Page 79 of Dandelions and Smoke

After Ainsley’s exasperated eye roll, Billy gives her a wink and nudges her arm, grinning like he wants to press every one of her buttons. Neither of them notices the way my knee bounces against the bar stool like I’m seconds away from making a run for it. They don’t seem bothered by the lights that feel too loud, the hot air hanging too heavy, or the sharp scrape of chairs dragging across the floor. These things don’t bother them, but right now it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay focused on this conversation.

Pushing him, she turns her attention back to me, dips her chin, and waits for an answer while I try to remember what we were talking about. After hearing another loud woo, I remember.

“I’m a cultural woo. As so nicely put by How I Met Your Mother, ‘I observe the high holidays.’”

“Right…” She presses her lips together. I know that pinched expression of hers means she wants to say more, but she lets it go, starting another line of questioning. “I’m happy to see you, but why are you here and not out to dinner with Chief?”

Turning my head toward the bar, I take a long sip through my straw, buying myself a moment before answering. I glance up and silently ask my good pal Fred the bear, hanging above the local brews stacked on the shelves, to help a girl out.

Fred can’t actually do that, but when Billy responds for me, I send a silent thank you to my furry friend.

“It’s ‘bout time,” Ainsley says once Billy finishes telling her what Chief is up to tonight. “I’m sorry your date got pushed off, but the bright side is now you get to hang with Tris and me.”

“Tris is coming too?” This is news to me. I thought she’d be spending the night with Levi.

“Levi has to cover for Chief tonight, so she’s coming here,” Ainsley explains as Remy places shots in front of her and Billy. “It’s officially a Galentine’s Day celebration.”

With shots raised and brows lifted in my direction from all four of my friends, I raise my seltzer in the air and let out a loud, exaggerated “woo,” inciting half the bar to join in while those of us who know the joke laugh.

Right on time, Tris arrives, joining the chaos as the empty glasses hit the bar. When she gives me the same confused expression at my presence here, brows turned down and head cocked to the side, I decide that tonight is not going to be spent feeling sorry for myself or ruining everyone else’s good mood. Instead, since it may be the last time we’re all together like this for a while, I’m going to make the most of it.

Pushing past the tightening grip of this realization, I hop off the bar stool and make my way to the stage, switching on the karaoke machine as I have many times before when it was only our crew filling the room. Determined to make a few more memories that I can hold on to, I grab the mic. With hollering already coming from Mark and Billy and smiles forming on Tris, Ainsley, and Remy’s faces, I shout, “Who’s ready for some karaoke?” before launching into a comically horrible rendition of “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers.

As expected, my friends join me on stage, happily, aside from Tris, whose arm is practically pulled from its socket as Ainsley drags her up with us. Behind the bar, Remy claps while Mark steals a kiss from her before joining us too. By the time we hit the chorus, everyone in the place is echoing out, “Da-da da da,” and for a while I allow myself to pretend that everything isn’t about to change.

Hours later, well past closing time, I volunteer to save everyone the cost of a cab by driving them home. Mark stays to help Remy clean up, so it’s me, Ainsley, Tris, and Billy driving in the car.

“Ah. Who’s better than you?” a very drunk Billy calls out from the back seat.

Used to my brother asking me the same question all the time, I instinctively respond, “Nobody!” and chuckle when the smile on Billy’s face turns into a look of wonder.

“How’d she know that?” he asks Tris, the streetlights catching in his glassy, unfocused eyes, making them shimmer.

I grin and shake my head as Ainsley and I exchange amused glances in the front seat.

Billy starts to lie on Tris’s shoulder as he yawns but thinks better of it. Leaning forward, he slips between the front seats and rests the side of his head against the top corner of the passenger seat. Closing his eyes, he inhales deeply, muttering something about Ainsley smelling like wildflowers, and within seconds, his breaths become long and even.

“Is he sleeping?” Tris asks in disbelief.

“Yup,” I chuckle, popping the ‘p’.

Sneaking a glance at Ainsley, I see the smile she’s trying to hide.

Tris is the first to be dropped off on the route, but instead of getting out of the car right away when we pull up to her new home, she hesitates.

“Monday marks a year since the accident,” Tris says quietly from the backseat. The gentleness in her voice is loud in a way that only makes sense coming from her, especially when she’s talking about the accident that took Levi’s ex-fiancée. “We have Sunny’s birthday party tomorrow at Tom and Callie’s, but I’d really like to be there for him.”

“Callie already agreed to cover your shift on Monday,” Ainsley replies reassuringly without missing a beat.

Tris’s jaw tightens as she looks away, then turns back to us, her eyes shimmering with unshed emotion. “Thank you,” she murmurs before clearing her throat and collecting herself as if that moment of vulnerability never happened. “Good luck with…” She waves a hand toward Billy. “All of that.”

After what can only be described as a small miracle, we manage to get Billy into the house and into bed. Of course, he attempts, even half asleep and in his drunken stupor, to try to keep Ainsley there, but drunk Billy is no match for us. We leave him with a bottle of water, a Gatorade, and two Advil that he’s definitely going to need in the morning.

The drive to Ainsley’s townhouse is quiet, and when I put the car in park, she doesn’t get out as I expect her to. Instead, she turns toward me in her seat and looks at me with all too knowing eyes.

“Do you want to tell me what else is going on now?”

“Now?” I ask, drawing out the word.