?”

Wes responds, “In three…two…”

I hear the click of the call hangup and the sound of “Pound Town” by Skream growing louder outside. Okay then, I guess they are here.

I grab a dark green snapback out of the top bin of my closet and toss a black T-shirt on.

Pushing my unruly curls out of my eyes, I slide my hat on and grab my keys and phone.

Running down the steps, I shout to Dennis that I’m leaving and hear a grunt from the guest room in response.

I don’t want to know what he’s doing in there.

Dog waits for me at the door and I bend down to her level. “I’ll be back, girl,” I say, rubbing between her ears. She tries to tangle herself between my legs in protest and I give her one last scratch before standing up and walking out.

When I get outside, I see Eddie hanging out the top of Wes’s jeep as the music still blasts. “I’m twenty-nine, bitches!” he screams, and shotguns a beer. Of course, he does this as my sweet old neighbor Mrs. Bodart walks by with her Shih Tzu, Pebbles.

I hold up my hand in an apology wave and give her a smile. “Lovely night we’re having, Mrs. Bodart,” I shout over the song. She just gives a look and walks on, much quicker this time.

I quickly hop into the back of the jeep before they can embarrass me any further. “Turn that shit down,” I say.

“Sorry, dude.” Wes turns down the music and looks at me through the rearview mirror. “Eddie did a little pre-gaming before.”

“I can tell,” I shout as we pull out of the driveway.

Eddie turns around to face me from the passenger seat. “I’m drunk because it's my birthday. Also, I’m having a midlife crisis,” Eddie tells me, and then faces forward again. He puts his feet up on Wes’s dashboard and Wes pushes them back to the floor.

“Feet off the dash. Also, you’re twenty-nine, not forty,” Wes says. “And you have accomplished more in twenty-nine years than most people ever have in their lives.”

I nod my head in agreement. It's true. Eddie was a star college soccer player and then decided he wanted to give it all up one day to start his own app. One night he was sitting in his dorm room and couldn’t find a show to watch while he ate his meal, so he just sat there scrolling through a million options and streaming services while his food got cold.

That’s when the idea struck him. He started an app that tells you what show or movie you should watch based on what you're eating, and it actually became wildly successful.

Who knew people just wanted someone to tell them what to watch while they eat?

The world is easier when we can just shut off our brains sometimes and enjoy a good bowl of pasta while watching Breaking Bad.

The app is called Watch What You Eat. So basically, Eddie is an immense success compared to most people, and his existential crisis is unnecessary. I think most adults feel that way every time their birthday comes around, though. I know I have gotten the birthday blues before, too.

The sun begins setting behind us as we drive around the winding mountains to the other side of Clairesville.

The wind is blasting us as we speed around each turn and I’m unsure how Wes is even able to drive with his long, blond hair whipping around his face.

Girls have always loved Wes; back in high school they called him a Greek god.

He has never lacked in the dating department, and he’s definitely the most outgoing of the three of us.

I wouldn’t even call what he does dating.

More like dialing any woman’s number out of his phone and having a hookup.

He is always trying to convince me to go out with him to the bars and have casual hookups, but I just can’t do it.

I need to feel invested in someone to get to a place of intimacy with them.

Eddie and Wes both give me a hard time about that.

“I’m starving. Let’s grab something on the way,” Wes shouts over the wind.

“Let the birthday boy pick,” I respond.

Eddie looks up from his phone where he’s suddenly in work mode, texting an employee about marketing. Even drunk he is still a boss, but thank god for autocorrect. “Obviously I want Bricks.”

Wes nods. “Bricks it is, captain.”

Bricks is a pizza spot that we have been going to since we were all fourteen.

We used to skate around and find quarters on the ground to grab some one-dollar cheese pizza slices there every day after school.

Looking back, those were some of the best times.

Even Dennis used to come with us every once in a while.

The guys agree that he used to be pretty cool back in the day.

His dad’s lack of fathering just really did a number on him.

While we grew up with structure, he grew up with chaos.

Wes parks the Jeep in front of Bricks, and we all jump out and head inside the metal warehouse door that takes to you the front counter.

Before it was a restaurant, it used to be an airplane hangar, so the inside of Bricks is huge.

Bands perform shows here all the time after closing since the space is so large; it can get pretty wild.

Wes hung from a ceiling rafter during a punk show once, fell, and broke his ankle.

The owner, Brick Wrigley, was furious even though Wes promised not to sue. He was unable to skate for months.

“You guys go get us a table and I’ll order,” I tell the guys, making my way up to the counter.

Brick Wrigley’s daughter, Savannah, stands at the register and gives me a huge smile when she sees me.

The guys have always said she has a big crush on me, but I just haven’t felt any interest in asking her out.

Don’t get me wrong, she is beautiful. She’s blonde and has ocean blue eyes and an enthusiastic sense of humor.

But I’m not going to waste a woman’s time if I’m not invested in getting to know her.

My dad always taught me to be a man of good intentions, and I stand by that, always.

“Hi, Hunter,” Savannah says, looking up at me through her lashes. “I like your hair today.”

I reach up and touch my hat. “Oh yeah, thanks. A hat is the only way to keep it under control.”

“I love it. There’s something about a man in a hat that really gets me…” She trails off, staring at me. After we stand in silence for an uncomfortable few seconds, I clear my throat. She snaps out of her trance and looks embarrassed.

I try to save the awkward moment and give her a sincere smile. “Hey, thanks, that’s kind of you to say.” I quickly change the subject. “Can I get six slices of pepperoni and three beers for the guys and I, please? We are in kind of a rush, hitting a karaoke night for Eddie’s birthday.”

She tucks her hair behind an ear and recovers. “OMG, sorry. Yes, of course! I’ll put it in right now.” She punches our order into the register and adds, “Tell Eddie I said happy birthday!”

“Will do. Thanks, Savannah,” I say, as I hand her my card to pay.

She swipes it, gives me my receipt, and then pops into the kitchen with our ticket like someone just lit a fire under her. That thankfully puts an end to the awkward exchange.

When I get to the table, I can see the guys cackling, looking at me.

“Do I hear wedding bells in the future?” Wes teases.

“Dude, you’re so red right now,” Eddie chimes in.

I run my hands over my face. “Stop. I don’t want to make her feel bad,” I say, glancing back towards the counter to make sure she’s not in earshot.

“I don’t see why you just don’t give her a chance,” Wes says. “She’s super-hot. I would go there.”

“You already have.” Eddie laughs.

Wes looks confused. “Have I?”

“Yes, you have,” I tell him. Wes looks perplexed as I turn to Eddie and continue, “So what’s the name of the place that we are going to?”

“Whiskey Jane’s,” Eddie responds. “It looks like kind of a shithole but those are always the best bars.”

We quickly eat our pizza slices, chug our beers, and walk to the door to head out.

I can feel Savannah staring at me from the register, so I turn and give her a quick wave goodbye before pushing the door open.

Her eyes widen as I acknowledge her, and she gives me an overenthusiastic wave back. Shit .

It’s now dark out and there are lightning bugs floating around in the Tennessee summer.

I smile to myself, thinking of all the times I would catch them in my hands with my parents as a kid and pretend like I had magic.

My mom still lives down the street from me in the house that I grew up in.

I love being near her so I can be there to help since dad passed, but it always feels bittersweet going to my childhood home.

I’m thankful for the memories it still holds, but I also feel like something is completely missing, being there without him.

I feel a thud on my back and turn to see Wes standing to my right. “Let's go, brother,” he says, before heading towards his Jeep.

He knows I was lost in my thoughts and understands how the loss of my father has taken a part of me that I will never recover from.

Since I am an only child, Wes and Eddie have always been like my siblings.

They literally picked me up off the floor after losing my father and sat with me as I wept.

We bust each other's balls and joke around, but at the end of the day we have each other's backs.

Eddie runs past me and yells, “ Shotgun !” Like I even care about having to sit in the back seat. I laugh and hoist myself over the side of the Jeep and fall back into my seat as Wes peels out of the parking lot.

Not even ten minutes later, we pull up to a small bar with muffled music blasting from inside.

There’s a flashing sign hanging from an old pole that says Whiskey Jane’s.

A few of the letters flicker on and off; the place definitely needs some fixing up.

Once Wes parks, we all get out of the Jeep.

Walking up, I can see some of the wood is eroding on the building and the paint is chipping off on the front door.

“This place must have been here for a while,” I say, as Wes takes the lead and pulls open the door.

As soon as he opens it, I notice two things. The first is that there is writing in every color you can think of on all the walls inside of the bar, and the second is that every single person inside is wearing a mask of some sort. Suddenly, everyone looks over at us and cheers.