Page 5 of Forget Me Not

He unofficially declared it our spot and we’ve been coming here ever since. The bar itself is owned by an eighty-five-year-old woman named June. She was never married and claims she doesn’t know anyone named Carl, just liked the name for the bar.

We met June the first night that Theo brought me here. She walked over to where we were sitting, looked me up and down, and then proceeded to scold me for drinking ginger ale at herplace. I told her that I wasn’t much of a drinker, just there for moral support. She wasn’t happy about it but said she would choose to ignore my “obvious distaste.”

We’ve been coming here for a little over a year now and June has only shown up a handful of times. Tonight, she doesn’t seem to be here. The bar itself is nothing special and probably hasn’t been updated since June bought it thirty years ago. It’s all dark-brown wood, with booths lining the left wall, a large bar on the right, and a couple scattered high tops in between.

I guess what makes this place special is the fact that even when it’s packed, there never seems to be any trouble. No fights, no angry drunks, just no drama. It’s like everyone has a general understanding that you come to Carl’s to drink, relax, and not be bothered.

“The cute bartender is working tonight, so I’ve got drinks,” Theo says, already making his way out of the booth. “Doomsday, you’re with me.”

As the two of them make their way over to the bar in the center, I turn my body to face Gabby. The thing about Gabby is that she’s quiet until pushed, which means with big personalities like Theo and Demi, she sometimes can become invisible. I know what that feels like all too well, so I always try to make her feel included. Even though I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mind the invisibility. In fact, sometimes I think she might prefer it. I know I do.

“How have you been, Gab? I feel like I’ve barely seen you these past few weeks.” I smile at her and she returns the gesture.

“I’ve been good. I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to catch up on sleep whenever I can since I haven’t been sleeping the best at night,” she says, letting her words trail off toward the end.

“Is your new roommate still bothering you?” I ask, concerned. Gabby lives in a three-bedroom apartment about ten minutes farther from the hospital than me.

About a month ago, one of her roommates got offered a job out of state and decided to leave the next day without giving Gabby or her other roommate any notice. The roommate who stayed, Kaia, is a nice girl but the complete opposite of Gabby. She’s twenty-one years old, to Gabby’s twenty-five, and a huge partier. It was never an issue for Gabby since Kaia ended up out clubbing most nights. But when Kaia took it upon herself to find and offer their empty room to someone new, it became a problem.

The person she offered it to is a twenty-six-year-old guy who parties just as much as Kaia, except he does it out of their apartment. Theo has begged Gabby to let him go over there and tell the guy off so she can get some sleep, but she refuses. She’s too polite for conflict, but I know she’ll reach her breaking point sooner or later, and I hope I’m nowhere near her when that happens. Although, it would be enjoyable to watch her lose her temper on him.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s his home too, and it’s not every night like it used to be. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says right as Theo and Demi walk back up to the booth, drinks in hand.

“What can’t you handle?” Demi asks as she scoots in across from Gabby, Theo taking the seat across from me.

“Nothing, I’m just a little behind on sleep,” Gabby replies, quickly changing the subject, “What’d you get me?”

“A Corona with a lime for you, my love. Although I still don’t know how you actually enjoy the taste of any beer,” Theo replies before looking distastefully in my direction. “As for you, Tink, I refuse to order a ginger ale. You’re on your own.”

“Seriously? What is wrong with you?”

“Cute bartender is working tonight, therefore I can’t be seen ordering something as boring as ginger ale in front of him. It’s embarrassing,” he says, looking exasperated at the idea of ordering for me.

“This is ridiculous, even for you.” I sigh, scooting out of the booth and heading to the bar to get my own drink.

I work my way through the crowd and walk up to the part of the bar that doesn’t house any barstools. Squeezing between two separate groups of people, I see the bartender working on someone else’s drinks. I lean against the bar while I wait for him to make his way over.

The bar is loud with chatter as rock music still plays in the background, just loud enough to be heard but not overpowering. A couple of months ago, Demi and I happened to be here on one of the nights that June was in, and she made it a point to complain about the terrible music that was playing.

We kindly told her that it was her bar and if she didn’t like the music, why wouldn’t she change it? She told us the playlist was being played from one of her bartender’s phones and they hid it from her because apparently her music didn’t fit the vibe.

I didn’t realize at the time, but her bartender was right. On another night, we ended up here at the same time as June, and she somehow managed to get control over the music. Ear-piercing metal blasted through the bar speakers so loud that you could barely hear yourself think until one of the bartenders managed to steal back her phone. They’ve made sure to let her nowhere near anyone’s phone since then.

“Well, hello, beautiful.” The voice next to me draws my attention to him. A man at least a foot taller than my measly five foot two stands with his side against the bar, facing me. He has dark-brown hair, light-brown eyes, a straight white smile that reveals an adorable dimple, and a plethora of tattoos covering his body. I can admit the man is hot. That still doesn’t stop the very unladylike laugh that comes out of me at the cheesy line.

“Please tell me you did not just lead with hello, beautiful,” I say, still laughing. You’d think my response would make him give up, but nope. This guy only smiles bigger.

“Smooth,” a deep, gravelly voice comes from next to him.

I look up to see a second man, his eyes looking me up and down. I suddenly feel exposed.

They’re both around the same height, muscular, and covered in tattoos, but that’s where their similarities end. Where the man who’s flirting with me radiates a light, playful energy, the other one gives closed-off vibes, something I recognize and can relate to.

His hair is darker than his friend’s, such a rich, dark brown it nearly looks black, and his eyes are a deep navy blue that reminds me of the darkest parts of the ocean. His eyes seem so familiar, yet not at all. I internally reprimand myself for ogling him and turn my attention back to his friend who is still watching me with a smile on his face.

“I think I like the fact that you just called me out on it more than I would’ve liked it if you’d gone for it.” He laughs. “I’m Asher, the asshole making fun of me is Kade.”

Said asshole tipping his head slightly in a nod, but that’s the only acknowledgment he shows other than staring. His eyes never seem to leave mine.

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