“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’d have to move there and learn the ropes. I’m just not sure... if I want it.” He looks up at me when he says it and then huffs a laugh. “That’s the first time I’ve ever admitted that to anyone.”
I give him a small, encouraging smile. “Then... what do you want?”
“I don’t know. Part of me wants to do it because it’s easy, but another part of me wants to make something of my own. Like a bed-and-breakfast by the beach, I don’t know. Maybe that’s a dumb idea.” He looks away like he’s embarrassed he said it.
“I think you should do whatever would make you happy.” And that’s no manipulation, just the truth.
“You know what would make me really happy?” he says, and I lean in, hooked on every syllable, because I want him to sayyou, Sloane.“Going to the next bar.” He clinks his glass to mine and we finish our drinks.
Water Street Tavern is a Pembroke-themed bar and home to all the biggest college game tailgates and watch parties. The music is always great and their specialty drink, the Wolverine, is guaranteed to put you on your ass. It’s also home to the Ladies Night dollar drinks. We each get a Wolverine to start it off and a basket of chicken tenders to split.
We sit in a corner booth next to the dance floor. “Never have I everrrr,” Wes starts.
I pick up a nugget and glare at him. “Oh, come on, what are we, freshmen?”
“Had to be in the next room listening to Annica having sex.” He scrunches up his face in disgust as he says it.
I take a drink. “Thanks for putting that memory back into my head. My turn: Never have I ever had to retake a course because I forgot I signed up for it and failed it.”
He raises his cup and takes a gulp. “Hm, never have I ever slept with a professor.”
“Low blow.” I take a sip. “Never have I ever had to have Charlie and Sam carry me home from the bar because I passed out. Take two drinks for that one actually,” I say.
He does. “Never have I ever started talking to someone’s cousin after sleeping with them,” he counters. When I don’t move, he says, “Well, aren’t you going to drink?”
I don’t understand the complete switch of the mood. When did it go from lighthearted to accusatory? “No, I am not. Because I’m not with Asher.” He doesn’t say anything, so I continue. If he wants to get personal, I can get personal. “Never have I ever continued to date someone when I had feelings for someone else.”
We both stare at each other after I say it. My hands shake under the table as I wait for him to drink to it. To prove that I’m not wrong in this. He picks up his drink but pauses.
“Next bar.” He gets up and heads to the door. I follow.
I can tell we’re both feeling the alcohol when we leave Water Street, and there’s one stop left: 157, the closest thing to a nightclub that Pembroke has to offer.
“I hate this place,” Wes says as we walk up to the door.
“Can’t back out now,” I say, handing the “bouncer” my ID. I use that term loosely because it’s just other college kids standing at the door in all black with mini flashlights and earpieces. It’s a college campus, it’s not that deep.
The inside of the club is always dark as can be aside from the flashing strobes and large lit-up fish tanks that span the wall. There’s one bottle service section in the back corner, which is always full, sometimes with our friends.
Wes orders us drinks: a vodka soda for me, a beer for him.There’s no specialty drink here. The only special thing about this place is that it’s seen more blackouts than my hometown in a storm.
Wes takes a seat at the bar, clearly still reeling from our game of Never Have I Ever. But I’m not going to let him off the hook that easily. “Come on, let’s dance!” I say over the music.
“There’s no way!” Wes yells back.
“You owe me a favor. I’m calling it in!” I pull him to his feet as he chugs his drink and drag him to the middle of the dance floor. He’s uncomfortable at first but song after song goes by and I have him jumping up and down, spinning me in circles. The lights are flashing all around us, the crowd moving with the same energy, and it’s euphoric. I live for this feeling. Wes and I are in our own world just belting the words, laughing, pressed up against each other in the tight crowd, until he puts a hand on my face and pulls me in. His mouth crashes against mine and it feels like we’re the only two people in this whole bar.
When Wes pulls away he looks at me with those beautiful green eyes and I think he’s going to tell me to come home with him, and the yes is right on my lips.
“I have to go,” he says over the music, and turns to leave. I catch his wrist.
“Wait, what? You’re going?”
“I’m going home, Sloane, I—” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry.” He pushes through the crowd and out the door, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.
Without him there with me I start to feel hot and annoyed at the people all around me, shoving and spilling drinks. I go out to the back patio for some air. The late-September chill brings a coolrelief to my skin and I feel the sweat on my hairline start to dry. I move to the back corner and find Asher leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette.
I scoff, going up to him. “I knew it. Have you been following us? Was this whole night some kind of setup?”
