Page 8 of Dear Adam
Adam doesn’t answer right away, and instantly I panic.He knows.He knows I have inappropriate thoughts about his sister.
“She’s really hit her stride with the flower shop,” he says, and I can tell how proud he is of her. I wait for him to say more but when he doesn’t, I point to a couple seats that just opened up at the bar. We move over to them and the bartender slides us two more glasses. I ignore this one and instead push it to the guy next to me. He happily takes it and moves off toward the dance floor.
Adam and I stay at the bar catching up until Adam’s eyes glaze over and his words start to slur. He’s telling me a story about Pretzel when he stops abruptly and says, “Oh my gosh. Could you imagine if your German Shepherd had puppies with my Weiner Dog? We’d have… Weiner Shepherds.” Adam’s already red face deepens even more crimson as his laughter fills the small space between us.
“Right. Weiner Shepherds,” I echo dryly, aware that maybe we should be getting home sooner rather than later. Adam’s still chuckling, so amused at his joke that would make middle school boys everywhere laugh too.
Then, the girls from earlier find us at the bar, and I groan. I justknowAly got the complete wrong idea earlier when whatever-her-name-is had her hand wrapped possessively around my bicep.
Adam’s already headed to the makeshift dance floor in the sand, which is illuminated by hundreds of Edison lights. This girl is tugging on my arm, and I have no choice but to follow. She wraps her arms around my neck and presses herself against me.
You know how when you’re holding someone, and they fit perfectly against you? Like how I can tuck my mom perfectly under my chin, or a baby fits perfectly in the cradle of its mother’s arms?
That doesn’t happen here. Amelia’s body just doesn’t conform to mine.
“Do you want to get out of here?” she whispers in my ear.
“More than you know,” I mutter, thinking of my bed, empty with the exception of my dog, Hank, who takes up enough room for two people. I glance at Adam to check on him, and he’s wearing that same dopey grin from earlier.
This girl—Amelia, is it?—must have misunderstood me, because her eyes have shifted into a weird expression. I think she’s trying to look sexy, but mostly she looks like she has a grain of sand stuck in one.
“Are you okay?” I ask, but not really willing to help if something is really stuck in her eye. Eyes freak me out.
“Never better!” she squeals, and tosses a long blonde curl over her shoulder. I catch a whiff of something burnt and scan the room for any downed tiki torches or someone having set their lei on fire.
When Amelia tosses another perfect curl over her shoulder, I realize it’s the smell of her hair. Is her hair even real? She’s doing that funky thing with her eyes again, and now I really am kind of scared.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” I say, breaking free from Amelia.
Adam follows me and yells, “Are we the luckiest guys in California right now or what?”
I ignore him, and a few minutes later as I’m washing my hands, I wonder why in the world I’m turning down a pretty girl on a Friday night. Adam is still in line for the next open stall, so I walk back out to the bar. Amelia and her friend are there, waiting for us and her eyes light up when she sees me. Frantically, I rack my brain for a way out of this. Suddenly, it comes to me, and I wait for the guilt to hit. When it doesn’t, I soldier on.
“Adam’s not really feeling well,” I say with a grimace. “He’s a bit of a… you know.Lightweight,” I whisper. Consider it retribution for all those times he pushed me away from Aly in high school. “Why don’t you write down your numbers on this napkin and we’ll give you a call?”
I pull a napkin from the holder on the bar and the girls both pout but write down their numbers anyway. I tuck the napkin into my pocket with a gentle pat.See ladies?We won’t forget about you.“You don’t want to stay around for this,” I say, gently guiding them to the door, knowing Adam could come out at any minute and ruin my plan.
Amelia’s eyes are doing that thing again and her head tilts to the left. She closes her eyes and brings her face toward mine and…oh boy.
“Y’all be safe, okay? Sorry your eyes have been bothering you all night, Amelia.”
“Amelia?” she screeches. “I’mOlivia,you dirtbag.”
She kicks sand at my feet, and okay, I’ll give her that one. I absolutely deserved that. Bestie in tow, she teeters away on her heels, in search of an Uber. She shoots me one more dirty look along with her middle finger before she slides into the backseat. I sigh and pull out the phone numbers, knowing there’s no way I can give these to Adam after that little whoopsie. When he finds me, I quickly wad it up and toss it into the nearest trash can.
“Where’d they go?” Eagerly, he searches the parking lot and finally lands on the Uber pulling away from the curb. A pair of round butt cheeks are plastered against the back window and he eyes me suspiciously.
“Something was in Amelia’s eye. They had to go.” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
“Seriously?” Adam whines. “They were so pretty.”
“Mhm,” I hum noncommittally, checking my phone. “So pretty.”
Adam pouts and kicks at a stray piece of gravel. “Her eyes did look kinda weird, didn’t they?”
I nod in agreement. “You’ll be okay,” I say, patting his shoulder.
“Did you at least get their numbers?”
