Page 96 of Space Oddities

I suddenly feel like such a failure. My friends see through me. Ian sees through me. I grip my bag hard in my hands. Why am I even trying to hold it together anymore?

Rose’s hand goes for my shot glass, and I smack it away.

“Ow.” She rubs her hand with a pout. “What was that for, T.D.?”

“This ismine, thank you very much.” I choke while inhaling whipped cream and swallowing the Baileys but manage to get it down.

“Wow.” Jules rests her head in her hand. “Shortstack is tying one on.” She frowns. “Why am I just realizing that you’ve never done that before?” She looks to the other girls for confirmation. “I mean, you’ve beentipsy, but I’ve never seen you drunk.”

Rose nods. “Yeah, why is that, T.D.?”

I snag Jules’ shot as well and knock it back before she can object. It goes down smoother this time. “No idea.”

Between the two fingers of whiskey and the sugar-laced shots, my blood starts to heat, and my constant fear begins to ebb.

Rose reaches out her fist toward me. “About time, T.D.”

I tap it with my own.

Jackie slides her glass toward me, a true gesture of friendship considering how much she loves these shots and the trigonometry involved in knocking them back properly—hands free.

Ignoring the math, I pick up the glass and swallow it down.

Three exceptional, amazing women I’m blessed enough to call friends, who have put up with my secrets and half-truths, eye me as if they’ve never seen me before. Maybe they haven’t.

It might be a little late in our relationship, and it’s definitely not the safest decision, but why shouldn’t I have one night where I’m not looking over my shoulder? One night of being a normal girl out with her friends. One night of letting loose before I go.

Decision made, I slap my hand on the table. “We’re dancing.”

Jackie jumps in her seat. “We are?” The genius never dances unless Flynn is around.

Jules stands. “Come on, hooker. I’m sure you can math your way into a rhythm somehow.” She nudges her bestie’s arm and nearly sends Jackie sprawling.

Rose catches her.

Once on her feet, Jackie nods. “Yes, you’re right. Rhythm is a measured, repeated pattern of sound, after all.”

After handing Rose’s purse, as well as mine, to a passing Amanda for safekeeping behind the bar while we dance, I grab Jackie’s hand. “That’s the spirit, sugar.” Though honestly, I would’ve dragged her out on the dance floor even if she’d said no.

I’m determined to let loose. And with alcohol fueling my determination, it feels like there’s nothing I can’t do.

I just wish Ian could see me now.

* * *

It takesa hot minute to lose the security detail.

The security detail that I’m pretty sure wouldnotcare if we left Big Texas. But after an hour on the dance floor, two more rounds of drinks, and another round or two of shots, we were all feeling the desire to be ridiculous.

Rose hums the Mission Impossible soundtrack as we weave our way out the back “employees only” exit, bent over, hands together forming finger guns. We stumble into walls and each other before finally making it out the door.

Jackie, Jules, and I do a running leap into an Uber XL while Rose circles to the front in a bent-over duckwalk.

Like I said, ridiculous. Butso muchfun.

Amanda, holding the security door open, waves goodbye to us, laughing. Sometimes it pays to know the waitstaff.

“Go! Go! Go!” Rose slams the passenger door shut. The driver looks stunned, his brain probably needing a moment to register that four intoxicated women have set off a glitter bomb just by jumping into his car.

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