and I laugh.
Wow. This guy. He’s got some balls.
“Listen up because I’m only going to make myself clear once,” I say while Trevor helps a now-lying-down Ava off the stage and to a standing position. “She’s going home with us. End of fucking story.”
“Is that right?”
“That’s right.” I barely get the words out, and the drunk caveman swings one closed fist toward my face. I dodge it with ease. Either he has the reflexes of a tortoise, or he’s had way more to drink than me.
Red flashes behind my eyes, and I try, I really fucking try, to rein in my anger and walk away, but he attempts another punch.
Again, I dodge it, but when I hear Desi shout, “Kick his fucking ass, Luke!” from somewhere behind us, I can’t hold myself back.
One uppercut to the jaw and a hard shove to his chest, and I knock the bastard flat on his ass. He sits there stunned, and when I realize a crowd has started to form around us and no doubt the bar owner is in the process of calling the cops, I take a half-passed-out Ava from Trevor’s hold and swing her over my shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
“You know, buddy, I think all those hours you’re spending in the gym are paying off. You can scrap with the best of ’em,” he says through a laugh. “Not sure you’re going to need all those ninja moves when you’re floating around in fucking space, but good for you, man. Good for you.”
“Hey, Trevor, I appreciate the support, but—” I glance emphatically toward the door “—I’d like to get out of here before the cops arrive and I get kicked out of Columbia. Sound like a plan?”
He grins. “By all means, lead the way.”
Fucking hell, the things I do for my best friend.
November 1st
Ava
I take one glance in my bathroom mirror and groan.
My blond hair has wound itself into a crown of knots and tangles on top of my head. My eyes are bloodshot. My mascara has created some sort of smoky, raccoon-eye effect. And my lipstick is smeared halfway down my chin.
For shame, you really got after it last night.
This is exactly why I try to avoid alcohol. The bitch has never treated me right.
I’m not sure how much alcohol I consumed last night, but I know after the beer I had at Luke’s apartment, I drank at least three strawberry daiquiris at the bar.
Ew. Strawberry. The mere thought of it makes my stomach curdle like days’ old milk. Honestly, the daiquiris are almost always a terrible choice, but they’re a Harry’s Halloween tradition.
I swallow past the nausea threatening to creep up my throat, brush the awful taste out of my mouth with my toothbrush and a whole lot of toothpaste, and take a quick shower to wash the remnants of booze off my body and face.
Once I’m dressed in yoga pants and my coziest cream sweater, I head into the kitchen to make some coffee and find sustenance I can eat without wanting to puke.
But I only get halfway into my food search when my phone chimes with several texts in my group chat with Claire and Desi.
Claire: How ya feeling, honey? You had quite the night.
Desi: Oh yeah. Pretty sure you ran through a full Fantana set.
Huh?
Me: What are you talking about?
Desi: You were the karaoke queen last night. You gave your college performance days a run for their money.
Claire: Personally, I think she’s even better now. All that life experience gives your performance depth.
Me: Guys, what are you talking about?
Desi: I can’t believe you don’t remember doing karaoke.
Claire: At least Luke didn’t have to punch someone out last night LOL.
Desi: That’s because Luke is looking HOT AF these days, and that guy knew not to mess with him.
Me: What guy? There was a guy?
Why don’t I remember any of this?
Again, this is exactly why I do not like drinking.
Shit always ends badly.
The fear of what could’ve been ruined for Luke had I forced him to stand up for me physically jolts me. His job as a pilot. The ongoing interview process with NASA. Holy hell, it could’ve ruined everything he’s worked so hard for!
Instantly, guilt and anxiety form a thick knot in my throat.
Desi: Don’t sweat it, Ava. It was nothing.
Me: It’s not nothing! I can’t believe I put Luke in that position AGAIN. Almost getting him kicked out of Columbia was enough. If things had gotten out of hand, I could’ve made him ineligible to continue on