“Who are you bringing as a date?” Sunday asks her, and Judd drops a container of limes hard on the counter, earning dirty looks from all of us in the practically empty Hollow. Saturday afternoons are usually dead; people come in for lunch, but it’s mostly regulars or randoms that come in off the street for food.
The Hillcats sit at the end of the bar, picking at lunch and chatting about God knows what—until the HSAs come up. The Harbor Sports Awards are for athletes within the city, spanning from professional to semi-professional, as well as college teams, and more community outreach.
It’s usually a stuffy event that Boone caters, but it’s too many bodies and too much chaos for me to handle, so I stay and take care of the bar. We’ve had a system for the last few years, and it works perfectly.
“Probably Dad,” Cosy says with a smile. “He loves those dinners.”
“Oh my god, please bring him. After last year, we need that comedic relief,” Sunday gasps, “when he and Kaia got so drunk they ended up in the fountain and nearly got arrested—but he flirted his way out of it because the museum security guard was going through menopauseanda divorce!”
“I heard about Josephine for weeks,” Cosy gags.
“Think of the breakup drama if she still works there.” Sunday giggles, shoving some fries in her mouth. “You have to.”
“Alright, alright,” Cosy concedes. “Who are you bringing, Reaper?” she asks Rhea, who finally looks up from her phone—like she’s just noticed the food in front of her.
“No one,” she says and lifts the bun of her burger out of habit and finding it without tomatoes. “It’s always a hassle, and guys always want something out of it…” Her eyes lift to me, and her thoughts are so loud I can practically hear her thinking as she smiles. “Hey, Brighton?”
“No.” I set down a beer and look away before she can see the amusement in my eyes.
“You didn’t even wait for me to ask the question,” Rhea pouts.
Don’t.
“If it involves dancing, suits, noise, music, or people,” I list, “no.”
“Be my date,” Rhea says.
“No.”
“Just as friends!” she argues. “You’re the only man in Harbor tall enough!”
“No.” I fight back and continue to serve some of the people sitting around the bar with a polite smile.
“Boooo,” Sunday cups her mouth and yells.
I give her a dirty look, and she leans back on her stool to cross her arms.
“You’d really leave a girl dateless? I thought we were friends now.” Rhea pokes the bear because she likes the sound it makes when it growls, but I shake my head no again.
“Boone goes every year,” Cosy quickly adds, and I grumble under my breath as I make my way down the bar to where they sit.
“Heworksthe event. That’s different from attending,” I remind her and lean on the bar with both hands to stare the three of them down.
“I know you own a suit,” Sunday narrows her eyes at me.
“Doesn’t mean I want to wear it, Day,” I clip, curling my fingers against the counter. I give her a serious look, and her shoulders roll forward in defeat as Rhea huffs.
“It’s okay. It was a long shot. Forget I asked,” Rhea says. “I have physio in twenty, I’ll see you guys at practice later?” She looks at the girls once, then disappears through the bar.
“She goes alone, you know,” Sunday says later that night, leaning over the bar. She’s sandwiched between two people trying to talk while waiting for me to make her a tray of fruity drinks for a bachelorette party.
“What?” I look up at her as I palm two shakers.
“The HSAs, every year her family tells her that they’re going to be there and they don’t show up,” Sunday says.
“So then she’s used to it,” I brush off Sunday, trying to ignore the fact that maybe I feel a little bad for Rhea.
“Yeah, maybe. But she shouldn’t have to be,” she argues, and the girl next to her is starting to get impatient with the interruption.
