Page 49 of Notes About Vodka

I’ve seen Val at work nearly every day and we text constantly. We’ve also kept up our playful back-and-forth on napkins, and I even have his latest note folded in my pocket. I pull it out, reading the words for what feels like the hundredth time,

“You light up the room every time you walk in.”

Below, he added one of his terrible jokes:

Why do biologists look forward to casual Fridays? Because they’re allowed to wear genes to work!

You are so different, Valerie.

Despite how much those little notes make me smile, I haven’t had much time to see him outside ofPianissimo. I’m always running late, hiding in the shadows as I quickly catch up on lecture notes or complete my nightly side work so I can escape back home.

I’ve barely seen Rhea or Skipper since they are both exceptionally busy as well. Between school, work, meetings with Ronni, and now counseling sessions with Dr. Pam, I don’t have enough hours in my days.

Speaking of which, I think back to my session with Dr. Pam this morning after I finally got up and motivated. She suggested I find a creative outlet, something besides piano, classes, and work. She said it could help me process my emotions in a different way, maybe even give me a sense of control over something when everything else feels so chaotic. I know she’s right—having something just for myself, something that isn’t tied to grades or obligations, might be exactly what I need.

“Maybe try painting,” she said. “Or growing something on your patio. Didn’t you tell me it gets plenty of sunlight? Gardening could be therapeutic.”

A small garden on the patio? I can already picture Skipper naming every single plant after a famous rock star. He’d probably name a tomato plant Freddie Mercury or dub an ornamental pepper Bon Jovi.

I smile to myself. Even with all the chaos, I can’t help but be excited about my future. I’m getting serious about applying for medical school, and I even had a virtual meeting about internships today after I met with Dr. Pam.

The process is intense, but I’m ready.

Volunteering with doctors, working with kids, maybe even shadowing surgery again one day...Life can only go up from here, right?

By the time I get to work that night, I’m already exhausted from the day which culminated in a little bit of piano practice before I left the apartment.

Seeing Val’s face lights me up. He’s standing behind the bar, grinning at me like I’m the best part of his day. The way his dark brown eyes twinkle whenever I walk in never fails to make my heart flutter. Before I can even say hello though, Mads sidles up, giving me a side hug before he steers me to the bar.

“Laura, you are not ready for this. Val, pour it up comrade,” Mads tells Val as he pulls two barstools out of our way.

Smiling, Val lines up three highball glasses. Then, he pours a shot of clear liquid from one of the restaurant's water growlers into each.

“Careful,” Mads whispers as the three of us reach for aglass. I take the one in the middle and the guys clink theirs to mine. Mads continues, “Whatever this is that Val made, it might taste like water, but wait for the fire.”

I look Val in the eyes as I bring the glass to my lips. I take a small sip, letting my tongue linger on the edge.

It’s... Huh, it’s nothing. Just a slightly sweet water.

I toss the rest of the shot back. Mads’s eyes are wide as I place my glass on the counter. Val bursts out laughing.

“What?” I ask.

“Laura, babe,” Val starts, taking just a small sip of his drink. “You are brave, but don’t be mad when Mads warned you...”

“Huh?” I’m still confused, but then I feel it.

Heat unlike anything I’ve ever known bubbles up from my belly. My eyes go wide as tiny beads of sweat being to immediately pebble on my face. This burn, it's unlike anything I’ve ever experienced as I belch dragon flames.

“Fire,” I wheeze out. “I’m on... I'm on fire!”

I start to panic, fanning my mouth with my hand but Val is already placing a cold cup of milk in my other hand, helping me guide the new glass to my lips. How he moves so fast is beyond me as I lean back into his chest.

Mads passes Val a wet cloth that Val then presses to my forehead.

The milk goes down smoothly but Val takes it away too soon. “Slowly, Laura. You just took my ghost honey hot pepper shot, the cream will help, but not if you chug it.”

“I hate you both,” I mumble as I turn into Val’s arms and bury my face into his black dress shirt underneath his suit jacket.

---