Lost

Chapter 1

Then

There was one bar in all of Greenville, Alabama. Nestled between overgrown weeds and a too big gravel parking lot, The Tipsy Cow is where everyone came to unwind. Bored bouncers leaned against the wall, passing around what definitely wasn't a cigarette, blatantly ignoring the crowd of teenagers entering and leaving. On a normal night, Dave Welsh, the owner, was lucky to see three deadbeats sitting at his bar, but on Friday night when the high schoolers got restless and parents claimed date night, Tipsy Cow was packed.

Soft acoustic music filled Jake's ears as he walked inside. People stood back to back swaying to the music from the band playing on stage. The lights were turned down low, the smell of beer, cigarette smoke, and sweat floating in the air. And in the middle of it all stood Jake, wearing an oversized hand-me-down flannel shirt, worn jeans, and cowboy boots. A typical outfit for him seeing as he never allowed his friends to drag him to a place like this. He had chores, responsibilities, waiting for him at home, but tonight he caved and was ready to ignore the familiar faces of the crowd and have a good time.

It wasn't hard to spot her. In a sea of country folks, a city slicker stood out like a sore thumb. And she sure as hell was not from Greenville, population 2,300.

She was not beautiful in the traditional sense of the word. Yet, as the lights dimmed and the music slowed, all eyes were on her. Endless curls of auburn hair floated above her, around her, in front of her. Clothes filled with color and pattern and life highlighted her curves and short frame. Millions of freckles were splattered on her face like intergalactic war paint. And her eyes. They sang. No. Not beautiful. Mesmerizing.

Jake was so distracted by her that he didn't feel his buddy thrust a beer in his hand, clap him on the back and march over to the circle of ladies in the corner.

Every part of him wished to be beside her. Dancing to the country music like it was a New York City club, so carefree she remained oblivious to the eyes that followed her. Suddenly, with a swig of whatever cheap beer he ended up with, Jake found himself advancing towards her.

"You don't look like you're from around here," Jake's words ran fast and stuck together like gum on the bottom of a shoe as nerves raked up his bones.

Yet, her head remained tilted back, her eyes closed, and her arms hanging above her. Jake's weak attempt on starting a conversation was lost to the music as she ignored him altogether.

Rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans, Jake contemplated trying again or walking away. The music rang in his ears drowned out by his thoughts; you do not walk away from a girl like this. So, with his mouth slightly agape, Jake started on his second attempt. Before a sound left his mouth, the mysterious girl slowly opened her eyes, a lazy smile dragging itself against her pale skin. She didn't have anything to say though and as she dropped her arms onto Jake's broad shoulders, neither did he.

Letting the music carry them, the nameless girl swayed in his arms song after song. Occasionally his hands would drop lower from her waist only to be hoisted back up with a smirk that left him dying for more.

Finally, after what felt like hours later she looked Jake in the eye and opened her mouth, "Amira."

He slowly looked her up and down. Once. Twice. "Jake."

"Nice to meet you, Jake." Her smile lit up the whole goddamn bar. "Would you like to get out of here?"

Thus began, on a dreary Friday, in a bar called The Tipsy Cow, 30 miles from civilization, Jake and Amira's story, a love that, in the end, would destroy them both.