An hour in, and I’m quite buzzed. For the first time in averylong time, I feel free, in complete bliss. A couple guys have asked me to dance, and I hesitated to obliged them. They’re seemed nice, and fairly good looking, but no one’s done it for me.That’s because no one’s him.
I’m currently dancing with a very handsy man, whose breathe is quite unpleasant. I’ve forgotten his name by now, and I honestly don’t really care. There is an instant regret.
“You seem like a keeper, baby.” Ugh, great. My most hated nickname. I can feel his hands traveling around my thighs, skimming across my pelvis. When he gets a little too close to the apex of my thighs for comfort, I start looking for someone to save me, extricating myself from his sweaty hands as I look. This is not how I wanted this.
Thankfully, Reva comes to my rescue. “Hey, asshole. If a woman’s pulling away from you, there’s a reason.” She shoves him off me, and he stumbles back. Anger splashes across his face, and I step towards him.
“Back off before you regret pissing me off.” That seems to do the trick because he just flips me off and turns away. I don’t give him a second thought, walking back to our table, Reva in tow. Sparky’s on the phone again, avoiding eye contact with me. Jesus, something crawled up his ass tonight.
Another hour in, and I manage to sip on my pale ale. Not my drink of choice, but I’d rather not be throwing up when they call my name for karaoke. I have a song in my mind that I’ve been saving for a while. Brittany’s following a drunk Sam, who I hope has been drinking water. Reva plops back down at the table.
“Where have you been?” I question her. She’s been gone for quite a bit.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she smirks as she sips on her drink.
I roll my eyes while simultaneously poking her hand. “You were sucking face with someone, weren’t you?”
Her silence is the only answer I need.
“You shady lady! Good for you.” I sip on my drink, looking around.
Reva notices. “I don’t think he’s here, love.”
Reva’s bluntness yanks me out of my mind. “Who?”
“The person you’re still pining for.”
“Jesus, who uses the word pining?” I make a face at her outdated choice of words. Still, maybe she’s right. Maybe Iaman idiot for thinking I could get over him so quickly.
Reva doesn’t let up. “Stop running in the opposite direction, Tessa. He was the first person who made you smile like an imbecile and put some color on those cheeks. Run to him.” Before I can say a word, we’re interrupted by the karaoke emcee.
“Alright, we have a brave soul who wants slow things down. Grab a partner and let’s show some love for Tessa Bjorn!” My name echoes through the bar. I take a gulp of my drink and make my way to the stage.
As I grab hold of the mic, the emcee continues his introduction. “This one is for the ones who want a second chance. Here’sThe Strangersby Ingrid Andress.”
Couples start to sway with the melody as I search the crowd, most likely in vain. Suddenly, I can barely suck in enough air to start the song. There, tucked away in the back corner, is Jackson.
He’s here and he’s not alone, but he’s here. A swell of joyful tears threaten to spill over. I hope he hears me.
And you play the stranger
I'll play the girl at the bar
The same place where this all got started
Sometimes I wish I didn't know you all
So we could do it all over
And fall all over each other again
Music soothes the hurt and wounds of my heart like an escape from reality. All I can do is find his eyes, hoping he’ll fight for me one more time. Maybe this time, I’ll say yes. The notes flow through the hall with my voice guiding the way. I’d hoped he’d hear what I’m trying so hard to say. A way to start apologizing for my words. The music fades and a thunderous applause stirs me from my trance. I give a small bow and exit the stage, only to be pulled onto the dance floor by hands I don’t recognize.
“I think you still owe me a dance, baby.” The man from the dance floor slings me into the crowd, pressing his hips into me. For a man who’s probably been drinking for hours, he definitely has a strong grip.
“I figured you took the hint,” I snarl back.
Apparently, he didn’t. “You can’t tell me you don’t want to dance with me. Baby, I can make your world look like heaven.” Seriously, where’s he getting his pick-up lines?