I was surprised by how much fun I had, even stone-cold sober. The music were songs I actually liked, and Kelly forced me onto the dance floor, ignoring as Maru muttered something about troublesome women and needing to go smoke a cigarette.
“You know,” Kelly shouted over the music. “You’re not bad, Freckles.”
“Thanks, Ponytail.”
We grinned at each other, moving in time with the beat. It was a little awkward at first. I wasn’t sure how to act, how to be. I didn’t have much experience being a friend. I could be a docile girlfriend, a collectable that reflected the shine of her lover’s the way I had been with Alexander. I could be a formidable student for any professor, sitting in the third row, a little to the left. I could be a foil for my aunt, someone who could take care of her, be there for her, even spy for her. I could even be an obedient assistant who threw out fast food wrappers in the back of crappy cars and who could pay attention to clues and try to learn from my boss.
But friend?
That was a huge time commitment, and I wasn’t sure I could promise that, which was stupid because I had nothing but time.
Helen was behind the bar, her silky black hair tied into a perfect ponytail. She was dressed conservatively—a long-sleeved shirt and low-cut jeans. She had a natural beauty—not to mention natural curves—that men couldn’t help but be drawn to.
“You know Helen?” Kelly asked during our fourth consecutive dance. “She’s part of the Hammond family, one of the founding families. Rich as sin. She lives on the Sakura Cliffs, the ones that overlook the ocean. I still don’t understand why she’s working at a bar and a cafe, but.” She shrugged. “It’s kind of nice to know she doesn’t buy into the opulence she comes from.”
“Are you her friend?” I asked.
“Friend?” She snorted. “No way.”
“Why not?”
“Helen Hammond doesn’t make friends,” Kelly said. “At least, her family won’t let her.”
I frowned. “That’s unfortunate for her.”
“I guess.” She didn’t sound like she cared too much.
I glanced back at our table. My aunt was leaning forward, across from George himself, cleavage spilling out of her low-cut blouse, as she clutched her shot glass tightly in her manicured fingers. There was a determined wrinkle over her nose, amber eyes glimmering with a challenge.
“I should probably get back before –”
“Oh, yeah.” Kelly nodded. “That looks intense.”
We made our way off the dance floor and back to the table as both my aunt and George downed a shot. Judging by the empty glasses on the table, they must have been on their sixth one. The fact that they were both standing amazed me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Agatha was some kind of secret witch with magic powers. I didn’t care how used to drinking I might have been, I highly doubted I’d be able to stay standing after six shots.
At the very least, I’d be throwing up.
“I think…I think…”
“The captain beat him!” Nathan’s familiar voice exclaimed. “See, Simon? I knew she’d beat him. You owe me thirty bucks. Pay up, chump.”
“You bet against me, brat? You’re officially on bike duty come summer,” Agatha snapped. Somehow, her words weren’t particularly slurred, and she still stood upright compared to George, hunched over with his head tucked under the table.
“Why is it spinning in here?” he asked.
At that moment, Maru returned, smelling of smoke and cologne. He took one look at George and walked back outside.
“What’s this? A gathering of Cherry Blossom Bay’s finest?” a familiar voice boomed at the foot of the table. Suddenly, Brody and Sam materialized from seemingly nowhere, in their matching bright orange tracksuits and mullets. “Wait a minute…we’re missing someone. Where's Kitsune?”
“Kitsune?” George asked, resting his head on the table. “You know he never comes to these things.”
“Yes, but I’m here.” Brody placed his hand over his bare collarbone. “We’ve constantly challenged each other to see who is the best, and if he’s not here, how am I supposed to break his record?”
“Hello, Piper!” Sam chirped. “Do you mind if I sit beside you? I’m happy to buy you a drink.”
“Sure.” I scooted over so he could fit into the crammed booth.
“Don’t move,” George groaned. “I’m going to throw up.”
“Next time, you must bring him, Piper,” Brody said, turning to look at me. His hands rested on his hips, black bangs in his face.
“What makes you think I have any sway over him?” I asked, suddenly uncomfortable with the attention everyone at the table gave me.
“Only the fact that his car is cleaner, his office is organized, and he’s had an increase in clients the last month that he hasn’t turned away,” Brody said as he began to list the reasons on his fingers. “You’re a good influence on him. Ah, the power of youth. Not even Kitsune is unbreakable, you know.”
“You guys are crazy,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “Kitsune can’t exactly tell me no. All I’m doing is picking up trash.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Piper,” Nathan said from my other side.
“Kitsune’s car is clean?” Agatha asked. “You never told me that.”
“What difference does it make?” I asked, throwing my arms out. I almost knocked over Simon’s craft beer and he glared at me through dark slits.
I considered knocking it over next time. That guy was a jerk.
“It makes a difference,” Agatha said. “If he’s moping, his world is moping with him. That means chaos.”
“I don’t feel so good,” George muttered.
“Ew.” Simon scooted over, bumping into my aunt.
Agatha might not have slurred her words, but she didn’t have the balance she would have if she wasn’t drunk. She practically fell out of the booth and into Kelly, who had grabbed herself some strawberry daiquiri drink and me an ice water.
“You brat, Simon Tamanashi!” she exclaimed. “Two months of traffic duty with quotas!”
“I’m gonna—” George scooted my way, and Kelly and I stumbled out of the booth to give him space.
“Do you think we should go after him?” I asked, following his retreating form as he maneuvered through the crowd toward the restrooms.
“He’s a grown man,” Kelly said. “Let him handle himself. He needs to be more responsible, anyway.” She flicked her ponytail and rolled her eyes. “Anyway. I want to talk about other things. Have you been on any dates since you got here? I want to know. I’ll tell you who to stay away from, who to go for. Obviously, Nathan and Simon are big nos.”
“Hey!” Nathan said. “What gives?”
“We want men, Whiskers,” she said. “Not boys with peach fuzz where hair should be.”
“Hmm, I suppose this means you’re completely free from all body hair?” Simon asked, raising a brow.
“What?” Kelly turned beat red. “How is that any of your business?”
“You seem to think that as men, we can choose how we grow hair,” he said. “Using your logic, we can apply it to the female form, and since the expectation is very opposite, I expect you can remove your hair and still feel extremely soft to touch. Am I correct?”
“You know what? I think I’m going to go to the restroom,” I said, sliding off the edge of the booth.
The truth was, Simon had a point, and I didn’t want to be thrown in the middle of that particular battle, especially when she started on about my love life. Technically, I had no love life. The only person I dated before was Alexander, and that was when we were in college, away from this small town. He was the reason I came back anyway, and that he was here too pissed me off more than it should. If I could avoid him in any way possible, even just talking about him, I would be grateful for the reprieve.
Now that I wasn’t swept up in the crowd I came with, I took in the bar. The warm pendant lights suspended from the exposed wooden beams overhead, welcoming patrons who stepped through the wooden double doors. The interior was adorned with vintage posters of iconic musicians, giving the place a touch of musical nostalgia.
The main area boasted a polished wooden dance floor, where locals came together to enjoy the lively beats of the live bands that performed on selected evenings, such as tonight. Even now, I had to be careful as I made my way through the crowd, trying not to bump into the lively bodies as the sang, drank, and danced. The stage, adorned with fairy lights and hanging vines, provided the perfect backdrop for musicians to showcase their talent and charm the crowd with a mix of rock, pop, and country melodies.
To the left of the dance floor, a long, polished bar stretched out, inviting patrons to sit on comfortable bar stools. The bar was crafted from reclaimed wood, showcasing a variety of carefully arranged spirits and a colorful array of cocktail ingredients. The bartenders all seemed friendly and skilled, always ready to craft signature drinks and share local tales with a genuine smile. Especially Helen.
In the corner, there was a cozy seating area with plush sofas and armchairs, where patrons can unwind and engage in lively conversations with friends or strike up conversations with fellow bar-goers and not get drowned out by the music. The walls were adorned with local artwork and snapshots of memorable nights, tugging at my heartstrings. It was clear what type of community Cherry Blossom Bay was, and I wanted to be part of it more than I initially realized.
The Pour House featured an impressive selection of craft beers and locally sourced wines, perfect for those seeking to indulge in the flavors of the region. For non-drinkers and designated drivers, the bar also offered an array of handcrafted mocktails and refreshing fruit-infused beverages, which I appreciated and considered when I got back from my break.
I passed a bulletin board where I caught sight of papers advertising friendly dart tournaments and a trivia night on the weeknights, bringing the community together for a bit of friendly competition and camaraderie.
It wasn’t skeazy, like the campus pub my college friends and I used to frequent, and wasn’t obnoxiously pulsating like a nightclub.
It was perfect.
“...you doing here?”
I frowned, ducking into the small hallway that would lead me to the restrooms. If I were to go any further, I would stumble upon a conversation between a man—George. It sounded like George.
And more than that, he didn’t sound drunk at all.
I pressed myself against the wall, trying not to knock down a framed picture and reveal I was there.
I didn’t want to interrupt. I knew I should go somewhere else, but…
“I came by to see you –”
A woman. Soft-spoken. A touch of desperation.
“Why? You chose to leave, to pursue your dream in the city. You left everyone behind, and now, I’m the one taking care of it all.”
“I…George, I wanted to ask —”
“For more? That’s a joke, Victoria. Let me guess: you burned through the money I sent you last month already?”
“I brought pictures, painting,” she said quickly. “I thought I could sell them –”
“You don’t get to be here,” he said firmly. “I can’t stop you from being in CB, but not in here. You know that. You need to leave. My boss is here.”
“I’m sorry, I just wanted to invite –”
“I don’t care.”
I never thought George could be so cold.
Maybe this wasn’t George at all.
A heavy silence fell between the two of them.
“I’ll go now,” she said finally. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.” Another pause. “You were always my favorite, Georgie.”
And then there were footsteps.
I scrambled off the wall, trying to figure out something to do before I was caught, but there was nowhere for me to hide.