Page 10 of Not Until Her
“I won’t do Taylor Swift. Anything else is on the table.”
I gasp, a look of horror filling my face. There goes my game plan.
“What’s wrong with Taylor Swift?”
“What’s not?” She smiles, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m actually horrified. “But we’ll start with how overplayed she is. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve been forced to listen to people squeal the words toShake It Off. Grown men think that choice is hilarious.”
I’ll let that slide. Any song is annoying if you hear it too much, and I can go the rest of this night pretending that’s her only problem with one of my favorite artists. My normal, overzealous defense will just dampen the mood.
We sweet-talk our way to be up next, mostly because Vic was signed up multiple times. I get a little sass from her for choosing Bailey as my first partner, but again I tell her I’ll make it up to her.
Bailey choosesMr. Brightside, and I somehow manage to refrain from making a comment. It’s not a bad choice, but she wanted to talk about songs that are overplayed?
It’s a cute moment, when the music starts. We look at each other and smile, feeling the rush of a bunch of random, pregnant womens’ eyes on us.
Not that being pregnant is a relevant fact about our audience, but I haven’t been able to forget it.
The second Bailey starts singing, I look away from her and hold back a cringe. She’s one ofthose. She’s trying really hard, not matching the pitch for a single second. You know when you can tell someone was told they had a beautiful voice as a child? And then they roll with it for the rest of their lives, and sing like they have to prove that’s still true? Even when it isn’t?
Yeah.
I sing louder than I normally would, just enough to fill my own ears. To keep everything else out.
It only works half the time.
I still enjoy myself, and when all is done I can’t stop smiling.
“Holy shit,” Bailey yells. “You’re a literal star.”
I wave her off.
“Yeah, right. I’m just having fun.”
“Everyone in the world wishes that their version ofjust having funsounded that good.”
“Reya!” Vic’s voice reaches me before her hand wraps around my arm. “It’s our turn. Get back up there.”
I give Bailey an apologetic smile, but I’m not that sorry. This is going to be good.
I made out with Bailey. A lot.
It was almost more, but I thought that would’ve really upset the Uber driver.
More than we already had. The poor thing was so uncomfortable.
I insisted that Vic should head home without me, and that was her compromise. She would only leave without me if she could get me an Uber. Bailey was already planning to take one home, so there was an added stop.
Her apartment was much closer to the bar, and I pouted when we reached it. She tried convincing me to go inside with her, but I found some scrap of self control to tell her I couldn’t.
We exchanged numbers. We’ll see how things go.
I had fun, but I know we’re not a love match or anything. A couple hours of talking quickly let me know that we don’t have anything in common. They say opposites attract and all that, but there’s no way I could show serious interest in someone who hates Taylor Swift that much.
It goes way deeper than the cringey old men at karaoke night. She’s really got something against her, and I think hating on successful women for no good reason is a red flag. That’s all.
I don’t think I got drunk, I don’t have a hangover. Then again, I always chug a glass of water before bed so that probably helped. All I woke up with was the need to pee, which is exactly why I got into the habit. If my full bladder isn’t going to pull me out of bed, nothing is.
I pull a t-shirt over my head as I walk out of my bathroom, and head for my kitchen.