These Hills Called Home | ONC 2024

[8] Spilling Over

    Working early shifts in The Last Drop was a blessing. While they occupied most of Gemma's daylight hours, the pub's first customers came in steady trickles rather than droves, and they tended to be friendlier than the irritable fieldworkers who arrived later. They ordered and paid politely, kept their conversations quiet and respectful, and did not talk Gemma's ear off when she brought them their drinks. Best of all, the early birds never complained about the jukebox games Gemma and Avery improvised to liven up their work hours.

    As a well-dressed couple left their table, the jukebox switched songs to an aggressive drum riff. "Hear that?" Avery called from behind the bar, grinning with a clutch of nectar-stained glasses in her hands. "'Fuckerclust' by Balloon Zoo. You know what that means."

    Gemma moved to check the current track, though Avery had proven her mastery of the jukebox's song list many times over. "You're kidding. Already?"

    "Hell yeah already! I can cross off 'Curse Word Title', and you can call that bingo." Digging a paper slip out of her back pocket, Avery made a spectacle of marking her final square. She slapped the paper onto the bar and set a shot glass filled with murky liquid next to it, tapping a single fingernail against the vessel. "Nice knowing you, loser."

    "You want me to drink this just before the rush comes? It's like you're trying to get me fired," Gemma said as she stared into the shot's swirling, jet-black storm clouds. Only Iris knew what she mixed into the lone bottle in her backroom cupboard, and imagining the ingredients list alone was enough for Gemma to push the glass aside. "How about I skip the shot, and you ask me a question instead?"

    With a shake of her head, Avery returned the shot to its shelf below the counter. "Sounds like wussing out, but sure, I'll bite," she said, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Anything off-limits?"

    The front door swung open, and new strings sounded in the pub's harmony of pleasant conversation. "You can't ask me to down the drink," Gemma answered with a courteous wave at the incoming customers. She leaned over the counter, her hand resting on her heart. "For anything else, I'm an open book."

    "Bold move, Gem. You must really want to dodge that shot." Rocking her head in thought, Avery rounded the bar and fell backwards onto the stool beside Gemma. Her feet bounced to the jukebox's beat, and her eyes remained shut until blazing stars of inspiration showered through their green skies. "Ever hooked up with a girl before?"

    "That's what you're asking?" Gemma asked, and the impish smirk on Avery's face silently reiterated the girl's question. "Yes, I have. Guys too, in case you were wondering."

    "Knew it," Avery said, leaning close to Gemma's side. A faint wave of lamplight fell from above to reveal a delicate sheen spread over the side of her face. "So, spill. You with anybody? Looking to hook up? With somebody and looking anyway?"

    Pangs of guilt pulsed through Gemma's gut, all her past break-ups and breakdowns returning in one shot of dubious liquor. "No, there isn't anybody," she began as the last painful wince raked along her nerves. "I learned pretty quickly that relationships and moving around all the time don't mix."

    Casting a retreating glance at her boots, Avery occupied her hands by fiddling with her shirt's sleeves. "That sucks," she replied, stilling her rhythmic tapping and taking a breath of the hot, syrupy air. "Their loss. You're sweet as hell."

    Tingling waves thrilled the surface of Gemma's skin, their warmth undeterred by the draught through the front door's slight opening. "Thanks, Vee," she said, drifting closer to Avery's entranced emerald eyes until her softest whisper pierced the pub's gossamer-light atmosphere. "Guess their loss is your gain."