I hadn’t eaten yet, so I unloaded the scooter and headed to Nacho’s Bar for food and a beer. Maybe after, I could take a nice relaxing walk on the sand. I worried that I'd bump into Thuong, but it was nearly time for his curfew. Also I figured a bar was an unlikely place for him to be.
A light fog had rolled in, dropping the temperature. I was glad for my sweater and jacket as I rode. I wondered whether Thuong had warm clothing—especially since he started work in the wee hours. The next time we talked, I’d ask Minerva discreetly. If Thuong needed winter gear, I could send it to her, and she could pass it on without saying who it was from.
I parked the scooter in front of the bar and took off my helmet. As I opened the door to enter, the scent of beer, grilled meat, and fry oil hit me like a fist. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until my mouth started watering. My stomach growled with longing.
The hostess asked to seat me, but I headed to the bar. It looked like the DJ playing was popular dance tunes. People thronged the dance floor. The bartender shot me a pleasant smile as he poured ny beer into a frosted glass.
“Have I seen you in here before?” he asked.
“Maybe?” He was somewhere in his late middle age with sharp eyes in a pleasant face. If we’d met before, I didn’t remember him. “I was here Labor Day weekend.”
He nodded. “That was a crush, but it’s always a mess over a holiday weekend.”
“It’s obvious why. This is a great place.” My stomach gave another complaint. “Is there a bar menu?”
“Sure. Here.” He handed over a laminated card with appetizers printed on it. “If you want anything from the regular menu, I can get it for you, no problem.”
“Thank you.”
He came back a couple minutes later with chips and salsa. I ordered carne asada street tacos and some guacamole. Behind me, a new song came on and a cheer went up from a big group in the corner.
I turned to watch them—a group of college age kids—get up todance. About ten people, equally divided between men and women. They formed a knot and bounced with their arms draped over each other’s shoulders, mostly just jumping in place to the driving beat of an EDM hit I recognized but couldn’t exactly place. Some looked wasted. Others simply looked happy and tired, as if they were ready to call it a night.
I froze when I recognized Thuong among them. He must have had seriously honed situational awareness, because at the same time he glanced up and caught me watching him. The shock of recognition crossed his features, then anger visibly narrowed his eyes. He checked his phone as he crossed the room.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
My first response was defensive. “I’m drinking a beer. Is that okay with you?”
“I mean in St. Nacho’s. Jesus, are you spying on me?”
“Of course not.” How could I have known he’d be in a bar just minutes before his curfew? “I came in here to eat something. I didn’t know you were here. How could I?”
That didn’t seem to satisfy him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming. Why not?”
“You said you needed space.”
He stared at me as though he had no idea what to do. A couple of his friends came over.
“Something wrong, T?” The girl who asked was a pretty blonde beach bunny wearing a crop top and leggings with a Roxy sweatshirt. “Don’t you need to get back before nine?”
He turned to her. “Yeah. Mind giving me a lift?”
“No problem. I have to get back to study anyway.”
“Thuong,” I said. “Wait a minute.”
He turned to me without any warmth. “What?”
“I didn't plan this, but it's good to see you.” I moved closer to put things back on an even keel between us. “Really good.”
He rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
I brushed the hair hanging in his face behind his ear while I thought about what to say. "I'm just passing through."
“Why?"
"I came for the waters." Quoting Casablanca never hurt anybody.
"Right.” He huffed. “And you’re not going straight to Minerva to tell her you saw me in a bar.”
“That’s right. I’m not.” Did he really think I was there to snitch? “You’d better go. Have a nice night.”
He nodded then turned away. As I watched him go, I tried not to worry whether he'd been drinking. I tried not to think about how happy he’d been until he’d seen me, or how he’d reacted like a poked hedgehog and tried to roll away. I tried not to wonder about the blonde.
Was he bi?
Was Suzanne right?
Had he been playing me?
When my food came, it tasted like wood shavings except for the salsa, which delivered the smoky goodness of chipotle chilis before catching my tongue on fire. I didn’t have a second beer. I was tired enough that when I rode back to the motel it took all my concentration.
Inside my room, I yanked the bedspread and blankets away and flopped onto the bed with a whump.
Maybe I’d seriously erred in coming. What did they say about the road to hell?
Paved with good intentions.
I should have called Echo and run this past her beforehand.
Instead, I spent the night awake, worrying I’d made a huge mistake.
Chapter Twenty-Four
St. Nacho’s, Day 25
Goddamnit! Why did Luke have to show up? I know I’m starting to feel too comfortable. I shouldn’t have been at the bar. I didn’t do anything wrong, but I was already feeling guilty, and then I looked up and saw Luke staring at me from across the bar with his goddamn shush, you’re in the library face.
Why is he even here?
Just because I have a little responsibility, and I’m enjoying a little freedom, does he think he needs to supervise my whole life?
I already think about him too much.
I already spend my time wondering whether what I’m doing will make him proud, whether he’ll ever look at me like I’m a normal person instead of an addict on the brink of failure, so of course, he walks in when I’m hanging out in a goddamn bar.
I didn’t imagine the look of disappointment on his face.
I know how concerned he is for me, but he’s not my goddamn sponsor. He doesn’t get to give me shade about my choices, not even if I fuck up.
It’s my goddamn life.
It’s my goddamn recovery.
I know what I’m doing.
Tug
Minerva wasn’t in Rune Nation when I got there the next morning, but her pierced, prickly assistant, Muse, was happy to take charge of the scooter for Thuong.
It might not be Thuong’s style, but I could tell Muse loved the old Vespa. Chloe had insisted on the ice-blue model and a matching helmet, which had been fun and fresh at the time. The scooter still had Fall Out Boy and One Direction stickers on the fender.
“Oh my God, it’s sorority retro,” she said. “Did I see it parked on the street by Nacho’s Bar last night?”
“Yeah. That was me.” I gave her a playful nudge. “It’s kind of a kick to ride. I’ve got a helmet if you want to try it out.”