Page 23 of One Last Run

Danica shook her head vehemently, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. Lizzie McGuire in a college dive bar was one thing; Lizzie McGuire in a rich resort town was another.

To Danica’s surprise, a random woman from the crowd hopped onto the low stage with the rallying cry, “Sing for me Paolo!” Pete howled with laughter, leaning into the performance with the woman, who also knew every word.

A server carrying a tray full of tiny plastic containers of colorful jello shots passed near the table and Danica flagged herdown, desperate to focus on anything other than Pete and the woman on stage. The last time she’d considered a jello shot had probably been in college, but she needed something immediate. Curiosity and unexpected annoyance made her look back at the stage, where Pete was holding the woman in a prom pose as they sang the last few lines of the song, gazing at each other dramatically.

Something not quite as intense as jealousy simmered under her skin, and she tried her best to shove it far, far down. She and Pete had a history, but were not together in any way. Therefore, she had no right to be jealous of anything Pete did. Still, did Pete have to be so extra, twirling the stranger and lowering her into a dip as the song ended to raucous applause? Pete was just being classic Pete — life of the party, outgoing, flirtatious. After all, hadn’t she pulled a similar stunt with Danica for their first kiss?

Pete made her way through the crowd, grabbing a jello shot off the table and raising it in a cheers motion as Maggie and Izzy gave her high fives. Pete’s piercing dark eyes settled on her, one eyebrow cocked in silent question, and Danica felt the weight of that scrutiny. She got the feeling that Pete was daring her to say something, daring her to remember the first time they’d sang that song.

The recognizable first metallic guitar strums of “The Sweet Escape” by Gwen Stefani distracted Danica, and then she saw Kiera on the stage holding a microphone. Immediately upon the realization, Danica turned into a woo girl, shouting as Kiera hit the first few strange “Woo hoo, yee hoos” of the song.

“I didn’t know Kiera had it in her,” Izzy remarked, running her finger around the rim of her jello shot to loosen it.

Danica frowned. “Kiera loves karaoke, are you kidding? She used to perform this at every karaoke night.” Danica turned back to the stage to find Maggie standing beside Kiera and singing the backup vocals. She couldn’t help but laugh, and cheered herfriend on. Kiera was adorable and in her element, all round cheeks and Mom-bob and goofy dance moves.

“That night at the Inn — you remember?” Pete whispered, too close to her ear.

Awareness prickled along her skin and she turned to look up at Pete. “Nope.”

Pete chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Liar.” How was her voice a purr as she said the word?

Heat flushed in Danica’s cheeks, despite her best attempts to not let Pete’s closeness affect her. Of course, she knew what Pete was talking about, but she’d rather gnaw off her left arm than let Pete know that. She shifted, stepping away from Pete as Maggie jumped into a rousing rendition of the “woo hoo, yee hoo” hook to close out the song, attempting to wave her slinged arm in the air over her head. Danica tamped down her doctor-panic and instead laughed, shaking her head. The three of them cheered as Kiera and Maggie left the stage, making their way back through the packed tables.

A drink was passed to her, and Danica was surprised to see that Izzy was offering it to her. She mumbled a thanks, watching with piqued interest as Izzy offered Pete the same type of drink. It smelled sweet, and Pete took a sip. “Rum and coke,” she explained over the sound of someone else beginning a song.

Kiera reappeared at the table, and Danica squeezed her arm with excitement. “How are we supposed to follow that?” she teased. Kiera grabbed the last jello shot, using her tongue to scoop out the jello, then chewed with a grimace. “You’re supposed to just swallow,” Danica said, laughing again.

“I can hardly swallow an Advil, you think this cup of jello is going down in one piece? No, thank you,” Kiera said around a mouth full of green jello.

Danica crinkled her nose. “You’re a delicate flower.”

“I can’t believe you missed a swallowing joke there,” Maggie said, holding a clear drink. “Low hanging fruit.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my breasts that way,” Kiera said with mock defensiveness.

Danica sputtered, wiping at her mouth, and her gaze caught on Pete, who was standing across the table watching her. Was it curiosity or memory that made Danica’s insides tighten with a thrill at the sight of those dark eyes watching her? Kiera wrapped an arm around Danica’s shoulders, leaning to take a drink of Danica’s drink, and Danica glanced away from Pete, distracted.

Another patron dropped the karaoke song list binder on their table and they flipped through, laughing about what songs they should choose. Maggie immediately claimed a Britney Spears song, and Kiera pleaded with Danica to sing “Islands in the Stream.” Izzy chose Alanis Morrisette’s “You Oughta Know.”

Two rum and cokes later, Danica was being dragged on stage next to Kiera, their clothes awash in a rainbow of colors from an awkward party light. “I changed the song,” Kiera told her with a wink, just before the iconic first notes of Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman” began. Danica was delighted and felt the joy rising in her chest like bubbles. She barely yelled, “Let’s go, girls!” in time.

Maybe it was the song, maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the freedom of singing karaoke in a town where you knew no one. Or maybe it was the fact that she was on vacation, or that she was back with friends she’d once spent every day with during such a happy time in her life, but Danica could feel the tension dissipating from her body as she sang, not caring about anyone else in the bar, anything else in her life. A great singer, she was not, but she could sing on-key and hit most of the notes. As she was scream-singing about the prerogative to have a little fun, she looked out across the bar, over the tables packed with people who were either singing along or completely ignoring her. Pete,taller than most, watched her with a strange expression on her face, a combination of amusement and something else Danica couldn’t quite figure out, something like tenderness.

The song ended and Maggie was on stage singing “Miss New Booty” before Danica and Kiera had even made it back to the table.

A few minutes later, Danica stood in the small, dark hallway waiting for the single-stall bathroom to open up. She fanned her face, flushed from the alcohol or from the intensity of Pete’s stare. Her imagination often ran far wilder than she’d wished it would, but she couldn’t be imagining the growing familiarity, the rising tension between her and Pete. It was the same spark of attraction that had always sparked between them nearly twenty years before, when they were just eighteen-year-old idiots with bad fake IDs.

Danica ran a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face. Water, space away from Pete, and time would quiet this feeling. Alcohol had always made her extra stupid about Pete, and she blamed it for a number of wrongs, including their first kiss, the first time she’d ever said I love you, and also the only time she’d ever begged Pete to just be with her, to justchooseher. Pathetic.

That last time had been only a few months before graduation, and Danica had felt Pete slipping through her fingers already. No matter how tightly she held, Pete was always just out of reach, like she’d been grasping at the shadow of what could be instead of the reality of what was.

The memory ached in Danica’s chest even after all this time, and only worsened when Pete turned the corner and entered the hallway where Danica stood. Time seemed to stretch, and she could see every detail of Pete’s approach: the way her shoulders moved, the determined set of her jaw, the almost palpable intensity radiating from her. Desire?

“Wendell,” Pete said quietly when she reached Danica, Pete’s strong fingers wrapping gently around Danica’s hand.

Pete’s hand, warm and surprisingly rough against her skin, sent a jolt of heat up Danica’s arm, despite her thick sweater. Pete glanced around for privacy, then moved to guide Danica further down the hall, out of sight from the main bar area.

“What do you want?” Danica asked, her entire body tensing in coiled anticipation.

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