Page 17 of Ellie Hayes and the Himbos
“Absolutamente!”Diego replies, and jogs past us to position himself in an open garage doorway. He claps his hands to get theattention of everyone inside and on the turf. “Good morning, friends! I will lead your cooldown while Ian talks to Ellie! We met her last night! She’s going to live with us and work here!”
The floor squeaks with the sound of sweaty heads turning to take me in. It’s unsettling, like someone’s given the command to an army of undead.
“Everyone sayWelcome, Ellie!” Diego instructs.
The room echoes with a chorus of “Welcome, Ellie!” that’s both hospitable and reenforces the legion of the damned thing. I wave.
“Ellie is very good at flip cup and has beautiful handwriting,” Diego continues. “She also taught us that you never use water to put out a grease fire! That makes it worse!”
“Oh, girlie,” says an older woman propped up on her elbows a few yards away. She’s wearing the most violently pink lipstick I’ve ever seen away from a drag show. “You’re either very brave or very desperate.”
“Both,” I concede, which gets some laughs from the fallen.
Diego redirects the crowd’s attention, saying something about scorpion pose, and Ian motions for me to follow him. We head toward an arrangement of couches and chairs between the pro shop and the front desk, which is conspicuously devoid of an attendant.
“Have you been hydrating?” he asks. I shrug, and he moves to a mini-fridge on the counter. Pushing past the cans I recognize from Diego’s room and Grant’s car, he produces a pair of large, squarish bottles of purple liquid. He hands one to me with a “Try this.”
“Electrolit?” I ask, reading the label aloud. It’s all in Spanish.
He unscrews the cap of the one he holds. “More effective than Gatorade, but when buying it by the armload, it’s less shameful than the stuff meant for toddlers with diarrhea.”
“Thank you.” I unscrew the cap and lift my bottle toward his. “Cheers.” The containers connect with a thud, and we drink. It’s not bad. The grape flavor is strong, with a hint of salt.
Ian watches me as he drinks. When he lowers the bottle, he’s half smiling again, setting off a fluttering sensation in my chest. We each take a seat, me on the couch, him on one of the boxy armchairs opposite it. “What do you remember about last night?” He’s not needling me, just curious.
I appreciate that he’s not making a big deal about this. “Not a lot. We had—” My faceignites. “Fun?”
“I’m glad you think so, too.” He cocks his head. “I can’t remember much, either. We, uh…” He holds his hands up, palms together, fingers entwined, then pulls his hands apart.
“Disengaged?”
“Sure. And then you fled the scene.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Did I at least thank you?”
He laughs. “No idea. I ended up outside, and then woke up around seven on the floor with no memory how I got there. The Lyft receipt helped. I tipped two hundred percent,” he muses. “Then I coached. After I showered. Where I also threw up.”
“Gotcha.” So, that’s that. Glad he took a rideshare. “Sorry about bailing. I—” I’m not sure what to say or what I detailed last night. “I’m in a weird spot right now. As far as”—I raise my hands, forming an arc above my head to encompass me—“all ofmy life.”
“So, that includes the breakup, subsequent homelessness, moving in with the guys, and wanting the front desk position here for supplemental income?”
I blink. “How did—”
“Diego can get a lot of information out at once. He doesn’t breathe much. It’s caused problems with his lifts.” He tugs on the rim of his cap. “You get the lowdown on the job?”
“Checking people in, routine cleaning, social posts…” I say, recalling the list of duties the guys mentioned, and he nods along. His eyes really are the most incredible color. And did I miss the cleft in his chin? Because it ispronounced. It would be very much in keeping with Drunk Ellie to have run a finger along that space, maybe make a sawing noise.
Nope; that’s a memory. I did do that.Jesus.
I meet Ian’s eyes again and realize that I’ve let the silence go on long enough to develop a charge. It seems smart to ask, “Where are we, exactly, as far as last night?”
“Like you said. We had fun.”
“And that’s… all?”
