Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
I still remember Grams talking to her friend at the grocery store a few days after that. She’d told the woman “wisdom is chasing Mia, but she’s faster.”
It made me laugh, even though I knew Grams was making fun of me.
I smile at the memory and put my hand on the door. Mostly, I think I’m just trying to decide what I’m going to do if Nolan follows me here. But that should be simple. I can just ignore him. Yeah. Simple as that.
My pounding heart says it’s not as simple as I’m making it out to be, but I yank the door open and head inside the pleasant warmth and noise of the bar.
I spot Paisley at one of the back tables. She got dressed up, too, and her blonde hair is down. I’m so used to seeing her with it pulled back at work that I can’t help bulging my eyes a little. “Wow!” I say, having to raise my voice over the guy singing at the back of the bar. It’s definitely karaoke. “Hair down? You look so good!”
Paisley strikes a little pose, then laughs and pushes a beer towards me. “Was beer okay? I ordered for you. Sorry.”
“Beer is great. Thank you. I’ll get the next round.”
“Did you invite anyone else?” I ask.
“Um, no? You’re like my only friend here,” she laughs. “I said ‘we’ when I told you I was going to be here so I didn’t sound pathetic in front of Mr. Saulters. Sorry. I mean, Zander is a friend, I guess, or whatever. But it’s kind of awkward with him. And Edgar is Edgar.”
“You feel awkward with Zander? Why?”
She brushes my question off, shaking her head and sipping her drink. “He’s our boss. That’s all.”
“Right. Well, I hope you don’t mind that I invited two of my friends. I was excited for them to meet you. I hope that’s okay.”
“Okay?” she asks. “It’s awesome.” She leans closer, tucking a stray blonde hair behind her ear and smiling like she’s about to let me in on a secret. “Last night, my idea of fun was Facetiming my mom so we could watch Survivor together. Virtually. Her thumb was covering the camera half the time and she fell asleep after ten minutes. So, yeah, I could definitely stand to meet some people here,” she says.
Andi and Caroline eventually join us and we all take turns getting rounds for the table, minus Andi, of course. Eventually, Caroline talks us into getting up for karaoke. Of the four of us, Caroline has the best voice. Andi is the funniest, because she sings the entirety of “Let it Go,” from Frozen with a bad British accent. I’m just close enough to being good but still not being good that it probably makes everyone uncomfortable when I sing. I try to make up for it by picking a short song and getting off the stage quickly. Paisley, for some reason, picks a death metal song and screeches into the microphone while banging her head. She’s booed and urged off the stage within seconds, but we’re all laughing.
The beers I’ve had make it all seem hilarious, even though it’s probably not nearly half as funny as I think. As we’re scooting back into our booth and laughing, I’m thinking that Paisley is going to fit right in with our friend group.
I hear a familiar voice from the microphone and look up.
“Oh my God,” Caroline says, leaning over her drink and laughing. “Is that who I think it is?”
I look at the stage and see Marten, my ex boyfriend who decided to come harass me at work. He’s holding a microphone, and he must’ve started his night at a few other bars, because the sleepy look in his eyes and slur in his voice tells me he’s already several drinks deep.
“I think he’s looking at you,” Andi says. “He’s trying to woo you, Mia. Maybe this will be romantic?”
“No,” I say. “He’s not that desperate.”
But then he lifts his free hand and points at me, swaying his hips as he sings some sappy love song.
“Oh, God,” I say, shielding my eyes and lowering my head. “He’s that desperate.”
“Nobody ever sings me sappy love songs,” Paisley says.
“Count your blessings,” I say.
“He has a pretty good voice,” Caroline adds, as if that matters. “Not sure about that little pelvic thrust he keeps doing though. See how small those thrusts are? I feel like it’s kind of his muscle memory telling us that he has a small penis. Or else wouldn’t those thrusts be deeper? Care to confirm or deny my theory, Mia?”
I cover my face. “No comment. But what is he doing?” I ask. “He was mad when we broke up, but he never gave off creepy ex vibes.”
“Well,” Andi says, tilting her head in his direction. “People clearly change. He’s creeping so hard right now I can smell it.”