I know better. One look at Gracie reminds me how easy it is to feel alone in a room full of people.
Gracie
Present
“So,” Beck says, glancing at the green beer clenched in my hand. “One-night stand, huh?”
“Correct.” I lift my chin, daring him to judge me. There was a time, when we were teenagers, when we fought a lot about my decisions. Old habits die hard.
“With a stranger,” he adds, like he needs to confirm.
“Preferably.”
“On St. Patrick’s Day.”
“The luckiest day of the year,” I say solemnly.
He hums, considering. “Bold strategy.”
“What?” I narrow my eyes. “You don’t think I can pull?”
Beck’s mouth twitches. “Oh, I think you can pull. I just think you’re aiming to emotionally black out instead of actually have fun.”
There it is.
“I am having fun,” I say immediately.
He doesn’t argue. Just looks at my drink. At my death grip on the glass. “You’re strangling that beer like it owes you money.”
“I’m fine,” I insist. “I’m festive. Look.” I gesture at my cheek. “Clover.”
He squints. “It’s a little crooked.”
“It’s abstract.”
“You always say that when something’s wrong.”
“That’s a lie.”
“You said it when you tried to cut your own bangs sophomore year.”
“That was a calculated risk.”
“It ended with bobby pins for six weeks.”
I point at him. “I looked edgy.”
“You looked like you lost a fight with a hedge trimmer.”
Kirsten chokes on her drink. Trish doesn’t even try to hide her grin.
I lean closer to Beck, lowering my voice. “Careful. You’re killing my confidence.”
“Am I?” he asks mildly. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re about two sentences away from announcing your plan to the entire bar like a public service announcement.”
“I would never.”
Right on cue, a guy in a green fedora stumbles past, slurring, “You ladies havin’ fun tonight?”
