Page 103 of When Stars Collide
“I’ve never known you to be a fan of complicated.”
“I’d let him complicate the hell out of me,” Kirsten added, breaking the tension between us.
“So, ladies,” Alex spoke, much to the surprise of everyone, “the party bus should be arriving right about now, and I seemed to recall being promised copious amounts of alcohol tonight, so why don’t you say you throw those tank tops on and let’s get this show on the road.”
I turned to Elle. “Damn, maybe she’s my long-lost sister and not yours.”
*****
Candy greeted Elle with an overstated Candy-sized hug the moment our party bus arrived at its first stop. Nearby, three other women I didn’t recognize stood by. Kirsten must have known them, as she sauntered over to them while they appeared to wait for Candy to loosen her grip on Elle. One of them propped up an inflatable man dressed as a cowboy, while another one held a sash and tiara that could only be meant for Elle.
“Mena,” Candy greeted me, wrapping her arms around me before I could take any evasive measures.
“You are certainly full of hugs today.”
“You’re my future daughter-in-law’s best friend, which means you’re part of our family, too, so you’d better get used to the hugs.”
“In that case, have you met Elle’s sister, Alex, yet?”
I looked behind my shoulder to see Alex standing there, eyes wide, shaking her head. I’d probably just royally screwed our chances of becoming friends, but if it got me out of an uncomfortable social interaction, I was willing to make sacrifices.
“Alex, yes.” Candy let me go and made her way over to deer-in-the-headlights Alex.
“You’re terrible,” a newly sashed and tiaraed Elle muttered. “Poor girl is out of her element here and you sic the most extroverted person on her.”
“She’s scrappy. She’ll manage, just like you did.”
“Oh, and by the way, go ahead and enjoy yourself tonight. I appreciate your offer, but Candy doesn’t drink. She can be the responsible one.”
Confused, I watched Elle walk into the bar. She’d seemed grateful when I told her I would take care of making sure no one ended up passed out in a ditch tonight. What had changed her mind? Whether she felt like I wouldn’t be able to handle the task or whether it was just her way of making sure we all had fun, I didn’t know. All I knew was, if I hadn’t intended to keep my alcohol intake to a minimum before, I certainly was intending to now.
One thing could be said about the bar scene in Roanoke, it was nothing like the bar scene in New York. Sure, it was packed, but the crowd still had that small-town vibe to them. I didn’t feel like I was going to be chewed up and spat back out on the street by the natives like I did whenever I went out in the City. Here, I would at least be given a blanket and provided with a bucket when I found myself hunched over in a back alley puking my guts out. It was the kind of hospitality one should be able to expect, really.
Still early in the evening, we were able to find a table large enough to accommodate us all.I was seated next to Kirsten, directly across from Elle and Candy. She seemed anxious, Elle. It wasn’t like her at all. Elle whispered something into Candy’s ear, and she nodded her head in acknowledgment.
“Okay, listen up,” Candy announced. “Drinks are on me tonight. Don’t hold back. Given the size of you ladies, I ought to be able to get out of this pretty cheaply tonight.”
“I may be small, but my liver be mighty,” I said, accepting a straw shaped like a penis as they were passed around the table by a curly-haired, young woman with glasses. Between Elle’s peculiar behavior and being expected to drink from a plastic dick all evening, I was going to have no problem staying on the wagon tonight.
“Oh,” Elle addressed all of us but Kirsten, “Mena, Alex, Violet, and Candy, these ladies are a few more of my coworkers, Lydia, Colleen, and Vera.”
“And don’t forget Walter,” Colleen, the curly-haired woman who’d handed out the dick straws, announced.
“Oh, yes, and Walter the inflatable cowboy.” Elle snickered when Colleen appeared to try to make Walter tip his hat in our respective directions.
“We have a tight schedule tonight,” Candy informed the table. “Lots of establishments to visit, lots of shenanigans on the party bus. So, let’s get to drinking, ladies.”
Not needing to be told any further, Alex chugged her draft beer, earning an appreciative nod from both myself and Kirsten, whose own mixed drink was already half gone—or half-full, if you’re one of those optimistic people. Shortly thereafter, shots arrived, which Candy distributed.
“As the maid of honor, I’d like to propose a toast,” I announced, raising my glass along with everyone else. “To the most selfless, loyal, beautiful, and talented woman I’m proud to call my best friend. Elle, I hope you enjoy your last few weeks of freedom before Luke locks it down.”
“It’s not a prison sentence,” Violet quipped.
“Isn’t it though, Bluebell?”
As everyone downed their shots and plunked their empty glasses on the table, I lifted my rum and Coke to my mouth, pretending to use it as a chaser, and discreetly spat out my shot without anyone noticing.
“Oh, my gosh! This is my jam,” Lydia announced. “Come on, ladies. Let’s hit the dance floor.” She grabbed Walter, much to Colleen’s consternation, and proceeded to dance to the beat of the song with him at her side.
