The Tree Remembers

Pick Your Poison

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"If you don't stop grabbing me, I'm going to replace you guys with a new band," I snapped, smacking Eric's hands away. He groaned and rolled his eyes.

"When are you going to quit being such a cocktease?" he asked, running his hand through his hair and smirking at me.

"When you grow a brain," I sniped. He glared at me, and I was about to yell at him some more when I was interrupted.

"I don't think that's any way to speak to a lady," the voice said. I bristled and refused to turn around. Eric glared at the person behind me.

"Who are you?" he asked. I knew who it was, but I was desperate for it not to be the case.

"Just a friend who wants to make sure this pretty lady is respected," the voice replied back. I buried my nose in my clipboard. I knew he wanted me to look at him. He wanted me to turn around and thank him for saving me from the big, burly man who was disrespecting me. Even though I was handling him.

"Go get on stage, Eric," I snapped, pointing to his band. He groaned but finally stalked off. I took a breath, steeling myself, and attempted to turn the other direction. I was unlucky as Eddie sidestepped in front of me, grinning down at me.

"Hey, Belle," he said, his eyes crinkling.

"It's Elle, Mr. Munson," I snapped, annoyed with him. I looked at him and got even more annoyed. He looked good. His shirt was tight, and he was showing off the tattoos that I used to admire from afar in high school. It looks like he had gotten more in the two years he was gone. He held out his hand.

"For you, pretty lady," he said, holding the glass of whiskey out. I sighed and made my face neutral. Eric and his band finally started to the cheers of the audience.

"I don't drink whiskey, Mr. Munson," I replied, my tone cold. His smile grew.

"You don't? What's your poison?"

"I don't see any situation in which that information would be pertinent to you," I said. I felt those awful remnants boil up when he tilted his chin up and leaned close to me. I could smell his cologne. It was nice. He was so close to my face. I stood stock still.

"Oh, maybe a situation where you and I get a drink together," he suggested. I cleared my throat.

"Again, as we will never be in that situation, you don't need to know my preferred liquor," I quipped. I saw his eyes flash.

"You're fascinating, Belle," he said quietly. I fought my blush.

"And you're in my way. Excuse me," I replied, stepping around him. I glanced over my shoulder in spite of myself and saw him watching me. He grinned when he noticed me looking back at him and he finished the whiskey he had bought me. I shook my head and stormed forward towards the bar. I went behind it, doing a quick inventory.

"How was the drink, Belle?" Nick asked, poking my side.

"Don't you fucking start," I seethed, opening a new bottle of gin. "You couldn't even have sent him with the right liquor?"

"Oh, what's the fun in that? I want him to win you over," Nick quipped. I rolled my eyes.

"There's no version of Eddie Munson winning me over," I replied. I looked at him. "Ever."

"The lady doth protest too much," Nick teased, tossing a dish towel at me. I felt anger burn in my chest. I decided to not reply to him, simply storming out to the back alley to take a deep breath. I set my hands on my hips and tried to calm down my racing heart.

Why, after all these years, did Eddie still have this effect on me? I felt like that stupid girl all those years ago before I wised up about him. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I needed to remember who I was. I needed to remember who he was. Some metalhead who didn't even remember me or what he did. I leaned up against the brick of the building and sighed.