the restaurants and shops as the Viking’s Honda Accord inched down the crowded street. A lit-up plastic jack-o’-lantern winked back at her from a bar window. “He was there with someone. With a girl. With four girls. He’s probably in a polygamous relationship. And he’s probably happy in his polygamous relationship with his four girlfriends. I bet he doesn’t even have time for a fifth girlfriend. Not that I want to be his fifth girlfriend. I want to be his only girlfriend. Or wait. I don’t wait to be his girlfriend at all! I just . . . Oh, forget it.”
She slumped against the side of the car, the window cold against her cheek, the slight bounce of the car rocking her to sleep.
“Wait!” Kirsten screeched so suddenly that everyone jumped, except for the Viking, who was apparently used to Kirsten yelling while he drove.
“What’s wrong?” Teddy asked, panicked.
“Pull in over there!” Kirsten frantically gestured across the street.
“Taco Bell?” Eleanor asked.
Kirsten smiled back at them. “This calls for Crunchwrap Supremes. Teddy, this dude is smoking. And he’s good with kids. And he’s gonna be so into you as soon as you tell him who you are.”
“Celebratory Crunchwrap Supremes!” Eleanor cheered. “The perfect drunchies!”
Teddy wrinkled her nose. “What’s a drunchie?”
“You sweet, innocent child,” Kirsten said with a headshake. “Drunk munchies. Drunchies. Something to shove down the ol’ gullet and soak up all the alcohol and questionable decisions. And trust me, the Taco Bell menu is scientifically designed to be perfect drunchies.”
As the Viking pulled into the drive-thru, Teddy couldn’t help but smile, even as she wondered if Taco Bell was actually the wisest decision right now. But whatever. Her friends remembered her ideal Taco Bell order and didn’t flinch when she puked and were happy when she was happy.
She might have mortally embarrassed herself in front of Everett St. James, but things weren’t so bad after all.
25
“So?” Natalie asked, eyes wide. “How’d it go?”
Everett looked down at the four women staring at him. Lillian took a sip of her beer.
He frowned and sat down. “I think I struck out.”
Natalie narrowed her eyes. “You think? What does that mean?”
Everett rubbed his neck. “Well, I said hi, and she told me she had to puke.”
Natalie stared at him.
“And then she ran away,” Everett added.
Natalie and Lillian exchanged a glance.
“Seems bad, right?” Everett asked.
“Here.” Natalie handed him her beer. “I haven’t had a drink of this yet, and you need it more than I do.”
Everett took a sip, then sighed. “Have I lost it? Did I ever even have it? I thought women liked me.”
Lillian lifted a shoulder. “Kinda sounds like you drove this one to nausea.”
Natalie elbowed her. “Not helpful. Are you sure there wasn’t something else going on? I mean, I’ve seen you around women. They love you, and they typically keep control of their bodily functions.”
“I guess my string of successful female interactions had to come to an end sometime,” Everett said, taking another drink. “Now women find me disgusting. I’ll just have to get used to the idea of dying alone. Can I have another beer?”
“On it,” Lillian said as she headed to the bar.
Natalie scooted over to take her place and put an arm around Everett. “Okay, so Puke Girl aside, aren’t you glad you came out tonight?”
Everett raised his eyebrows. “Listen to what you just said.”
“I mean, you killed it at karaoke. Pretty sure Prince himself, in the afterlife, put a hand to his ear and was like ‘Uh, what’s that? Some big white dude is absolutely doing my song justice?’”
“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Everett muttered to his empty bottle.
“And you got drunk,” Natalie said. “Isn’t that nice? Didn’t you enjoy that mai tai buzz?”
“I’m only a happy drunk for a while,” Everett said, peeling the paper off the bottle. “Now I’m tired and annoyed.”
The unmistakable piano notes of “Wuthering Heights” started and Everett’s eyes shot to the stage. “Is he seriously doing this song again?”
“Oh, hell yes,” Lillian said, sitting down beside Natalie and handing Everett his beer without taking her eyes off the stage. “I love this song.”
Natalie shook her head in wonder. “The people want what the people want, and what they want is Wuthering Heights Brian.”
Everett sighed. What he wanted was to be at home, on the couch, working. Sketching. Writing. Answering emails from kids. Writing notes to share with Jeremy next week. Because at least there, he was in control. When he was working, he knew that if he gave it