She's already drunk.
"Lukey," she calls out as she drops herself down onto a seat two spots away from me. "Whiskey me."
"Girl, are you cheating on this Bar?" I know Luke is joking with her, but I'm almost positive he's inquiring about how much she has already drunk tonight.
"I don't cheat," August responds. "I'm as loyal as they come. That doesn't mean I can't be a bartender though, right?"
Oh Lord, she has a problem.
"I guess so," Luke responds, keeping his tone friendly.
"Fill me up," she says again.
Maybe I should just mind my own business. I have enough to worry about at the moment. I tend to my phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media, finding a friend request from none other but the infamous August. I can only assume she saw my profile through the mutual friendship of Keegan's page. I posted my condolences before I realized the two of them were an item.
I skip over the request for the time being, not sure how I feel about it. I head over to CNN, finding nothing but the reporters recycling old news.
"Hey," August calls over, holding the glass in her hand. "Are you ignoring me?" She accentuates all of her vowels, seemingly trying not to slur.
"What's that?" I reply.
She smirks before taking a sip from the cocktail straw she stuck in her glass after Luke handed it to her.
"I sent you a friend thingy on Facebook," she says.
"Ah, I wasn't sure if that was you or not." Lie. Knowing my luck, she probably just saw me scrolling through Facebook.
"I saw your name on Keegan's page. I haven't met many Chances," she says, snorting a laugh following her statement. "Get it? I haven't met many channnces?"
"Yeah, I get it." I've never heard that one before.
"Well then, are you going to accept my friendship?"
I shrug. "I guess that all depends."
She swats her hand in the air and puckers her lips before returning to her glass for another long drawn out sip. "Whatever," she says. "Don't be my friend. I don't care." "I never said that," I tell her.
Luke places my burger down in front of me. "Enjoy, man."
"Thanks, bro."
"Mmm, another dry, dark burger. My favorite," August drawls.
I sigh with frustration. This girl is driving me bonkers, and I'm not quite sure why.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to offend your meat," she says, stifling a snorting laugh into the back of her hand.
I take a bite of my burger, staring over to the TV mounted behind the bar, but my peripheral vision confirms that she hasn't taken her eyes off me. "Want me to get you a burger too so you can see it isn't as bad as you think?" I ask, keeping my gaze firm on the TV.
"Sure, Chance. I'll try a dry, dark burger."
Luke overhears the conversation and gives me the thumbs up while punching orders into the register.
Maybe some of the bread will soak up her whiskey.
August grapples her drink and scoots down two seats to sit beside me. "Thank you for yesterday," she says beneath her breath.
She's sincere … I think.
