Third Thursday is myfavorite day of the month.
Trivia Night at Big Mic’s Brewery in downtown Clear Lake is a tradition for The Quartet. We’ve only missed one night in the last two years, and Adri is to blame for that. My superstar center forward decided it was a great idea to challenge drunk men to race in five-inch heels. We stupidly agreed and watched her win all evening.
Adri leans across the circular table. Dark, loose curls bounce down her back. A deep brown sweater dress clings to her body, cinched in the middle with a gold belt. Golden, unblemished skin gleams as she scans the room. No matter where we go or what we’re doing, Adri will always be the best-dressed person in the room.
“What are you drinking tonight, Cap?” she asks.
“Water. Long night of studying and work after this.”
I can tell her brain is reciting its usual response to my statement.As usual, Cap.
After meeting with Dr. Martin this afternoon, our third since the semester started, I’ve added another task to my never-ending list. It’ll be nice assisting him by writing donation letters, something I did for yearswhile working for the diabetes camp in my hometown, but my already limited free time is dwindling away.
Adri’s lips pucker, her long lashes batting with disapproval. “Yeah right. One Coors coming up!” She kisses my cheek and sashays to the bar.
“CoorsLight, Adrienne!” I shout at the back of her head, standing to follow her. “If you come back with a Coors, I’ll shred your silk scarves one by one. One by one!”
A hand grips my shoulder and pushes me back into my seat. Jo pats my arm before sliding into her unassigned, assigned trivia seat. Her maroon tracksuit and white sneakers look incredibly cozy.
“She knows, Mally. This is why she picks on you. She loves easy prey, and you’re the easiest of them all.”
I roll my eyes. “Gross. Don’t say it like that.”
Adri’s been my personal nightmare since she joined CLU’s soccer team her freshman year. Within two weeks, I became Adri’s favorite prank target after she put a fake cockroach in my locker. Even though I was a sophomore and her captain. Instead of letting it roll off my back, I chased her with a flip-flop until she collapsed. Now, I’m often on the wrong side of a salt-and-sugar switch, email lists for men with erectile dysfunction, or oatmeal raisin cookies advertised as chocolate chip.
“Wait.” I sit up. “Adri can’t buy alcohol. Does she forget she’s only twenty?”
And I confiscated her fake ID.
“Who needs to be twenty-one when men will do anything for a smile from a pretty girl?” Jo points at the bar behind me.
Surrounded by patrons is Adri, giving them the smile that has convinced men to hand over their credit cards on numerous occasions.
I turn away from the hilarious scene and start to fill out the trivia scoresheet. Shay, Jo, Adri, and I make a solid trivia team. It started outas team bonding, but only we kept it up. We place in the top three every time. Adri knows everything about pop culture and fashion. Shay dominates sports. Jo rules all things medicine and history. I have a knack for random facts, science, and music.
A chair screeches and I look up. “Hey, Shay. How was the walk?”
“It’s a nightmare out there. The sidewalks were packed with everyone heading to the hockey game,” Shay huffs. She’s usually the last to arrive because she spends most evenings at the animal shelter. She sheds her pink coat and looks around. “Where’s Adri?”
“Getting men to buy drinks in the name of feminism,” I say.
“Not surprised.” Shay slides into her seat, her attention landing behind me. “Don’t look now, Mally, but that guy over there is giving you major ‘do-me’ eyes. Jo, isn’t he cute?” Jo gives him a quick once-over, shrugging her shoulder, which encourages Shay to keep talking. “Plus, he looks dateable.”
I toss Shay a glare. I had hoped we put this whole dating thing to bed, but clearly we didn’t.
Adri reappears before I can tell Shay to shove it, accompanied by an Idris Elba lookalike. Her voice is like velvet, thanking the tank of a man when he drops baskets of snacks and a Coors Light onto the table.
I pop a piping-hot tater tot into my mouth as he walks away. “Who was that?”
“No clue.” Adri tucks what I assume is his phone number into her purse before continuing. “Are you seriously glossing over the fact that a man who looks like sex on a stick is staring at you and has been since he walked in?”
It’s easy to find the guy they’re giving me a hard time about. Tall, loose blonde curls, and a nice smile. He’s attractive, but sex on a stick is pushing it.
I give him a polite smile before turning back to my friends. “Isure am.”
“No surprise there,” Jo mutters. “You’re somehow more against dating men than I am, and I’m a lesbian.”
I kick at Jo’s leg beneath the table, and accidentally strike Adri, who retaliates by clobbering Shay with the heel of her boot. We’re so caught up in our whirlwind of kicking and insults, that I’m only vaguely aware of a familiar presence in the room.
