Loser II || WlW

Two

     "Brittany," I repeat as I move to grab a glass. The glass tumbles to the ground; shatters. "Um." I can't keep the nervous jitters from my fingers as I force them into my pockets.

"I got it," Jackson says, grabbing a broom. Even he's on edge. I saw the look of shock cross his face as he put the pieces together. This is the famous Brittany that I spend every waking second thinking about. Talking about. Pouting about.

Brittany's lips purse into a smile, her blue eyes fixed on my face. God, those eyes. She leans forward, crosses her arms over her chest. "I saw your show outside."

I clear my throat, attempt to change the subject. "You want the usual?" I ask, pouring a double shot of whiskey and filling the rest with ice and coke.

"Do you throw punches for any girl you meet now?" She raises an eyebrow.

I choke; smile. Good ole Brittany. "That's not fair." I slide the drink to her. "I never threw a punch."

She nods, taking the straw between her manicured fingers as she takes a long sip.

I use the time to take her in; her blonde hair curled down over her shoulders, long, dark eyelashes framing her light eyes, and just a touch of lipstick applied carefully to her lips. I thought I missed her before, but somehow, in this moment, with her sitting in front of me but so emotionally distant, the feeling is amplified. I'd give anything to know her again. To be her best friend or more if she'd let me.

"It's good." She motions to her drink. "Strong." I can tell by the way she's holding herself, she feels it too. The heaviness that comes with being face to face with someone you thought you'd never see again.

"Did thee Brittany Davis go soft on me?" I smile, leaning over the bar to try her drink.

She rolls her eyes, pulls the glass from my hands, throws the rest of the drink back, places the cup on the bar with a clink, and motions for me to refill it.

"There she is!" I laugh, as I pour more Jack into the cup.

"Hi, excuse me. Joey, baby."

I keep my eyes focused on the cup as I top it off with soda, my jaw clenched. I hate that nickname. "What's up, Clementine? You need a refill?" I don't look up from the drink. I'd recognize that rasp in her voice anywhere.

"No, baby," she slurs. "I just came to see why you're having such a good time over here when your world is over there." She points over at her seat, spills half of her Blue Hawaiian on the counter.

I stare at her, my eyes hard, but force a smile. Gotta maintain a thread of professionalism tonight. "Should I call you a cab? Where's your boyfriend? Maybe he can drive you home." I manage a glance at Brittany who's trying to force her smile down as she sips her drink.

Clementine turns to Brittany and extends a hand, ignoring me. "I'm Clementine."

Brittany shakes her hand. "Brittany."

"Brittany." Clementine nods, makes a pitying face. "How unoriginal."

"That's it. You're cut off." I flip the bar door up, grabbing Clementine's arm.

"Oh, sweetheart." Brittany swallows the rest of her drink and dabs her lips with a napkin.

I swallow. I've seen that look before.

Brittany is picking at a piece of nail polish, as she says, "You're literally named after an orange." Her eyes narrow at Clementine. "Why are you mad, sweetie? Because Jordan slept with you and threw you out? Or because she'd choose me over you? Every. Single. Time." She tilts her head to the side, mirroring Clementine's pitying look. "I get it though. It must be hard, trying to get your boyfriend to pay attention to you by cheating with women who will never care about you."