"I didn't say you had to get trashed. I know you're past that. I just meant you haven't hung out with any of us in almost a year. We miss you, man." He slapped me on the back and I smiled. "Come on, it will be like your coming-out party. Your quincea?era." He did a few salsa steps. I laughed. "What do you say? There's a whole world out there, sport."
"What the hell? Okay." I had been nervous about going out, about being around the team, around alcohol. But maybe the doc was right. I had to live in the world at some point.
"Good deal. Go home and get yourself dolled up in your party dress and meet us there at nine."
I chuckled. "See you then."
**********
The team had decided to go a bar in the financial district of San Francisco, decorated to mimic a pirate ship with old wooden barrels on the walls and ceilings. Jameson had texted to let me know the guys had a table on the mezzanine level. I made my way through the crowded bar and the guys all stood and gave me a round of cheers as I took a seat. I motioned for them all to sit down, embarrassed. "Okay, okay," I said as they laughed. "Very funny." Mike, a team running back grabbed my shoulder and shook me.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," he said and I couldn't help laughing. It was either that or cry and I figured I'd cried enough for one lifetime. I tried my best to tamp down my anxiety, tune out the overly loud, drunken noise all around me, ignore the smell of alcohol, and just focus on my buddies.
We talked and laughed for a while, and I was genuinely having a decent time, but someone ordered a Jack and Coke.
That had been Holden's drink.
Melancholy assaulted me, and my mood shifted. Suddenly, I was hyper aware that Holden wasn't there, and he never would be. I kept a smile plastered on my face anyway. But I couldn't maintain it once Taylor arrived, sitting down on Jameson's lap and whispering something in his ear. For the next ten minutes, she alternated between making out with him and shooting me glances that looked half suspicious and half mocking. I didn't need any of it—this. This had been Holden's downfall or at least part of it. I didn't think anyone noticed that I'd grown very quiet. "Hey, I'm gonna go use the bathroom. I'll be back," I said to no one in particular, standing up and walking toward the stairs.
I used the bathroom and then headed to the bar, not ready to return upstairs yet to the boisterous laughter of the team, to all the girls milling around the table, some taking pictures, some even filming, looks of desperation on their faces, hoping one of the team members would notice them, even if it was only for a night. When the busy bartender pointed to me, I ordered a water. He scowled and I gave him an apologetic look, sticking a ten in his tip jar even though I should have told him to fuck off. People get thirsty.
"You get stuck as designated driver, too?"
I looked to my right and there was a pretty girl with dark hair and red lipstick standing next to me, apparently waiting for her drink order. In the dim light of the bar, her hair looked almost black and it made me think of Lily. Enough. Stop chasing ghosts, Ryan. I nodded at the girl and looked back to the bartender who was serving some people at the other end of the bar.
"I'd forgotten how obnoxious drunk people are when you're not drinking," she said, rolling her eyes and giving me a small smile. When I didn't say anything, she looked embarrassed. "And if I have to hear one more bad pirate joke . . ."
I furrowed my brows. "Pirate joke?" I couldn't help asking.
She used her finger to wave it around the room. Ah, the pirate theme. "Fetch me a flagon of ale, wench!" She said this in a deep voice, apparently mimicking the person who had requested she make a bar run. "I mean, seriously, right?" She bit at her lip.
I laughed. She really was pretty.
The bartender set my water in front of me, and before I could even thank him, he was back down the bar, pointing at another customer. I turned toward the girl, raising my water glass. "Good luck." Stupid thing to say.
But she gave me a big smile anyway. "You too."
I walked back toward the stairs, but couldn't bring myself to climb them. Suddenly this was the very last place I wanted to be. But it would be rude to just leave without saying goodbye. I'd take a breather outside for a little bit, and then I'd go back in and say my farewells. Make it look like everything was fine and dandy. Setting my water glass down on a table, I exited the bar and stood to the side of the door in the dim light of the awning, my hands in my pockets, wondering why I hadn't guessed it would be this bad. This had never been my scene. Why would I be good at it now? I watched a group of girls giggling as they pushed an obviously drunk friend wearing a white dress and veil with plastic penises pinned all over it into a limo. The sign stuck on her ass read, "I like being spanked."
The doors to the bar opened and someone exited, coming to stand next to me. We both looked at each other at the same time, her eyes widening, her expression one of growing embarrassment. It was the girl I'd talked to for a minute at the bar. "I did not follow you out here, I swear."
I laughed. "Sure you didn't."
She rolled her eyes. "No, really, I didn't. But since you're here, do you have a cigarette?"