The barkeep is extremely quick, bringing us our drinks within five minutes.
Okay, I think I can pull this off.
“One sec, I’m going to use the bathroom first. I’d hate to wet myself in front of all these people after you beat me,” I taunt.
I take my glass of vodka and start carefully stepping toward the women’s restroom without my crutches.
“Wait, why are you taking your drink with you?” Erik asks.
“Are you an idiot? A woman can never leave her drink unattended in a bar, and I certainly don’t trust either of you to keep an eye on it while I’m gone,” I reply indignantly, glaring at him before I turn my head, my hair swishing over my shoulders.
“Jesus, she’s uptight as fuck,” I can hear Erik mutter as I enter the bathroom.
It’s relatively clean inside, but the cleanliness of the bathroom isn’t my issue.
I quickly pour the vodka down the drain, filling the glass with tap water. It’s clear enough to pass as vodka, and in the low light of the bar room, I doubt they’ll realize I’ve switched it out.
I wait a minute or two and wash my hands for believability. When I exit the bathroom, Erik and Gregory are howling at some joke the bartender made to them. I wish Adas was here, but I’m also so, so happy that he isn’t.
“Hey, sweetheart, we just put down two double-shots of tequila while you were in theredoing your business,” Erik sneers, rolling his eyes at me.
Little does he know, they’re playing right into my plan. No better way to manipulate a stupid man than to question his ego.
“Oh! I really underestimated you two, but you’re not going to beat me,” I reply confidently, taking a long swig of my tap water. It tastes like pennies, but the grimace on my face only sells the act better.
The amount that I drink is close to two full shots, so now they believe I’m neck-and-neck with them.
“Vodka is a girl’s drink anyway. It doesn’t even taste like anything,” Gregory replies with irritation. It’s clear that my perceived drinking ability is already getting to him. I bet he’s a shitty drinker in the first place.
“Yeah? If it’s such a girl’s drink that goes down so easily, you’ll be able to beat me in record time if you drink it instead of tequila,” I reply, silently congratulating my own ingenuity.
Erik orders two double-shots of vodka, glaring at me out of the corner of his eye as he throws down his. Gregory follows suit, and I can see the frustration in his eyes when I take another big gulp.
It doesn’t take long before they both begin to slur their words, laughing at nothing and making unintelligible comments about the soccer game playing on the TV above the bar.
Yet there I sit, still completely stone-cold sober. Of course, part of the performance is behaving like I’m drunk, so I mirror many of their actions, exaggerating them to make them believe that they’ve truly won the game.
Another couple of doubles later, they’re both passed out on the bar as the bartender shouts obscenities at them in Spanish. I realize that I have a limited amount of time before our valet arrives to bring us back to the compound, so I steal a fistful of cash from Erik’s pocket and race across the street on my crutches to the corner store.
The shopkeeper is just as dissatisfied to see my face as he was before, but I don’t fear him. I don’t have time to fear him.
Thanks to Erik, I already know where the feminine hygiene aisle is, and I grab two boxes of pregnancy tests before I rush over to the register to pay.
“Forget something?” the shopkeeper asks in a mocking tone.
For a moment, I’m scared that he thinks I’m being fucked by Gregory and Erik, but I shake the thought loose from my head and just ignore him.
He doesn’t say anything as he hands me a receipt, and I push the receipt back to him. I can’t take that with me.
“Oh, I see,” he says in an oddly sympathetic voice.
I don’t have time to decode the words of the shopkeeper. I shove the test into my bra and nearly fling myself back over to the bar where Gregory and Erik are still being berated by the bartender.
I’ve gotten what I need.
Now I just need to find the time and privacy to take the test.
23