Page 39 of Black Wave

Then he spews a verbal vomit of questions all about Liv. “Finally,” I laugh. “I was waiting for that.” I proceed to catch him up quickly on how Liv has been and the guilt that eats her up on a daily basis, but how she perseveres, continuing to work and attend school. Jameson comes back with my drink, and I take a big swallow of the clean-tasting beverage.

“I moved to Houston for her, you know. She was a wreck. I worried about her and told her I was ready to make a new life for myself. Start a new adventure.” I can see Jameson perk up at these words. Little does he know that there is another reason for my move. Despite Julian finding me, I am still trying to live my life, until he either catches up to me or I cease to exist. He once told me that if he couldn’t have me, then no one would. Iabsolutely believe him. “Honestly, I couldn’t let her come here by herself. She didn’t even go to her graduation.”

Dax rubs his hands down his face. “I tried to reach out to her.”

“Yeah, she told me. She seems to have put all her focus into school and this per diem job we both work at the hospital.”

This piques his interest, and he sits up straighter in his chair, but before he can ask, I hold my hand up, refusing to tell him anything more about Liv.

“I don’t want to tell you anything more because you both need to talk first?—”

“I saw Liv today,” he interrupts. “I was with some woman from work. We, um, work together.”

I believe Dax, but I am also not naive enough to think it was a platonic relationship. At least not initially. Before ending this discussion, I give him one last piece of advice. “If you want to make a go with our girl, you will have to try harder. She fell for you that weekend. And it scares her. And she is living with so much guilt that it is suffocating her. If you care about her, then don’t stop trying.”

I look for my friends, and I can see that they are giving me the ‘what the fuck look.’ I tilt my head up in acknowledgment. I say my good-byes and head over to my friends.

After a couple of drinks, I decide to message Liv.

Emma

You will never believe who I ran into at our after-work sports bar! Jameson from Spring Break, and he wasn’t alone.

I don’t elaborate on who he wasn’t alone with. I expect to hear right back from her, questioning what I mean and who else was there, if it wasn’t blatantly obvious. Instead, I get radiosilence, so I call Liv. She answers quickly; I know she’s probably at home by now. Did I catch her before she threw on her comfy PJs, and I can’t get her to come out?

“Hey, girlie! What’s up?” I don’t give her a chance to reply. “Get dressed and meet me out. I need to dance, and you’re coming now.”

I hear her laughing on the phone, so I hope she will agree. “Yeah, I guess I could. Where are we meeting?”

And that’s all I need. I got Liv to come out. That in itself is not a small feat.

We talk about what we are wearing, and I tell her to wear something cute and sexy. Liv bursts out laughing. “Okay, so something low cut and short,” she states jokingly. “Got it.”

I scream-shout my excitement on the line. “Call me when you pull up. It’s a big club, and I’ll come out to get you.” I hang up before she can say anything else, fist-pumping the air. “Yes!” I say to no one in particular.

Liv shares her ETA with me, and I see her pull up, look at the long-ass line, and get into line at the back.

No, no, I think to myself, that just won’t do. I’m waving at Liv, screaming her name, laughing at her look of shock. I see her walk over to me at the front of the line, getting ugly looks from the girls waiting in the queue. I’m talking about death stares now. I immediately wrap her up in a hug.

“How did you get up here? The line is crazy!” she yells at me over the crowd’s noise and loud city nightlife scene. The bouncer lifts the rope, and we walk through the club doors.

“Come on. Let’s get a drink.”

I drag Liv through the crowds, not letting go of her hand once. We walk toward the bar.

“Let’s do some shots.” I place myself against the bar to get the bartender’s attention. He smiles widely.

Liv agrees, and I order two each. She tries to pay, but the bartender points to someone at the end of the bar.

“You ladies are all set.”

We take our first shot, and he immediately pours us our second one. He pushes the next shots at us, and we look at each other, shrugging.

“So. How did you get us in here?” Liv asks. I take my last shot, suck on the lime, and discard it into the now-empty shot glass on the bar.

“I took care of the guy that owns this place. Well, no, not him, but an employee. I can’t tell you much more because of patient confidentiality. I’ve probably said too much as it is. Blame it on the alcohol.” I shrug in a sorry-not-sorry manner. “He told me to come here and put me on the VIP list.” Liv takes her second shot, and I ask the bartender if this is from the owner. He raises his eyebrows at my question.

“No, it wasn’t him,” he says as he collects the glasses. “It was someone else,” his words fading away as he leaves.