Page 9 of The Pieces We've Lost

CHAPTER FIVE

ellison

Despite us arriving downtown just before nine o’clock, the bar Isa wanted to go to, duly named the Ace in the Hole Bar, was packed. And when I say packed, I meanpacked.When we arrived, there was hardly any room on the dance floor, and you could clearly tell whothoughtthey knew how to swing dance but obviously didn’t. They were the guys who were swinging their partner into everyone else and weren’t doing their job as a lead: watch the dance floor and protect your partner.

We ordered our drinks, a Malibu lemonade for her and a tequila soda for me, and found a table across from the bar. I knew I would end up sitting alone for a bit later on while Isa made her rounds. It didn’t bother me. I was fine on my own. Besides, this was normally how going out went.

Between the two of us, Isa was the flirt, the girl who caught everyone’s attention, and I had zero interest in any of the men here. They were either fake cowboy frat boys who only wanted one night or they were actual cowboyswho were here for the rodeo. And I wasn’t trying to get roped back into that lifestyle.

“Did you hear about what happened between Maddie and Logan?”

When I said no, Isa gave me the inside scoop of the breakup between two of her friends. Apparently, Logan got caught cheating on Maddie with Maddie’s cousin. I didn’t have a big friend group like Isa did. I also didn’t get involved with the gossip mill or drama as much as she did. It wasn’t that I was anti-social, I merely chose to keep to myself. It was easier that way.

“God, Houston is always so busy. I seriously can’t believe they’re still letting people inside the bar.” I observed the bouncers glancing at peoples’ IDs and letting them through without even considering capacity limits. The air was starting to feel as sticky as the floors.

“I know, the rodeo always makes downtown so packed. Speaking of which, how are you holding up?” she asked as she sipped on her drink.

“It honestly doesn’t feel real,” I admitted. “It never does. Fifteen years later, and I still expect to come home to see him in the living room dancing with my mom and getting ready to go to a rodeo.”

“I’m sorry, El. You know I’m always going to be here for you, though.”

She tapped her hand over mine as she gave me a knowing smile, one I had gotten way too often from people. I knew Isa meant well, but it was hard to separate any kind of sympathy from pity.

I attempted to reciprocate her smile, but I knew mine didn’t reach my eyes. “I know. You’re one of the few people who I trust with this. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t even be going tomorrow. But everything I do these days isfor my mom.” I shrugged and took another sip of my drink.

“I’m sorry.” She pouted, drawing out her apology. “I didn’t mean to kill the mood. This is supposed to be a fun night! Come on, let’s go find some guys to dance with.” Isa pulled me to my feet. I groaned but allowed her to drag me onto the edge of the dance floor.

The DJ was playing an old George Strait song, one of his many number one hits. The song ended shortly after we got up and the intro to a line dance started to play. Everyone started lining up, and Isa handed me her drink so she could join.

I’ll admit, I wasn’t big on line dances or dancing in general. I mean, I knew how to. Everyone who grew up in a small town in Texas knew how to dance. It was kind of a requirement. But dancing always seemed to have the expectation of a conversation, and conversation was the gateway to something more.

Isa gestured for me to get out into the crowd with her, but I shook my head laughing and held up our drinks with a shrug, as if to say,“Sorry my hands are full.”It was her fault for handing me her drink in the first place, and I already could see people struggling with the choreography. It was a more advanced dance with lots of steps and turns.

“Okay, that was so hard,” Isa gasped after she ran off the dance floor in the middle of the song, choosing to bail out instead of suffering through the rest of the dance.

“There’s a reason why I wasn’t going out there.” I handed her back her drink.

“You should have at least come out there with me. Make fools of ourselves in solidarity, you know.” She held back a laugh as someone messed up a step somewhere inthe middle of the floor and caused an entire group behind them to trip up.

Those poor people.

The song ended a couple painful minutes later and the hardwood cleared up. Another old country song started to play and people were already filing back onto the dance floor.

“Would you like to dance?” a guy asked as he approached Isa.

I looked over at him. He seemed nice enough, and Isa was instantly charmed.

“Sure!” She put her drink down on a table nearby and grabbed his hand as he led her out onto the dance floor.

This was my cue to leave. I didn’t want to hurt someone’s feelings by saying no if they asked me to dance, but I also didn’t feel like getting my toes stepped on or elbowed in the head by another couple. I had seen that happen one too many times already.

The table we originally sat at was still open, so I quickly made my way over to sit down, wanting to snag a seat before the group of college girls in neon-colored tops and pink cowboy hats could get there.

I was still nursing my drink when a new song started playing and I spotted Isa on the dance floor with a new partner: a lanky guy with dark, messy hair, slick with sweat, presumably from all of the body heat radiating on the dance floor. He was stumbling over his feet and I couldn’t tell who was leading, her or him.

I chuckled to myself and turned my head just as a blond in a silverbelly sauntered up to my table. I could tell right away that this dude was all hat and no cattle. On the cowboy scale of one to ten, he’d probably be a two. His hat also desperately needed to be shaped. It didn’t evenseem as if it looked like that from use. It looked like he had left it on his pickup dash for a couple days to make it seem worn. It didn’t quite have the effect he was probably looking for.

“Hello there, darlin’,” he drawled as he swayed back and forth, grabbing the edge of the table to help balance himself.

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