It Happens All the Time

She smiled, a coy, flirtatious thing. “And what if I am?”

“Then I say we should give him a show.” I gulped down almost the entire contents of my glass, grabbed Kylie by the hand, and pulled her to the dance floor. The DJ had just started playing a slow song, Foreigner’s “Waiting for a Girl Like You,” so I held her close, slipping one of my legs in between her thighs, and pressing my cheek against the side of her head. I moved her with ease, running my hand up and down her delicate back, dangerously close to splaying my fingers on top of her ass. I wondered what Mason would have said if he’d been there, if he’d accuse me of behaving the same way I had with Amber at the party. But I told myself that that didn’t matter. Besides, Kylie had been the one to approach me; in fact, I was doing her a favor. I just wanted to dance, to lose myself in a feeling other than the constant state of panic I’d been in. Like Whitney, this woman was an opiate in human form—immediately soothing, a perfect, temporary reprieve.

“Is he watching?” I murmured in Kylie’s ear. She smelled like something sweet; coconut, maybe. And some kind of rum.

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding a little out of breath. “Just keep dancing.”

I felt her push her hips against mine, and I couldn’t help but think about Amber then, how she and I had danced, how it felt to hold her. How she’d screamed when I walked into her room the next day. My heart banged around inside my chest, and my blood roared in my ears. “Come on,” I said to Kylie now, as the song ended. I guided her toward the back of the bar, near the bathrooms.

“Where are we going?” she asked, still laughing. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark eyes were glossy and pupils dilated, a clear sign, I knew, that she was drunk.

“Just come on,” I said, pushing her up against the wall next to the men’s bathroom. It was a dark hallway, but by no means private. I put my hands on the sides of her head and leaned down to kiss her. She answered by slipping her tongue in my mouth, and I instantly realized that she was a smoker, something I normally couldn’t stomach. But even that didn’t stop me.

When I finally pulled back and opened my eyes, I caught a glimpse of another couple further down the hall, maybe about fifteen feet away. They were in shadow, but I could tell that instead of the guy pushing the girl up against the wall, it was the other way around. With my head turned, Kylie began kissing my neck, which somehow felt more like an annoyance than a turn-on, and I squinted at the other couple, thinking that the silhouette of the girl’s body seemed familiar. And then it struck me.

“Amber?” I said, not meaning to speak as loudly as I did, but the girl down the hall stopped what she was doing as I spoke, and then looked at me. The light from the one fixture between us caught in her eyes, and I knew I was right. She looked different, thinner than the last time I’d seen her, with a harshly angled haircut and heavy makeup.

“Who’s that?” Kylie asked, her gaze following mine.

I didn’t answer; instead, I dropped my hands from her body and took a few steps toward Amber and the stranger she was with.

“Screw you then,” Kylie said with disdain, and she spun around and headed back to the main part of the bar. I didn’t care that I’d offended her. All I cared about was talking to Amber.

“Tyler . . . don’t,” Amber said. She stumbled backward, away from the guy, who, now that I could see him more clearly, I realized had to be in his late forties. He had a receding hairline, bags of flesh under his eyes, and a noticeable paunch hanging over his belt. What the hell was she doing in a dark hallway, making out with a guy like that?

“Please,” I said. “I just want to talk.” I couldn’t believe I had to beg just to speak with my best friend. I couldn’t believe it had been three months since I’d last seen her.

She stared at me, eyes wide, and shook her head. The guy she was with swung his gaze back and forth between us. “Doesn’t look like the lady wants to talk to you,” he said, puffing out his chest.

Ignoring him, I kept my eyes on Amber. “I’ve been worried about you,” I said, stopping when I was about three feet away from her.

“Hey,” the guy said, stepping in between Amber and me. He swayed a bit on his feet, and I knew he was drunk. “I said, the lady doesn’t want to talk.”

“Back off,” I said, using one arm to push him out of my way. “This isn’t your business.”

Amber took another step back, her eyes darting around, looking behind where she stood, and then over my shoulder, as though searching for escape.

“I’m making it my business,” the guy said, and then he lunged at me, his right arm swinging. The punch missed, but the impact of his body hitting mine was enough for me to lose my balance. We tumbled to the floor, our limbs entangled. At this point, Amber leapt over us, and as I struggled to push the other guy off of me and get back on my feet, I saw her dart back into the main part of the bar and disappear.

“Shit,” I muttered, wondering if I should run after her, but then decided I’d better not.

“Thanks for fucking that up for me, asshole,” the guy said as he, too, managed to get back on his feet.

“You should stick to hitting on women your own age,” I said bitterly, taking in the man’s puffy face and the broken red capillaries around his nose, sure signs of a heavy drinker.

“That’s where you’re wrong, buddy,” the guy said. “She picked up me. Pulled me onto the dance floor and then dragged me back here, all hot and heavy. Probably could have gotten a blow job if you hadn’t butted in.”

“Shut up,” I said, feeling my fingers curl into fists at my sides.

“Or what?” the guy challenged me, and I almost let my anger take over. I almost let myself hit him. But then I thought about Amber, what she had been doing in a hallway with a stranger, and I felt sick. I knew that the best and safest thing I could do was leave.

Without another word, I charged my way through the crowd, and less than a minute later, I was in my truck, chewing on a wad of spearmint gum to mask the beer. I revved the engine, pulled out of my parking spot, and tried not to speed as I took a left on Railroad Avenue.