Where Promises Must Glide

20 - Theo/Juliette

We finally found a good spot to sit and enjoy our ice cream under the only warm night of the Virginian fall. Juliette's mom finally arrived to come pick up Ophelia—who was not excited to be parted away.

"Grammy can Theo come home with us and watch tv?" She begged, pouting her lip. It has been an action she has been performing for the hours since I've told her her grandma was going to be picking her up soon.

Her grandma shook her head, laughing. "No, sweetie. It's almost bed time and mommy is going to be home late tonight."

That immediately caught my attention. "Where did she go?" I ask a little to quickly than I should have. I knew as it was coming out that I should have not said it, but I couldn't stop myself.

Her mom gave me a sly look. "She went out with her friends," she explained. She picked up Ophelia, waving goodbye, and the second I watched her gray Nissan pull out of the parking lot, i forgot I was even attached to my body.

All my next moves were so sudden. First I pulled out my phone, and noticed that I still had my location shared with Juliette, while I still had hers. It gave me an address for a night club, and I was begging to whatever god out there that the location was wrong.

I hopped in my truck, and drove as fast as I could, probably breaking so many laws.

~~
Juliette

"I need another drink," I yelled over the loud music that was blasting in my ears. The club was humid and packed with people, and everyone was drunk or high or probably both. My friends waved me off, Annabel was halfway to drunk, and was getting felt up by this random guy we met who was apart of a group of friends.

Ilexia was having an intellectual conversation over the loud music with a girl she met, who she has been dragging along since we bar hopped from Illexia's favorite gay club—which was about three clubs/bars ago.

Monique was keeping a watchful eye of everyone, while swaying her hips to the upbeat tempo of the music. Everyone was smiling and laughing, and I was trying to do the same. But there is a reason I was known for pregaming  the hardest before we went out, it was because I hated every second of it.

"Hey beautiful, mind if I buy you a drink?" A guy offered the second I sat on the stool that surrounded the crowded bar. He had a wide-toothy smile, and piercing blue eyes. His face reminded me of my ex's, round with a small amount of stubble to suffice.

I gave him a smile. "Sure," I reply, which causes his smile to grow even wider. He waved over the bartender, and told him to put the beer I ordered on his tab. Adding a grin, I got up to walk away—thanking him for the beer. But he wasn't ready for me to leave.

Im not very familiar with bar etiquette, given I barely go to one. So when he told me to come back, I did. "You don't just get a free drink, and I don't get at least a conversation," he said. Maybe it wasn't so bad, he was just asking for a simple conversation—which I don't mind engaging in.

"So are you from here," he began.

I nodded, sipping my beer. "Yes," I say not giving him much details. "How about you?"

"Visiting some family, decided to go out with a couple of old buds," he replied.

I kept nodding, not very good in small talk. "So where are you from?" I asks to satisfy the flow of the conversation.

"New York. Lived in Virginia my whole life, moved to NY for college, and continued to live there—only leaving to see my family," he explained.

Another nod. "That's nice. I've been to New York a couple of times: good pizza." That caused a laugh out of him.

"Maybe next time you go we can go out some time?" He said with a smirk. But I wasn't very interested in the man. He wasn't giving me any interest to find in him, except for a city and small background. So I entertained the concept of a conversation.

"Maybe," I shrug. "So what do you do for work?"

"I work as a marketing consultant," he explained, going into brief detail about his work, and honestly I was just studying his features. The twitch in his lips, and the way he scowls for no reason sometimes. The glistening ocean eyes, and beach blonde hair.

"What about you?" He asks, he became a little touchy as we started talking more. Hand on the shoulder, hand on my hand. Foot grazing one another. Innocent at first, but now he started getting gutsy as his drink finished. His hand traveled to my thigh, and I didn't know what to say.

"An ice skater," I blurt out.

And I swear I must have been imagining this, because he laughed. Like a full on laugh. "No like seriously, what do you do?" He was wiping a lose tear from his eyes, as if I told him the funniest comedic joke in the world. Like suddenly I became Carrot Top and was performing a personal show for him.

"I told you, ice skating," I reiterated, slightly annoyed.

"So you do the little twirls on the ice as a real job? Are you even any good? I mean how do you make money?" He kept asking questions that requires more than one beer. And not just that, but he was also squeezing my thigh in the process.

"I think I should go, thank you for the beer," I say in an attempt to get up. I think all the spiked lemonades were a bad idea, because I was more tipsy than I imagined as I stood up.

"Where the hell are you going?" He said, agitated. "Are you seriously butt hurt from a little joke? Maybe if you had a real job, you'd know that in the real world you can't be all sensitive."

I was waiting for the insults. Every guy does it. Whenever you reject them, suddenly your some skanky slut who is a bitch and an ugly whore—all in one. But that's because they can't take rejections. This one was no different.

"Look thanks for the beer but I should really head home," I explain, looking around for my friends. What happened to girl code? And like the buddy system? They know they can't leave me alone at a bar or I'd probably have a panic attack.

"Woah, woah, woah," the guy digs his fingers into mg wrist as I make it through some back door. "Where they hell are you going?!"

The drunk me was talking now. "I really need to find my friends." I sounded so pathetic. How was I going to find them out here? I don't fucking know, but it was easier than being in there. The feeling of the cold water droplets on my skin was bringing goosebumps to the surface of my arms.

But the guy was not letting go. "You are so bitch, you know that!" He yelled, red was painted on his face like I'd insulted his whole bloodline.

"Let her fucking go or I'll break off every finger touching her right now," a grit of a voice spoke, and I'd never been happier to hear it before. Familiarity took over as Theo stepped closer, practically in the guys face.

"Don't touch her or I will make you fucking regret it."