Page 66 of Don't Tell Me How It Ends
“Yes!”
She places our order and the bartender leans in close, usingthe deafening acoustics as an excuse to put his lips up against her ear. My fist is ready to educate him on the meaning of consent, but before I can get us escorted out of here, Liv throws her head back in laughter.
Not the reaction I’d expected, but actually, I have no clue who this man is to her.
Maybe they’re friends. Maybe he’s friends with her boyfriend. Because Liv has a boyfriend now. One that I’m only just now meeting.
A few years ago, she wouldn’t have even been able to craft a text to a guy without screenshotting the conversations for my input, but here and now,I’mthe odd man out. In this place, we’re not theLiv and Kaiaof years past. And if I’m being honest, we haven’t been those girls for a long time.
“Travis left his tab open for us,” Liv says, picking our shots up off the sticky metal bar. “Fritz here says he’s been instructed to get us good and drunk.”
“How sweet,” I joke. But as the high-quality tequila spreads its warmth through my rattled insides, I realize Travis getting us shmammered tonight may, in fact, be the sweetest thing after all.
The bartender slams down two more and Liv screams her appreciation. She seems free in this new world that I know very little about. It’s so easy for her to let go here, and inthat,at least, I see the appeal.
Liv closes the small gap between us, grabbing both my shoulders to drag my body along with hers, as she does what can only be described as a full body thrashing. Her headbanging is new, but her smile is the same one I’ve known forever and draws one out of me the way it always has.
Fueled by the music, the liquor, and the promise of a much-needed night out with one of the great loves of my life, I join Liv—in the shot, the dance, and the ensuing scream. And thistime, when I survey the club once more, my head finds the rhythm of this new song I’ve never heard before.
—
When Liv eyes Travis and his bandmates walking toward us, she runs into his arms like he’s a soldier, returning from war. The two of them making out is a car wreck I cannot look away from, though I really,reallywish I could. I’m still trying to figure out whose tongue is whose, when my phone vibrates in my bag.
10:01pm
Ro:Liv get you onstage yet?
Ro:Did you wear the chaps?
Me:I’m beginning to suspect you’ve never actually heard rock music.
Ro:No yeehaw?
Me:Remind me to bring you next time so we can update your visual.
Ro:You could’ve brought me tonight.
My conversation’s interrupted by Liv making introductions. She’s still wiping her lipstick from Travis’s face when he acknowledges me for the first time.
“Hey,” he says, his tone so casual it borders on bored. Luckily, I’ve seen enough of his online presence not to take it personally. “Thanks for coming out.”
But before I can quip that my only act of free will tonight came in liquid form, Liv’s shouting again. “I thought you guys would be getting ready to go on by now.”
“Evan needed a few minutes in the greenroom,” Travis says, dragging Liv toward him by her pants pockets. “He had to work something out with the manager.”
The band laughs as someone says under their breath, “Yeah, he’s working her out, all right.”
“This place is packed.” My attempt to move on from a joke clearly not meant for me is clumsy. “You guys play here a lot?”
“Every Saturday,” one of the guys says. “Ev got us the gig.”
“Nice,” I say, trying to ignore the fact that Liv and Travis are going at it again. “This is my first real concert.”
“I can tell,” a husky voice says from behind me.
Holy hot.
“Evan!” Liv squeals, anchored by Travis’s arm still wrapped around her waist. “This is the friend I was telling you about.”
