surgery, which sucks but doesn’t really change my healing time anyway. The question is, what do I do after that? I don’t know.” I sighed thoughtfully. “I think I’m ready for a change.”
Steph nodded her agreement. “Well, now would be a good time.” She grinned.
Chapter 2
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!” I yelled over the noise of the bar crowd.
Steph’s hazel eyes widened as she took in the amount of people crammed into the small space. “It’s Tuesday! I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was gonna be a… a thing!”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming out.” I slumped down in an open chair. “Fuck you. I look like an idiot.”
“Oh, you look badass. You have two broken arms! And all that”—she gestured at the external fixator that protruded from my left arm—“I wouldn’t wanna meet you in a dark alley!”
“Um, I’m exactly who you’d want to meet in a dark alley. What on earth would I do to you?”
“Okay, true story,” she agreed with a nod, pulling up another chair.
My right arm was wrapped in a splint from my fingers to my armpit to protect my elbow. My left arm had metal screws through the skin into the bone from my hand to my forearm. A titanium rod connected the two. It was so awesomely grotesque I had to cover it with a wrap for fear of causing innocent bystanders to pass out. The whole thing was a great excuse to drink. Alone.
“And now you owe this badass a drink to make up for bringing me out to be gawked at by the entire town.”
“Are you gonna sit and sip wine the whole time? ’Cause that’s distinctly not badass,” she said pointedly.
“Yes. Yes I am. Otherwise I’d look even stupider when my drunk ass falls down and breaks my arms even more.”
I had a history of being a huge dork. Hard alcohol made me real drunk, real quick. Typically I did regrettable things, would fall asleep, and then wake up to gaps in my memory. Wine was safer.
Fortunately, here in town, no one cared about IDs, so we got our drinks and sat back to chat while multiple people came up to ask what happened to my arms, how it happened, did it hurt. I’d been out of the loop for a while since I’d been holing myself up at home, watching soap operas and reading pretty much anything with sex in it. I might have been living a bit vicariously. So that night I was just catching up on the latest gossip and hoping it wasn’t about me.
The front door of the pub swung open and in walked Brett, the bane of my existence. I heard his voice carry over the crowd as he greeted friends. British accent. Makes girls stupid. Let’s face it, it had been a huge draw for me. Otherwise he was cute, but a tad on the short side, which made me uncomfortable. As he walked farther into the room, we made eye contact: his wide, mine narrow. Just then I noticed the girl behind him. Cute, red-haired, noticeable baby bump. This was the gossip I’d been worried about, and it was walking straight toward me. A slight hush fell over the crowd as they approached. I plastered a smile to my face and leaned back in my chair.
“Hello, Brett.” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Lissa. How are you? I haven’t seen you since your fall.”
“I’m great,” I said, plastering a sweet smile on my face. “It’s been a super fun few weeks.” I leaned around him to look at his baby mommy. “You must be Alexis. I’m Lissa, an old friend of Brett’s. And this is my friend, Steph. She’ll shake hands for me since it’s a little difficult right now.”
Alexis giggled as she greeted Steph. Brett looked pretty uncomfortable, which made me happy. We girls all chatted a bit, and Alexis actually seemed sweet. Don’t those nice, innocent ones always get knocked up and marry cheating losers? Something to remember. I knew everyone in the bar was trying to eavesdrop, but there was really nothing to hear. It felt like talking to two cardboard figures who wouldn’t leave. At yet another awkward lull in
Steph nodded her agreement. “Well, now would be a good time.” She grinned.
Chapter 2
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!” I yelled over the noise of the bar crowd.
Steph’s hazel eyes widened as she took in the amount of people crammed into the small space. “It’s Tuesday! I’m sorry! I didn’t know it was gonna be a… a thing!”
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming out.” I slumped down in an open chair. “Fuck you. I look like an idiot.”
“Oh, you look badass. You have two broken arms! And all that”—she gestured at the external fixator that protruded from my left arm—“I wouldn’t wanna meet you in a dark alley!”
“Um, I’m exactly who you’d want to meet in a dark alley. What on earth would I do to you?”
“Okay, true story,” she agreed with a nod, pulling up another chair.
My right arm was wrapped in a splint from my fingers to my armpit to protect my elbow. My left arm had metal screws through the skin into the bone from my hand to my forearm. A titanium rod connected the two. It was so awesomely grotesque I had to cover it with a wrap for fear of causing innocent bystanders to pass out. The whole thing was a great excuse to drink. Alone.
“And now you owe this badass a drink to make up for bringing me out to be gawked at by the entire town.”
“Are you gonna sit and sip wine the whole time? ’Cause that’s distinctly not badass,” she said pointedly.
“Yes. Yes I am. Otherwise I’d look even stupider when my drunk ass falls down and breaks my arms even more.”
I had a history of being a huge dork. Hard alcohol made me real drunk, real quick. Typically I did regrettable things, would fall asleep, and then wake up to gaps in my memory. Wine was safer.
Fortunately, here in town, no one cared about IDs, so we got our drinks and sat back to chat while multiple people came up to ask what happened to my arms, how it happened, did it hurt. I’d been out of the loop for a while since I’d been holing myself up at home, watching soap operas and reading pretty much anything with sex in it. I might have been living a bit vicariously. So that night I was just catching up on the latest gossip and hoping it wasn’t about me.
The front door of the pub swung open and in walked Brett, the bane of my existence. I heard his voice carry over the crowd as he greeted friends. British accent. Makes girls stupid. Let’s face it, it had been a huge draw for me. Otherwise he was cute, but a tad on the short side, which made me uncomfortable. As he walked farther into the room, we made eye contact: his wide, mine narrow. Just then I noticed the girl behind him. Cute, red-haired, noticeable baby bump. This was the gossip I’d been worried about, and it was walking straight toward me. A slight hush fell over the crowd as they approached. I plastered a smile to my face and leaned back in my chair.
“Hello, Brett.” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Lissa. How are you? I haven’t seen you since your fall.”
“I’m great,” I said, plastering a sweet smile on my face. “It’s been a super fun few weeks.” I leaned around him to look at his baby mommy. “You must be Alexis. I’m Lissa, an old friend of Brett’s. And this is my friend, Steph. She’ll shake hands for me since it’s a little difficult right now.”
Alexis giggled as she greeted Steph. Brett looked pretty uncomfortable, which made me happy. We girls all chatted a bit, and Alexis actually seemed sweet. Don’t those nice, innocent ones always get knocked up and marry cheating losers? Something to remember. I knew everyone in the bar was trying to eavesdrop, but there was really nothing to hear. It felt like talking to two cardboard figures who wouldn’t leave. At yet another awkward lull in
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