Page 82 of Living with Death

“Yes. If you’ll have me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You mean all I had to do was be mad to get your ass to go out with me?”

I exhale. I hadn’t realized how uptight I was, how much I wanted Sam’s understanding and valued our friendship until it was at risk of being over. Truthfully, a part of me would also like to get drunk. Again.

“So that’s a yes?”

She laughs, and the tension clears. “Of course, it’s a yes. I’m dying to know all about your life and your mother. Dear God, I can’t wait to hear about her.”

I scoff. “It’s going to be a long night.”

*

The bar is loud, just as I thought it would be. The people around us laugh and smile and drink. Sam ordered us some food, but my stomach couldn’t take it. Heartache is new for me. I don’t care to feel like this again.

“More shots?” I ask Sam. “I’m buying.”

“You bet your ass you are.” She winks, taking a bite of the cheese stick. I roll my eyes but give her a grin. Sam and I have been talking about everything for a few hours. My past, her past. My mother, her mother. We’ve compared fathers and decided mine was worse. We cried a little, laughed a lot, and got mad at the shit they’ve put us through.

I got it all out. Even the part about my grandpop talking to ghosts. Of course, I didn’t tell her the truth about Azrael. I’d never betray him as he has done me. Sam informed me that her date with Neal went well, but she’s not into him like that. Sam might fear commitment, and I think her father leaving her as a child might be why.

A good song comes on, causing my body to shimmy on its own.

“Shake that ass, girl!” Sam yells.

I laugh, moseying up to the bar. We’ve had five or so shots and a few beers. The bartender looks at me, giving me a smile I’m sure he gives every woman here.

“What’ll you have, Red?”

“Red?” I question with a loose grin. I’m tipsy. There’s no doubt.

“No one’s ever called you that before?”

I bite my cheek, narrowing my eyes. “Nope. Not once.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.Faker.

“Well, it suits you. Your hair’s the color of fire.”

“Fire,” I repeat. “I like that.”

“I like that, too,” he says.

I clear my throat because the look he’s giving says things I don’t want to hear.

“I can feel you forgetting me.”

I pale, my body freezing in place. “Thanks. Um, can I get two shots?” I look back at the table, seeing Sam down the last bit of her beer. “And two beers.”

“You got it.” He winks. I claim a stool beside a woman who looks like she stepped out of the eighties. Good music in those eighties.

“Are you, darling?”

Chills lick my spine.

I close my eyes. “Leave me alone.”

“Excuse me?” the woman says.

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