A Ghost Encounter: My Time with Simon "Ghost" Riley

Part Fifty-Three: The Celebration

The team all walks into a local bar, the lights dim and yellow, the atmosphere in the building lively.

I want to enjoy the celebration of the success of our mission but I can't stop thinking about the future, about Simon and me.

I need a distraction.

"Let's get the drinks going!" Soap laughs excitedly, pushes past the group, and runs up to a large table as he waves a server down.

"Someone's excited. Maybe too excited?" I laugh and sketch a brow to Soap. "The first step to getting better is admitting you have a problem," I chuckle, teasing Soap, and sit down next to him at the table.

"Ha, ha very funny." Soap rolls his eyes playfully.

The rest of 141 join us at the table. The server approaches the table, prompting Captain Price to speak up.

"A round of bourbon for the table, darling." Price nods his head at the very pretty server, giving her the eyes. "Matter of fact, let's get a whole bottle for the table."

"Going all out, Captain?" Laswell playfully nudges Price as Soap and Gaz look at each other excitedly.

"For my team, always." Price winks at Laswell.

"I'll be right back." The server winks at Price, not breaking eye contact with him as she takes her leave.

Someone's getting laid tonight.

Ghost is noticeably quiet. He's always quiet but this feels...different.

"Having fun?" I smile softly.

"Mhh." He sits there with his arms crossed.

I know he doesn't care for public gatherings but he seems closed off, upset even. This in turn upsets me. I'm not sure why but his I-couldn't-care-less attitude is annoying me.

Why come if you're going to be miserable the whole time?

Whatever. I'll just talk to everyone—anyone—else.

Ghost is looking at me through the eye slit of his black, skull print balaclava, waiting for me to speak but I just provide him with a slight frown.

"Soap," I say his name but keep my eyes locked with Ghost's. "Wanna play pool?" I arch my brow at Ghost but then turn my head to find the Sergeant excitedly nodding his head.

"I'll totally kick your ass," Soap says cockily.

"Here we go." The server places the bottle of Bourbon and some glasses down and says before she walks away, "Have fun."

The entire table takes a shot and then Soap pours a glass for himself and me. Soap stands up and hands me the tiny glass.

We move our way over to the billiard table.

I turn my head over my shoulder to look at Ghost and his piercing gaze has not left me, yet I can see his eyes shift to look at Soap holding my hand.

Ghost uncrosses his arms, takes a deep breath—his chest puffing and falling—then takes a sip from his drink.

I don't get why he's upset. I'm just mirroring his attitude.

"Ready to get your ass kicked?" Soap teases and sets up the billiard balls.

"Are you?" I chuckle, feeling the alcohol start to buzz me.

Soap and I played for a little while, continuing our binge drinking. To sum it all up, Soap did indeed kick my ass at pool.

"Haha! I win!" Soap claps his hands, pleased with himself.

"Yeah, yeah whatever," I scoff and roll my eyes.

"What's my prize?" Soap moves in closer to me and hands me another drink.

"Did we make a bet?" I sketch a brow.

"No...but I deserve a prize don't ya think?" he grins cheekily at me.

"Fair enough." I shrug my shoulders playfully then place my hands on my hips. "What do you want?"

Soap's grin widens, he leans into my ear and whispers, "One last hurrah."

He then slowly pulls away, stares me deep in my eyes, and awaits my response.

I look over to where the team is sitting and Ghost is no longer there. Where did he go?

"Can I ask you something, Soap?" I take a more serious tone.

"Shoot." He mirrors my body language.

"Why do you keep flirting with me if you know your Lieutenant, your friend, is involved with me?" I ask upset, not because of his advances, but because of his disrespectful nature towards Ghost—someone he supposedly respects.

But I suppose I'm being flirtatious in my own nature, not because I like Soap, but because I'm upset with Ghost.

The alcohol is currently overpowering my feelings of shame.

Soap takes a deep breath, letting out a deeper sigh. "I liked you first. Besides, you and he aren't serious," he says matter-of-factly.

Not serious? That sends a wave of anger throughout my body.

"What do you mean we're not serious?" I respond, my irritation evident.

"You're leaving in a couple of days. Do you honestly think Ghost is going to progress things with you? Do you even know Simon at all?"

Ouch. That... hurt

He used his real name: Simon.

Soap knows Simon better than I do. Maybe he's right.

"Did he say something to you?" I question him.

"Breanna it's comp-" I cut him off.

"Tell me," I drunkenly yell.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant. Forget I said anything. I shouldn't have made advances toward you. Let's just go back to the t-"

I can't contain myself.

"No. Tell me what he told you!" I continue to yell, probably making a scene.

I need to know if Ghost said something about us.

I step up to Soap angrily but before I can reach him Ghost interjects, standing between Soap and I.

Ghost is facing Soap with his back to me.

"Enough now, Johnny. It's alright. Go back to the table," Ghost orders sternly.

"Sorry, L.T." Soap walks away with his head hung low and Ghost faces me.

"Come on, let's go get some fresh air." Ghost grabs my arm.

"No," I hiccup as I pull away. "I'm staying. I'm having fun!"

I drunkenly stumble my way back over to the table.

"Yeah, I can tell," Ghost mumbles sarcastically to himself under his breath, "Dammit."

Ghost hesitantly makes his way over to the group, as well.