Birthday Girl

And now we’re not mad at each other anymore.

Taking the shot, I down it, the alcohol going down like a piece of candy, and while it tastes fine, I’m not sure what the point is. There can’t be enough alcohol in it to feel anything.

I’m sure it will be a successful running joke if I ever decide to join the guys for a drink again, though.

After about an hour and another beer, the crowd has thinned a little, and I’m pretty tapped out on 80’s music. Jordan seems fine, and I’m not sure why I thought she needed protecting.

I should just hit the road.

But just then, a Corona appears in front of me, and I look up, seeing Jordan standing over me.

“Hey,” she says, her expression soft and gentle.

I’m sure it would be like that all the time if I would just stop fucking with it.

“You doing okay, sugar?” Dutch asks her.

She glances at him and smiles and then looks back down at me. “I was going to call you, actually,” she tells me, lowering her voice. “I don’t know if you’re staying late, but I was wondering if there was any way you could bring me home tonight. I don’t get off until two. Is that too late?”

Her eyes are apologetic like she’s afraid she’s being an inconvenience, but of course, I told her to tell me if she needs a ride home. I’m happy to do it.

“No problem. I’ll be here.”

But Dutch nudges my elbow. “We gotta be at the site by five a.m., just remember.”

“It’s fine,” I say curtly, barely looking at him.

Of course, I’d love to get more than a couple hours of sleep, but this isn’t a choice.

Jordan takes a step back. “Are you sure?” she asks again. “I could ask Shel. It’s a little out of her way, but I don’t want you losing sleep.”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “I’ll be here.”

“Well, why don’t you just give her your keys?” Dutch speaks up. “I’ll drop you at home, and she can have your truck. I’m getting out of here soon anyway.”

Mother— What is his goddamn problem?

But Jordan rushes in, making her apologies. “No, no, it’s okay. I can—”

“Fuck, I said it was fine,” I blurt out, shutting everyone up. Then I glare at Dutch. “Would you shut up?”

He turns away, pursing his lips, because he wants to fucking smile like he knows something.

Everyone is still for a moment, and I shake my head, pulling my keys out of my pocket. There’s no logical reason to wait around for her if Dutch is offering me a ride now.

I hand her the keys. “Here you go. It works out perfectly.”

“Are you—”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I tell her. “It’s fine.”

She slides the keys into her pocket. “Thank you.”

“Truck’s parked just around the corner.”

She nods and heads back to the bar, glancing back at me once. I check my phone, seeing it’s nearly midnight, and if Dutch is giving me a ride, I’d rather get it over with now.

I take a long swig from the Corona, drinking about half. It didn’t escape my notice that she remembered what beer I like, too. Pulling some money out, I toss a few bills on the table for whatever I drank and tell Dutch, “Let’s go.”