The Dream - Whitney Dineen Page 0,12

a nursing home—which is much better than being the nurse’s assistant I was before getting my bachelor’s degree—but still, I do the same stuff they do when we’re short-staffed, like we are now. On top of that, I wait tables at night, just like my mom did. The weight of my failure immobilizes me.

If not for Sammy grabbing my arm and dragging me along next to her, I might have crumpled to the ground in a heap of self-pity.

The inside of the bar is just as impressive as the outside would have you believe. It’s all sleek and modern. A giant contrast to the establishments that used to define our town. The bar itself is a shiny, black marble slab with an impressive assortment of liquor bottles spotlighted behind it. The stools are chrome and streamlined with white leather seats. The exception to the modern vibe is the wall opposite the bar. It’s exposed red brick which adds an urban feel of chicness. Scattered throughout are high tables surrounded by young, hip patrons. It’s something I’d expect in Chicago, not Creek Water.

Sammy nudges me, “Quit gawping and go in.”

“Where do you want to sit?” I ask, as I make my way to an empty table in the corner.

“I want to sit at the bar, but it looks like you’ve decided against that idea.”

“I’m not ready for the bar quite yet.” I exhale deeply.

As soon as we’re situated, a young waitress comes over. “Hey all, what can I get for ya?”

I pick up the stark white sheet in front of me and see a bunch of drink names I’ve never heard of before: Nasturtium Zinger, Cucumber Rose Collins, Violet Beauregard … I feel like I’m on another planet.

Sammy accurately reads the confused look on my face and orders, “Two piña colada martinis and an order of popcorn shrimp.”

“That sounds delicious,” I say as soon as the server walks away.

“Speaking of yummy, take a gander at those two fellas over there. I could eat them with a spoon.” She follows up her statement by making a slurping sound.

I glance in the direction my friend is pointing and nearly swallow my tongue. “Holy crap,” I say as I lift a bar menu up so it’s covering my face.

“I want the tall, dark, and bald Taye Diggs look-alike,” she announces. “You can have the blond.”

My blood runs cold and I can barely find my voice to say, “Sammy, the blond is none other than Chad Adkinson from high school.”

“That’s Chad Adkinson?” she demands. “I always thought he’d be hideously ugly.”

“His heart is as ugly as they come,” I tell her.

“Does he still live in Creek Water?”

“How should I know?”

“You know Davis still lives here,” she prompts.

“Yeah, but I want to know about Davis. The only thing I’ve ever wanted to know about Chad was that he’d been eaten by a pack of rabid wolves or hyenas. I’m not particular about which species devours him.”

“You need to go over there and give that boy a piece of your mind,” Sammy says.

“No way.” I feel sick to my stomach at the very thought.

“Why? Look at you, girl. You look like sex on a stick. You need to march right over there and tell that man what you really think of him.”

I’m suddenly so scared I want to hide under the table, but settle for scooting my chair over, so my back is facing the bar. “I’m not going to do that, Sammy.”

“Honey, we came out so that you could shake your tail feathers and have some fun. You can’t let that bully keep you from your pursuit.” She stands up. “I’m going over there for you.”

I grab her arm with lightning speed. “I will never speak to you again if you do. I mean it, Sammy. If you take one step, you’d better forget you even know my name.”

She sits right back down. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, but darlin’ you’ve gotta stand up for yourself. You’re not a kid anymore; you’re thirty years old.”

This is the second time tonight she’s mentioned my age and it’s starting to annoy me. “I know how old I am,” I tell her. But suddenly it doesn’t seem to matter. I might as well be fifteen for all the confidence I currently possess.

The waitress brings our drinks. “The shrimp will be out in another minute. Can I get you anything else right now?”

“No, thanks,” I say at the same time Sammy asks, “Do you know who