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Guess I knew what my social identifier would be for the rest of my life. Amazing how one little picture could define your high school career. Like nothing ever happened during those four years to contradict that one moment in time, that people would suddenly look at you like you sprouted warts and aimed to shun you for the rest of your life.
One. Little. Picture.
I tried not to think about it much these days, but when I spotted the wedding announcement for two of my former classmates, Hippy and Sparky were the first things that came to mind. Hippy, because Hannah Harris was the only girl in school to wear hemp in some form of fashion on a daily basis, and Sparky, because Mitch Flannigan electrocuted himself in shop class so badly that his hair had the Einstein effect for three weeks.
So apparently, I was no better than the rest of them, because I identified them first and foremost by those lovely social tags. Hell, maybe I was looking for something negative to say about them, because it irked me a little that two people who now lived in California would find it necessary to announce their engagement in our little hometown Tribune even though they couldn’t be bothered to come back for the holidays. It was like they were letting those of us left behind know, Hey! We’re better than you!
I shoved the paper aside just as a voice called, “Can I get a draft?” A quick peek over my shoulder showed a guy around my age at the far end of the bar. I had just turned back and pushed off the wooden counter when it clicked. I twisted my head back, eyes squinting – as if I needed to with perfect vision. My heart skittered about my rib cage as my lungs twitched with a quick burst of incoming air.
Holy hell.
There’d only been a few, but the years had been good to him. He was still incredibly sexy, especially since he’d put on a few more pounds of muscle on the part of his body I could actually see, and he seemed more confident – as if that were possible.
“Shane Michaels.”
Great. I couldn’t even say his name without smiling.
His eyes darted north to meet mine. Yeah, north. And there wasn’t a hint of guilt in those savory greens for being south of my border. Usually, catching a guy staring at my ass pissed me off. We certainly had our fair share of customers who spent their evenings checking us out, but with Shane, I hardly seemed to care. Leave it to him to actually make me feel flattered. Or maybe it was because the guy had already seen me in a bikini so many times I couldn’t count.
For some asinine reason, my finger began wagging at him. “You know, I thought for sure when your family moved out of here senior year we’d never see the likes of you again.”
His smile hitched when he finally glanced at my face and figured it out. As I reached down to the shelf hidden within the bar beneath him to grab a fresh glass, he smoothly replied, “Mel Peterson.” He looked me up and down, again lingering in the sweet spots a little longer than he should have. “Wow. I never thought I’d see you again. What the hell are you doing back?”
“Back?” I asked curiously, filling a glass with our most popular draft.
“Didn’t you go off to school? It was all you used to talk about.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Clearing my throat, I quietly added, “But I decided not to go.” Laying the glass on the bar before him, we locked eyes and just kind of stared for a moment.
“Why not?”
Because my life changed with the blink of an eye. My lips twisted, and after a moment, I said, “You first. What have you been up to?”
Given our history, he was well versed with my evasion tactics. I could tell his curiosity had been piqued, but he kindly answered me anyways. Hardly able to contain his smile, he replied, “I’m going to start law school next fall.” A smile grew across my cheeks as well, but for a different reason. If ever there was an argumentative person, Shane was it. “In a few years, yours truly will be gracing the courts with his presence.”
I practically snorted. With a tight smile, I playfully asked, “You do realize people don’t generally like lawyers, right?”
“No,” he corrected, pointing his finger at me, “people don’t like corrupt lawyers or jackasses who prosecute the stupidest shit just to make a few bucks.”
“And that’s not going to be you?”
“Nope.”
Silence ensued as we gazed into each other’s eyes again. Was it just me or had we both avoided doing this most of our friendship? That would probably explain how I’d never noticed the way the green seemed to swirl. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on in his head, but seeing him brought back a lot of memories for me. To a time when I used to date his best friend and every weekend the four of us would get lost somewhere outside of Berryville, Texas – the three of us plus whatever flavor of the week Shane was revisiting. In a town with less than a thousand residents, there were only a few girls he’d even consider putting his arm around, and for some reason, those girls didn’t seem to mind taking turns. He never could seem to commit. Guess it worked out for him though, because I didn’t see him bound to this small town with nowhere better to be.
Softly, he spoke, “You’re a smart girl. What are you still doing here? Working in a bar of all places?”
I probably should have taken offense to that, but I understood where he was coming from. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I should’ve been like him. Freshly graduated and beginning the next chapter in my life, whether it was further education, a new job or even beginning a family. If you had asked me five years ago where I expected to be at this point in time, not a single prediction would’ve landed me here at Sully’s Tavern and Grille. Hell, I wasn’t able to step even one foot out of this town before my world imploded.
“I’m the manager, actually.”
“Kind of young, aren’t you?”
I began pouring a generous shot of tequila for myself, my shift close enough to ending that I felt okay with indulging. “Sully was tired of managers coming and going. Said he wanted a lifer, so he gave me a chance.” I motioned my glass in the air for a silent cheers before downing my shot.
“Well, that’s all good and all, but you used to go on and on about heading out of state for college. What the hell happened to make you a lifer in this town?”
I skipped the lime and salt, and absently scratched at my left temple, my eyes drifting towards Joey, the last patron in the bar, who was getting up to leave. He waved goodnight as he crossed the room and I forced a half smile in recognition.
“Life,” I simply stated. Life slapped me down and gave me a reality check.
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