Page 8 of Homesick

I pull myself back to the tiny space we’ve cleared on the dance floor. I can’t remember the last time I just carelessly danced like this. It’s moments like this when I’m yelling song lyrics and twirling my best friend around our old stomping grounds that I do miss this town.

I had a group of girls I would go out with back in Cleveland, but all those relationships felt surface-level. None of them even blinked an eye when I told them I was moving back home. It was nice to feel free and happy in this tiny bubble we’d created in the middle of the Rustic Inn.

The speaker switches over to a slow song and we give each other the look that it’s time to take a break. I follow Emma over to an empty table in the corner. The bar is still crowded, but some people have started to clear out for the night. And by some people, I mean anyone over the age of thirty-five.

I plop down next to Emma and giggle when we bump into each other. She’s switched over to water while I’m still going strong with my cocktail sitting in front of me. My gaze sweeps over the dance floor, expecting to land on Blake and his date.

I decide that I couldn’t care less if he’s here with a date. I had most certainly moved on since him . . . I’ve moved on plenty of times. It would be unfair of me to think he hasn’t done the same. I do however hope this new girl isn’t serious. Relationships are one area I hadn’t been able to master.

Emma asks if I need to use the restroom and I shake my head before sipping on my drink like a child. I should probably switch over to water soon, too. The room is starting to get a bit blurry, and I can feel my delightful buzz heading to sloppy drunk.

I mindlessly gaze at my phone until I feel a presence. I look up from my phone to find a semi-attractive boy trying to say something, but of course, I can’t hear him. He takes my confused expression as an invitation to lean over and whisper in my ear.

“Do you want to dance?” the stranger asks.

I try to think of an excuse while I search for Emma. As I’m looking toward the bathroom, I land on two familiar green eyes. This time he’s standing next to a group of guys with no date in sight. It’s hard to explain but it feels like he’s been trying to catch my attention all night. I quickly break eye contact, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting my attention twice in one night.

I refocus on the semi-attractive guy standing in front of me as I surprise myself and say, “Sure!” I grab his hand and let him pull me into the middle of the room.

I feel eyes on me, and I know exactly who they belong to. The alcohol coursing through my veins and years of resentment dare me to make him feel exactly how I did seeing another woman draped over him. I decide to fend off any rational thoughts until tomorrow. Tonight, I am allowed to be reckless. Just like he’d been reckless with my heart all those years ago.

I let the stranger pull me close before I lean into his ear and ask for his name. He responds, “it’s Adam. You’re Wren, right?”

I lean back to get a better look at him, but his face is still unfamiliar. He pulls me in close again and says, “you went to school with my older sister.” He tells me her name and I recognize it, but don’t remember her having a little brother.

Then I panic and say, “yeah, I remember her. Exactly how old are you?”

He smirks. “Relax, I just turned twenty-one. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were always too far up Blake Fisher’s ass to notice anyone else. I was surprised to hear you two broke up, but it worked out for me though.”

The small mention of Blake brings me back to the eyes I felt on me earlier, but when I look to see if he’s still standing in the corner, he’s gone. I suddenly feel the need to escape this man’s arms immediately.

“Oh yeah, that was years ago though. We were just kids,” I laugh nervously. “Will you excuse me? I need to go find my friend.”

Adam lets me go and I’m grateful he didn’t try to get me to stay. I know how to deal with guys who can’t take the hint, but I’m feeling extra vulnerable tonight, and I’m not in the mood to put someone in their place.

I push my way through the sea of people back to the table where I was waiting for Emma. She’s still there, but she looks pissed. She motions outside and based on her body language, I can tell she’s ready to leave. I follow her out to the side porch of the bar and as soon as we escape the craziness of what’s inside, she turns and faces me.

“I thought we were supposed to hang out tonight and you ditch me to go dance with some random guy? I know seeing Blake again must be tough, but at least give me a heads up,” Emma says, crossing her arms in disappointment.

“It wasn’t a big deal. I was gone for like five minutes,” I argue, brushing off her feelings. I understand why she’s upset but I feel the need to defend my actions in my drunken state.

My response puts her on edge.

“Wasn’t a big deal? You know what? I don’t feel like doing this right now. Let’s go.”

After an entire day of feeling like I can’t do anything right, I cement myself in place.

“I’m staying here. I’ll call my brother and see if he can pick me up.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” she deadpans.

“Well, I’m not ready to leave,” I argue.

I see her eyes dart back and forth, debating her next move. Finally, she shrugs in defeat and says “fine, have it your way.”

And just like that, Emma leaves me alone on the Rustic Inn porch. I feel like I want to cry after the rollercoaster of a day I’d had, but I take a deep breath and take out my cellphone. My lock screen is completely clear, void of any texts from my so-called friends back in the city. I had scared my only real friend off.

I push my feelings aside for the time being and navigate to my brother’s contact before pausing as my thumb hovers over the call button. I’m still irritated with him for earlier and I’m afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret. I swallow my pride and press call, not wanting to bother my poor dad this late at night.