The Enemy (It Happened in Charleston 2)
“Good!” June rips the mic from the stand and paces. She actually looks pretty natural up there. “‘Cause we’re gonna party ALL NIGHT!”
No, we won’t. The bar closes in thirty minutes.
“But first”—her eyes cut right to me for the first time since the beginning of the night when I removed the toilet paper from her shoe —“I want to introduce you all to my friend, Ryan Henderson!! Come on up here, Chefy!!”
I should have known she had something planned. What does she think will happen? I’ll go up there and she will stick the mic in my hand and trick me into singing and embarrassing myself in front of everyone? Apparently, she doesn’t realize that she’s about four more drinks in than me.
I smile and shake my head no at her, trying not to make a big scene.
June stumble-sways to the right before catching the mic stand to balance herself again. “Oh, come on, don’t be a party pooper, Mr. Darcy!!” It makes me laugh that June still calls me Mr. Darcy. She’s been doing it ever since I tried to keep my best friend away from her best friend in junior high, aka “pulling a Darcy.”
The bar erupts with drunken encouragement. A striking redhead in a revealing dress sidles up next to me and wraps her arm around mine. “I’ll go up there with you if you’re shy.” Yeah, no.
I extract my arm and look back up to meet June’s seething expression. Seething that I’m not budging or because of the pretty redhead?
“Sorry. Not gonna happen,” I call out, trying to settle the crowd.
“Go on, Ryan! Sing with June,” Stacy yells after returning from the bathroom and planting herself on Logan’s lap.
But June doesn’t want to sing with me. This is all a part of the war she started back up tonight. She’s looking for a way to humiliate me. To knock me down a few notches. And even though I came here intending to bury our old feud, seeing her again makes me want to play along. I loved dueling with June back in the day. It felt like flirting back then, and it feels like it now. So, I’ll join her battle, but I won’t play by her rules.
Game on, June Bug.
I lock eyes with June and take off my jacket with a smirk. Her smile falters as I walk toward the stage, because she can’t believe how easily she has won this round.
The back of my neck heats from the bright lights as I approach the stage, and she takes a step back. I don’t bother with the stairs and, instead, take one big step up—directly in front of June. She looks like a trapped animal now. She’s sensing danger. I walk closer and take her by surprise when I wrap my jacket around her tiny shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asks, looking down dramatically to the jacket. Her mind is moving too slow to figure out what’s happening.
“It’s cold outside, and I don’t want you to freeze when we leave.” I put my arm around her, escorting her from the stage. The second we are off the stairs, she rips away from me and stumbles backward.
“Don’t touch me. Everyone wants a performance, and if you’re too good to sing at karaoke night, then I’ll do it!” It’s adorable how powerful she thinks she looks right now. I could pick her up off the ground by my index finger and thumb and place her in my pocket.
“You can perform next time. Tonight, I’m taking you home.”
“Ugh! I’m not going anywhere with you!” is what I think she was trying to say. But really, it came out like, “Himenotgonnanywerewiffuuu!!”
“Right. Yell at me in the car. Can you remember your address?” I say, pulling her toward the table where Stacy and Logan are watching with confused expressions. They’re trying to figure out what new game this is, too.
I toss Alex’s phone back onto the table in front of him and retrieve June’s heels. Stacy beams up at us as we walk past her. “BYE, JUNIE! I love you SO much.”
No one will remember this night tomorrow.
“I’m not going with him!” June tries to pull out of my hand, but I don’t let her. I think she’s seconds away from passing out on the ground, and I care about her too much to let her catch Ebola. Also, Izod Man has been eyeing her all night, and I don’t trust him one bit. This bar crawl is officially over.
“LOVE YOU, RYAN!” Can you guess who yells that at me right before I leave the bar? Yeah, it’s Logan. Apparently, I’m not the only one who shouldn’t be drinking heavily in his thirties.
“Night, everyone. Logan, call an Uber,” I say before I scoop June up in my arms and carry her out of the bar as she kicks and yells the whole way.
Chapter Four
Ryan
I somehow get June into my car with no one calling the cops on me. It’s a miracle, considering the way she’s been yelling ABDUCTION at the top of her lungs all the way from the bar to the parking lot. Thankfully, at two in the morning on a Sunday night, the only people awake on the streets are homeless or completely hammered—or both. But I think my waving and smiling to everyone we paraded past sort of lessened their suspicion that anything nefarious was taking place.
Now, we are in the car. I start it, June jumps out and I have to sprint after her to get her back in the passenger seat, and when we are once again situated, I buckle her up and hit the child locks. I choose not to worry about how much this truly looks like abduction now. But I’m doing it for her own good. Wait, do psychopaths say that, too?
I look over at three-sheets-to-the-wind June and wonder if she always drinks this much. But somehow, I know the answer is no (probably because she was already tipsy halfway through her first one). I think I’m the reason for her over-indulgence tonight, and I want to find out why.