Page 13 of Notes About Vodka (Happily Ever After Hangover #1)

Chapter Six

VAL

"An espresso martini is like a first date—bold, intoxicating, and with just enough kick to keep you coming back for more."

I can’t shake off the image of Laura zipping past me on her colorful moped the other morning.

She drives a scooter.

Shaking my head, I’m both impressed by her boldness and amused by her playful nature. The memory of her wide smile peeking out from under her helmet and the way she revved her little engine keeps replaying in my mind, and I can’t help but smile every time I think of it.

I keep looking for her in chemistry class ever since that day, but one of us always ends up being late.

However, one day, I have some luck at NYU.

She’s there, right behind my favorite spot, sitting with the same girl she always sits with if she makes it on time.

I move quickly, dropping my backpack in the chair before turning toward her .

“Good morning, I see we are finally here at the same time.”

“It appears so,” she says with a small smile and a sly grin. “Good morning, Valerie.”

A girl next to her elbows Laura in the ribs before coughing. “Oh, and this is my friend Rhea. Rhea, this is Val, the bartender who works at Pianissimo with me.”

“Nice to meet you, Rhea,” I say, giving her a nod.

Rhea grins. “Nice to meet you, too, Val. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” I reply, settling into my seat.

Laura chuckles softly. “Mostly good and don’t believe Rhea, I talked about you once, because she and our other roommate made me.”

Dr. Marsh enters the room, and the chatter dies down. He starts his lecture on free radicals and solving complex chemical equations. Normally, I’d be fully engaged, enjoying the challenge of understanding complex reactions, but today, my focus is fractured.

Every time Laura shifts in her seat or scribbles a note, my attention drifts to her.

It’s frustrating—the material is important, and I know I need to pay attention, but she has this way of pulling my mind away, making it impossible to concentrate fully.

I try to focus. But every time she answers a question or I hear her quickly jotting down notes, I feel drawn to her.

There’s something about her that’s just...different.

As class wraps up, I gather my things and turn to Laura and Rhea. “Hey, would you both like to grab a late breakfast or early lunch at the student center?”

Rhea’s eyes light up. “That sounds great!”

Laura, however, hesitates. “We can’t. We have something to do,” Laura says, glancing away as if avoiding eye contact. Her voice carries a hint of hesitation, and I can't help but feel like there's more she's not saying .

Rhea looks disappointed but doesn’t argue. “Maybe next time then?”

“Yeah, maybe next time,” Laura says, giving me an apologetic smile.

I watch them leave, shaking my head. There’s something they’re not telling me. The way Laura’s eyes avoided mine, the slight tension in her shoulders—it’s like there’s a wall between us that I just can’t break through.

I stare at the spot where Laura and Rhea just were, the sound of their footsteps fading down the hallway. My mind is a whirl of questions and unease.

Something’s off with Laura—she’s usually more engaged, especially at work, but today she seemed distant, like she was trying to hide something .

Something to do , she said. But what could be so important that she’d pass up the chance to hang out?

I replay the conversation in my head, trying to piece together any clues, but all I keep coming back to was that odd look she had in her eyes. It was as if she were somewhere else entirely, even while she was talking to me.

Rhea seemed friendly enough, but even she looked a little off when Laura turned down my invitation.

It was in the way her smile faltered for a split second, her eyes flickering with something that looked like concern or maybe even frustration.

Her body stiffened slightly, as if she wanted to say something but decided against it, masking whatever she felt with a quick laugh and a cheerful response.

It was subtle, just a flicker of concern—or maybe frustration—before she masked it with a quick smile.

I can’t shake the feeling on unease.

As I walk out of the classroom, I pull out my phone and send Laura a quick text

Me: Hey, everything okay? You seemed a bit off today .

I hit send and shove my phone back into my pocket, not really expecting a reply. Laura’s not the type to open up easily, especially about whatever it is that’s bothering her. But I can’t just ignore it. I’m starting to care too much about her to just let it slide.

The student center is bustling when I arrive, the usual mix of students grabbing a bite between classes or huddled in groups, cramming for exams. I weave through the crowd, my thoughts still lingering on Laura.

I spot an empty table in the corner and claim it, setting my backpack down with a sigh.

The din of conversations fill the air, but it only amplifies my racing thoughts.

As I sit there, picking at my food, I keep glancing at my phone, hoping for a reply that doesn’t come.

Minutes stretch into an hour, and I start to wonder if I overstepped by texting her. Maybe I should’ve just given her space. But then again, if something’s wrong, shouldn’t a friend—shouldn’t I—reach out? The uncertainty gnaws at me, each minute making me question my actions more.

I shake my head, frustrated with myself.

I’m usually better at reading people, but Laura.

.. She’s a mystery wrapped in a riddle, and I can’t seem to crack the code.

It’s not just how she acted today—there’s the way she avoids answering personal questions, how she always seems to dodge deeper conversations at work, and the times I’ve caught her staring off into space, lost in her own world.

It's like she's here but somewhere else, too. My gut tells me there’s something big she’s keeping from me, something she’s afraid to reveal.

The cafeteria fills up, students cramming in to get lunch between classes. The noise level rises, a blend of laughter, clattering trays, and overlapping conversations that form a chaotic symphony.

“Hey, Val. Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full,” a familiar voice interrupts my thoughts. I glance up to see Jack, a regular from Pianissimo and fellow student at NYU, balancing a tray loaded with food.

“Of course, go ahead,” I say, motioning to the empty seat across from me. Jack sets his tray down and sits with a heavy sigh.

“Man, it’s crazy in here today. You’d think finals were tomorrow or something,” he says, unwrapping a burrito.

“Yeah, it’s packed,” I reply, managing a small smile.

Jack studies me for a moment, then raises an eyebrow. “You good? You look... I don’t know, distracted.”

I force a laugh. “Just got a lot on my mind. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” he says, taking a bite. “Work? School? Or...” He pauses, a knowing look in his eye. “Something… or someone else?”

I shake my head but can’t help the small smirk that forms. “A little of everything, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack says, clearly not convinced. “Well, whoever or whatever it is, you’ve got that ‘lost in thought’ look like you’re trying to solve some big mystery.”

“Maybe I am,” I admit, picking at my food. “But it’s... complicated.”

“Aren’t they always?” Jack replies with a grin. “But hey, don’t let it eat you up. Sometimes you just gotta let things unfold naturally, you know?”

I nod, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Jack. I’ll keep that in mind.”

For the next few minutes, we chat about work, school, and random topics, Jack’s easygoing nature making the conversation flow effortlessly. He tells me about his work in stocks and bonds, sharing how he’s juggling school while dreaming of starting his own financial startup one day .

“I swear, Val, one day you’re gonna see my name on the front page of the Wall Street Journal,” Jack says, leaning back in his chair with a confident grin.

“Oh, yeah? Will it be because you’ve made billions, or because you’ve lost it all on a risky gamble?” I tease.

“Ha! Definitely the billions,” he shoots back, pointing a fry at me. “But don’t worry, when I’m rich, I’ll still leave you a generous tip at Pianissimo . Maybe even enough to retire early.”

“How generous are we talking?” I ask, smirking. “Because I’ve got expensive tastes.”

“Let’s just say you’ll never have to pour another drink,” Jack says with a laugh. “Although, knowing you, you’d probably get bored sitting around.”

“You’re not wrong,” I admit. “I’d need something to keep me busy.”

“Like solving the mystery of that girl you’ve clearly got on your mind,” Jack says, raising an eyebrow.

I chuckle, shaking my head. “You don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when it’s this obvious,” he replies, grinning.

“Alright, fine,” I admit, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah, I kinda like someone. Happy?”

Jack’s grin widens. “Knew it. So, what’s the deal? Is it serious, or just a crush?”

“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “It’s complicated. She’s...complicated.”

Jack nods knowingly. “Aren’t they all?"

I ask in return, "So, what about you? Got someone? A girl? A guy? A random person?”

Jack laughs, nearly choking on his fry. “Something like that. But hey, we’ve got time. Guess we both just need to get these degrees first, right?”

His banter lightens the mood, and for a moment, I forget the tension weighing on me. But even as I enjoy the moment, a part of me remains tethered to the classroom, to Laura, and to that unreadable expression in her eyes.

I laugh, the tension in my chest loosening slightly, though not disappearing entirely.

What could be bothering her so much that she’s shutting me out when I'm trying to learn more, and why does it feel like whatever it is...it’s something big?