Chapter 16

The city is cold at night. The air bites at my exposed face, and I begin to regret storming out without a jacket...or a plan. The colder it gets, the more I crave the warmth of sitting next to Lucy.

No, I chastise myself. I've gotten us into enough trouble by thinking about her when I shouldn't be.

I suppose maybe I should find a different hotel, or, at the very least, a different room. I don't want to be around her any more than she wants to be around me. I think it would hurt too bad to see her. I can't get her voice out of my mind. Her tearful eyes as she admitted to me why this is so hard. I think I finally get it, but somehow, I wish I didn't.

Charlotte is beautiful after dark. That much I have to admit. It was probably beautiful during the day too, but I was too focused on Lucy to notice. The buildings reflect the moonlight. They remind me of Lucy's eyes.

No, stop.

The grass rustles in the wind. The blades brush together, like the bouncing curls of Lucy's hair.

NO.

She's everywhere, in everything.

I can't for the life of me fathom why I got so attached so quickly. This has never happened to me before, and I'm at a loss for how to fix it.

I think that's the hardest part about this. There's nothing to fix. I can't fix something that hasn't happened yet. My adversary is fear. I can't beat fear.

The streets are bustling with late-night chatter, couples leaving bars and businessmen leaving office buildings. Loud music vibrates through the air, coming from any and every restaurant within a ten-mile radius.

There's a cart on the sidewalk where a man is selling magazines, snacks, and cigarettes. A young couple is happily arguing over which chips to buy.

The woman has long, brown curls. She's smiling ear-to-ear at the man she's with as he tries tirelessly to convince her that cheddar chips are the only real option. She's laughing at him. They look so easy together, so simple. I wonder what makes them any different from Lucy and me.

Maybe the girl hasn't had her heart broken. Maybe the boy knows when to quit.

Maybe they just got lucky.

That's it, I tell myself. No more thinking about Lucy.

It should be easy enough to distract myself in such a big, exciting city. Maybe I could go shopping for a souvenir for Betty, or maybe I could find a nice cafe to sit down in with a cup of coffee and prepare for my interview tomorrow afternoon.

I decide to wander until something catches my eye and observe the scenery in the meantime. I people-watch, amused by the college students already out drinking the night away. I was never much of a party animal in college. Sometimes I wonder if I missed out on the college experience by putting all of my time and effort into my grades.

Somehow, with that thought in mind, I find myself drifting into a dive bar downtown. It's still early, but the place is already packed. Voices ring out over the roaring music and I can already feel myself regretting the decision to come here.

But, hey, maybe it's time to let loose and make some bad choices.

I make my way to the stools at the bar and greet the bartender—a middle-aged brunette woman—with a smile.

"What can I get you?" she asks pleasantly, screwing the top back onto a bottle.

It occurs to me that I don't know what to order. I don't really drink much and when I do, it's just whatever's around. I've never had to prove my alcoholic competence before.

The bartender seems to notice me struggling because she laughs and offers helpfully, "You want a beer, sweetie?"

I feel about three feet tall, but nod with a sheepish smile.

"Alright, beer it is. Got an ID I can check?"

Again, I nod and pull my driver's license from my wallet. She studies it for a moment and hums in approval, pouring my drink while I shove the card back into its rightful place.

"So, what brings you in tonight?" she asks as she hands over the foaming beer.

"Thank you." I gratefully accept the drink and take a sip, wincing at the sour taste. I swallow thickly and look up at the woman, who seems entirely too amused. "Girl troubles," I finally respond. "And airport troubles. And family troubles. And job troubles."

She inhales sharply through her teeth. "Yeah, that'll do it." She leans against the counter and props her chin against her fist. "Well, let's see," she begins thoughtfully. "Can't fix the airport troubles. Probably not the job troubles either. I'm not very good when it comes to families, so I guess that leaves your girl issues, and you just so happen to be in luck, because that's my specialty."

Oh, great, I think. I came here to forget about Lucy, and now I have to talk about her. It occurs to me, though, that maybe an objective female perspective on the situation might be good.Just as long as Lucy never finds out because she would kill me for talking about our drama with a stranger. Luckily, Lucy isn't here.

"There's this girl I knew back in college. She was a hothead and downright stubborn, but she was passionate, you know? We bickered a lot and just rubbed each other up the wrong way. We parted ways after I left the class we shared together and I never really thought about her again. But then, because my life is one big, celestial joke, she had the seat next to mine on my flight yesterday. We reconnected, one thing led to another, and we...well, we got pretty close last night. I really enjoyed it and I thought she did too, but today, she wants nothing to do with me. Well, that's not true. She does, but only for about five minutes at a time and then she changes her mind. I'm just confused, and it sucks because I think I really like her, but she has this shitty idea of me in her head that I don't think I can fix."

The bartender purses her lips and seems to think for a moment.

"Well, what have you tried to fix so far?"

What have I done to try to fix it? Good question.

"Um, let's see...I talked to her. And then—er—I talked to her some more. And then…" I grimace. "And then I decided that it would be best if I ended it. For her. I don't think I can be what she needs right now... But I think I regret it. I didn't give us a chance, maybe we could be great together you know?"

"Oh…" The woman reels back with a frown. "Yeah, that's not so good, kid. She can make her own mind up if she wants you, if you want her you should tell her. Don't make the decision for her"

"Yeah, you're telling me." I scoff and take another long sip of my drink. I really do not like the taste of beer.

"Let me give you some advice," the woman proposes. "Most of the time, a problem needs to be fixed with actions, not words. You can say you're sorry and you don't mean it. but she has no way of knowing whether you meant it. If you show her, though, maybe you just might have a shot."

I perk up at that little piece of wisdom. This whole time, Lucy has been telling me that she can't trust me. It never occurred to me that I hadn't given her a reason to trust me.

"And I would do that by…" I prompt hopefully, making the woman chuckle. She removes the nearly untouched pint in front of me and pours it out.

"A good place to start might be to stop hiding from her. And if you're gonna hide from her, don't do it in a bar. You're just punishing yourself here, hon."

"You"re right," I admit, pushing myself off of the barstool. "I have to go see her." I start to walk away but pause and turn back. "Thank you so much...I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

The woman smiles, the corners of her brown eyes crinkling.

"It's Lucy."

Well, if that isn't fate's way of telling me that I'm doing the right thing…