Ivy sent a picture, and I bring the phone close to my face to make it all out. It’s a picture of Avery. She’s laughing with a drink in her hand as they sit on the stool of some bar they’re at.
A follow-up text comes next.
Ivy
We may need a ride. Our last Uber driver was creepy.
I curse under my breath.
How drunk is she?
Ivy
Plastered. She’s going to feel it tomorrow.
Me
And you?
Ivy
Not as bad as her.
Me
Do you want me to bring Dustin?
Ivy
No! She’s going on and on about you. Dustin can’t hear it.
I roll my neck.
Which bar are you at?
She rattles off an address, and I stand up and pocket my phone. Is she really so stressed that she needed to get drunk?The last time I saw her drunk was at Dustin’s party, and she looked like she was trying to escape then.
My guts twist inside me as I pluck up my car keys and quietly sneak out of the apartment.
As I pull up to the bar, I take in the surroundings. The bar is a hole in the wall, a real fixer-upper, and there’s a whole host of people smoking outside. I can smell the cigarette smoke from here.
I note that none of them are our age, which isn’t surprising, considering the bar is downtown. How did they find this place? Did they play Eenie Meenie Miney Mo in a Google search? However they found it, it probably had everything to do with the acceptance of fake IDs. All my friends have them, including myself, so it’s not surprising that Avery and Ivy have some.
I climb out of my car and hold my breath as I weed through the puffs of cigarette smoke. As soon as I’m inside, I scan my surroundings. For a weeknight, there are a lot of people here. The place smells like grease and beer, and there’s a slight stench of body odor.
On my scan of the room, my eyes land on Ivy, who is emerging from the bathroom. I head to her immediately, and she smiles once she spots me.
“You made it!”
“You’re drunk,” I state as she sways. Heels probably weren’t the best idea if she had planned on getting drunk tonight. I catch her by the arm before she has a chance to fall over.
“A little drunker than when I texted you, yes. What are you? My dad?”
I chuckle under my breath. “No, but Dustin would kill me if you got hurt and I did nothing to prevent it. Like, ask you to take off the damn heels.”
“Ew, I’m not putting my feet on this floor.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust. She leans in closer to me and whispers, “Does Dustin know you’re here?”
I shake my head. “His room was dark when I left. He’s asleep.”
