Pulling the visor down in my car, I reapply my lipstick. A dull red shade. Not too bold. The curls I put in my hair have already become a bit frizzy from the weather. Inhaling sharply, I feel needles beginning to prickle my eyes.
No. No. Do not do this. No crying.
It's too soon. I shouldn't have even come. Why would Grove even invite me to this? I'm not going to be fun. I'm going to ruin the mood.
There's a knock at my window, making me jump as I snap my head in the direction of my window. Grove is crouched down, wavering her hand at me to hurry up. "Stop staring at yourself. You look fine." She says.
I shut off my car and step out, the cold air nipping at my cheeks. "I don't know if it's a good idea to go to this." I mumble and stuff my keys into my jacket pockets.
She shoots me a look. "Just give it a chance. If you're miserable, feel free to leave at any time." Looking over her attire, I begin to feel self-conscious. How is it that everything looks so elegant and so fitting on her? And despite the rain, her hair still manages to look pristine.
My hand raises, and I attempt to smooth down my hair. Heart thuds in my chest as Grove opens the tavern door. Warm air collides with the cold outside. The restaurant is busy, as usual. Loud conversations and laughter all around us. The sound of glasses clinking and forks scraping plates.
"Are they here yet?" I ask her as I slip off my coat and toss it over my arm.
Her eyes scan the place. "He said they're at a table by the bar." Her green eyes are a darker shade against her emerald blouse. She looks stunning.
"What's my date's name? I know nothing about him."
"Atlas. He's the same age as you, twenty-one. Uh, and apparently, he's going through a rough time and needed to get out as well."
I pop a hip out and shoot her a frown. "Great, did he get cheated on too?" I grumble. Atlas. Not a very common name. There was an Atlas at my high school. Oh, God. What if it's him? The last person I want to see right now is someone from high school. My body goes rigid, and my feet plant themselves on the ground. "Grove, I don't think I can do this."
Her attention snaps to me. "Dear God, Greer. Since when have social settings terrified you this much?"
"Since I've become a miserable, cheated-on mess."
She rolls her eyes. "You've had two weeks to wallow and hide in your bedroom. That's more time than he deserves. Now just plaster a fake smile on it and try to enjoy yourself. Do this for me, okay?"
"I might know the guy, though. His friend."
Her eyebrow raises. "Oh?"
"Nothing. Never mind." I wave my hand. Sucking in a shaky breath, I unlock my feet and flash a bright, fake smile at her. Grove has been overly supportive through my whole ordeal and through most of my life, so the least I can do is shoo away my heavy rain cloud above my head for a short amount of time so she can enjoy her date with a boy she likes. "It's fine. Let's go."
She tosses her arm over my shoulder. "Yes, there it is! Let's have fun tonight." She pats the top of my head. "Oh! I see him." Her feet skip with excitement as she walks a step ahead of me towards the table.
I weave past a group of guys, feeling their stare on me as I walk past, and feel my back stiffen in response. Grove is already giving the guy a hug with a large, vibrant smile across her face. He's much taller and has the body of a firefighter. Muscular arms that are visible even through his olive-green long-sleeve shirt. Light stubble lines his sharp jawline, and short, tousled brown hair and olive skin.
I stand off to the side, arms folded awkwardly across my chest, until Grove motions towards me. "Fraser, this is my younger sister, Greer."
Fraser turns towards me, a smile erupting on his face, exposing straight, white teeth and dimples on either of his cheeks. Phew. Go Grove. This guy is stunning. He opens his arms towards me, and I step into them. Large, toned arms wrap around me for a quick hug before he pulls away, a smile still on his face. "It's nice to meet you." His eyes glance behind me towards the door. "Atlas should be here soon. Sorry, he's running a little late."
I sit next to Grove at the table. Fraser points a finger at either of us. "Drinks? On me."
"Oh, I'll have a vodka lemonade, please." Grove says it with a chipper voice.
Fraser looks at me, awaiting my response. "Vodka cranberry, thanks."
He nods and heads off towards the bar. Grove turns toward me eagerly. "So? Isn't he insanely hot?"
"Uh, yeah. It's a little intimidating." I laugh and tuck my hair behind one ear. "How old is he?"
"Twenty-four. Only a few months older than me." She reaches over and squeezes my hand excitedly. Smashmouth begins playing, and a nearby table sings along to the words. Grove hangs her purse on the back of her chair. "Apparently every guy in his family is destined to be a firefighter. It's in their blood." She tells me. "Can you imagine him in a firefighter suit carrying me out of a burning building? Talk about every girl's fantasy."
"Yeah, when I imagine firefighters, he's exactly what I imagine."
She giggles and bumps her shoulder against mine as Fraser comes back holding our drinks. "Alright, here's yours." He slides Grove's over before mine, then takes a seat in the chair across from Grove. There's this lightness about him. It's comforting, allowing me to relax slightly. "So, you said you have another younger sister as well?" He asks as he takes a sip of his beer.
"Good memory." She smiles. "Yes, I have another sister, Grayson. She's a senior in high school."
As Fraser and Grove transition into a back-and-forth conversation, I sip at my drink mindlessly, wondering if this Atlas is even going to show up. I'll be stuck as a third wheel. Though I am happy to see Grove find someone who appears to be very nice, Grove never had much time for relationships when we were younger. She stayed single throughout high school and only dated briefly the last few years, usually cutting it off after the first few dates. She said none of them were boys she would want around her sisters. This one is different, though. I can already tell.
Suddenly, a guy approaches the table, making us all turn and look. His head ducks slightly as he pulls off a beanie and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. My nerves immediately resurface at the sight of him. It is Atlas. The one from high school. Of course it is.
He looks different than I remember. Not that I knew him well at all. Or anyone did. His twin brother was the popular one. The one always at parties, who seemed to know everyone. Atlas was always there, but off to the side. Mysterious and quiet, while his brother was the one making everyone laugh and dating all the girls.
Seeing him now, he looks very pale, besides the redness of his cheeks from the cold. His hair is darker in the winter, nearly black, and his soft curls have grown out longer. He has some scruff growing along his jawline and a small, jagged cut along the middle of his eyebrow. There's sadness in his eyes as he takes a seat in his chair, a timid smile on his face. "Sorry, I'm late." He says this as Fraser claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him to the side. Atlas glances at Grove and quickly extends his hand as if he's just remembered we're here too. "Sorry, nice to meet you; I'm Atlas."
Grove smiles and shakes his hand, introducing herself. When Atlas looks at me, his eyes widen slightly, signaling that he remembers me as well. He drops his hand to his side. "Hey, we went to school together, right? Uh," He squints one eye slightly. "Greer?"
I nod. "Yeah, hi, nice to see you again."
"You two already know each other?" Fraser asks in surprise.
"We went to high school together." I tell him. "Everyone knew him and his twin brother, Ridge." I notice Atlas's face winces slightly as he fidgets in his seat. Fraser's eyes glance over at Atlas before falling back on me. "How have you both been?"
"Um, fine, yeah." He shrugs lightly and stands at the table. "I'm going to grab a drink." He turns and walks away, leaving a short silence to grow.
"I actually think I remember you talking about them in high school." Grove carries on the conversation, ending the somewhat awkward silence. My eyes glance over at Atlas by the bar. His hands are stuffed inside his jacket pockets, and he's waiting patiently for the bartender to notice him.
I think about how strange it is to see someone after high school. All I know about him is what I heard. He and I were never friends. I can't ever recall a time we spoke with one another. My friend group hardly ever crossed paths with his. We did have a class together, though, in junior year. We sat on opposite ends of the room. I liked sneaking glances at him throughout the class, trying to create my own idea of who he was. He seemed so different from his brother, despite their nearly identical looks. They moved to town at the beginning of their freshman year, and nearly immediately everyone flocked to them.
I'm surprised he even remembers my name or knew it in the first place.
Based on his rather unenthusiastic greeting, I'm beginning to get the feeling he was forced to come to this as well. At least Fraser and my sister are having a great time together.
"So, are you guys friends?" It takes me a minute to realize Fraser has shifted his attention back to me. My cheeks flush slightly, realizing I've been strangely watching Atlas.
I shake my head. "No, nothing like that." A playful smirk forms on my face as Atlas comes walking back over, drink in hand. "I wasn't as cool as him and his brother were." I say this while looking at him.
Atlas points to himself with a surprised look on his face. "I was never cool. Ridge, yes." He takes a seat, a sort of painful expression on his face, like he'd rather be anywhere but here.
Fraser then asks if any of us want to go play darts. Atlas and I both decline and watch quietly as Grove and Fraser walk off towards the darts together, smiling at one another and bumping into each other every so often.
Atlas is staring down at his drink quietly.
"So, how long have you and Fraser been friends?" I ask in an attempt to make this somewhat less painful.
"About three years now. We worked together, serving for a while at The Sailhouse."
I nod knowingly. "That place is great. What do you do for work now?"
"Oh, um, same, really. Just a different restaurant. I'm at Bridgeview Tavern now." He struggles to maintain eye contact. It's fleeting as he returns to glancing back down at the table, then lifts his drink to take a sip. "What about you?"
"I'm job hunting at the moment. I'd really like to find something related to what I'm going to college for. Like a paid internship or something."
"What's your major?"
"Film and media production."
"Oh, right. Didn't you take photos for the yearbook?"
My head tilts slightly, surprised that he even knew that. A bashful smile grows on my face. "Yes, I did. My grand high school experience." I giggle to myself. When I look up, a small smile is on his face, and he's finally looking at me. "How do you even remember that? I didn't think you knew me at all."
He shrugs casually and takes another sip of his drink, his stare breaking away from me. His drink is nearly gone. Mine's been empty for a minute now. I feel slightly tipsy; the alcohol makes my body warm and fuzzy. For not being much of a drinker, it doesn't take much to make me feel intoxicated. "Um, well, we had class together, didn't we? Junior year. You always had your camera with you, and you wore glasses back then. We talked once or twice."
I clap my hands over my face, then proceed to peek out at him between my fingers. "No, why do you remember all of this? I thought I was in the clear. Those glasses were horrible on me."
He looks genuinely confused. "What? No, they weren't. They looked cute. I liked them."
His compliment leaves me stunned into silence. All the time, I secretly admired him at school. Wondering what he was like and believing that he had no idea I even existed. All along, he did notice me, and he thought my black-framed glasses were cute. Atlas stands from his seat and gestures to my drink. "Would you like another one?"
I say yes and tell him what I'm drinking, then watch as he walks back towards the bar. I press my cold hands against my warm cheeks. Am I actually beginning to enjoy myself? Looking over at Fraser and Grove, I'm surprised to see her standing between his legs as he sits at a bar stool by the darts, his hand on her hip, their faces close together as they laugh about something.
Atlas comes back and hands me my drink. "Are you in school?" I ask him, stirring the straw around. The ice clinks around the sides.
He shakes his head. "No, uh, not at the moment..." His voice trails off at the end. "I mean, I haven't really started yet or anything. I'd like to, though, eventually."
"What do you want to do?"
His hand rises, scratching the back of his head. He seems nervous, which is strange. In high school, he seemed so sure of himself, so secure in who he was. Quiet and mysterious, yes, but in a sexy, confident way. Tonight, he seems tired, uncomfortable in his skin, and like he's struggling to find words. Grove mentioned he's going through a hard time. It makes me wonder what he's going through. What's happened to him? "Yeah, not sure yet, exactly." He inhales deeply. I watch as his chest lifts, then drops back down.
"Are you doing okay, Atlas?" I ask him softly, and this makes his eyes lift and meet mine. The color of his eyes reminds me of the winter sky. An icy blue. So piercing yet captivating.
He's quiet for a moment. A stillness as if he's unsure how to correctly answer the question. Eventually, he nods, his back straightening. "Sure, I'm fine."
"Okay, good."
"Sorry, I haven't been out in a while. Fraser kind of forced me to come." After he says that, his face winces, as if realizing how rude that sounded. "No, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. He made me get out of the house; I mean..." He releases a frustrated breath, head dipping down slightly.
I give him an understanding smile. "It's okay; I was forced to come here too."
Atlas's eyes widen in surprise. "Really?"
"Yeah, I haven't been out in a while either."
"You seem to be doing much better at this than I am."
I laugh. "Do I?"
He nods. "You seem very relaxed. Able to form complete sentences, unlike me."
"Well, I am a bit tipsy now, so that's probably why."
"Are you?"
"I don't drink much." I wiggle my eyebrows, making a smile form on his face. "Do you?"
"Drink much?"
I nod and happily take a sip of my drink. I'm about to laugh, and I'm not sure why. Everything suddenly seems so funny to me. He's also incredibly cute.
"Not normally. I've been drinking a lot more lately."
"How come?" I put my finger at the tip of my nose. "Oh, wait, I assume it's because we're finally twenty-one now, right?"
He intakes a breath. "Uh, right, yeah."
"I think this is one of the first times I've gone out drinking since I've turned twenty-one. Is that super depressing?" I giggle and slurp up the last of my drink.
He shrugs. "I don't know. It's kind of less exciting once it's legal. All the thrill is gone."
My mouth drops. "My God. What all were you doing in high school?"
His cheeks flush, and a sheepish smile grows on his face. "Wasn't everyone getting wasted in high school?"
"No, Atlas, they were not. I was busy taking my pictures and staying home to watch The Office. Only the kids with social lives, like you and your brother, were getting wasted."
He snorts. "Okay, well, what are you doing now? Keep up, Greer. Don't you want to be an alcoholic like the rest of us?"
My head falls back with laughter, surprised by his joke. "You've convinced me. I see how much fun you're having, and I'm going to jump on that alcoholic train." I stand at the table. "I'll get the next round."
"No, Greer, it's on me."
"Nope, I insist. I've got it."
"Okay, thanks." He sits back down as I hurry off towards the bar.
When I come back with the drinks, we clink our glasses together. "So, when was your birthday anyway?" I ask.
The music seems to get louder in the bar, or maybe it's all in my head, but it's much harder to hear him suddenly, and I move over to sit in the chair beside him at the table. Our bodies gradually turn more towards one another until my knee is pressed against his. "October, what about you?"
"August."
"You've been twenty-one since August, and this is one of your first times going out to drink?" He shakes his head in disbelief. "Outrageous."
"Hey, I'm workin' on it. Hang out with you one time, and you're already corrupting me."
He shrugs dramatically. "What can I say? I have that effect on people."
"Clearly." I roll my eyes, and he snorts a laugh.
"What about you? Are you doing okay?" Atlas then asks me, eyes on me intently, like he's genuinely interested. He holds his drink in one hand.
I let out a heavy phew.
His eyebrows raise. "That bad?" One of his legs begins to bounce up and down, and I wonder if he's growing nervous again, or maybe he's just cold. It makes his knee continuously brush up and down against mine. The small, insignificant feel of his skin on mine makes goosebumps form on my arms. My face feels hot all over again, and I press one of my hands against my cheek. The way my body reacts to him is surprising and a bit embarrassing. I know he's oblivious to it, and thankfully my goosebumps are hidden by my sweater, but just a few hours ago I was devastated. I could barely get out of bed. Now, here I am, completely infatuated by him. Yes, he was my secret high school crush, and yes, I am fairly drunk now, but can I at least be a little mysterious like he always is?
The last thing I want to do is talk about exes with Atlas. Especially on a first date, if this is even considered a first date. But I have a bad habit of revealing everything when I'm intoxicated. "I'm a bit shit, actually." I admit, and his eyes widen, his head tilting to the side as he prepares to listen. I scoot more to the edge of my seat. "Are you ready for this little sadness dump, Atlas?"
He bites back a laugh, then nods his head quietly.
With the green light, I start at the beginning. I'm telling him about Wynn and how we've been together for two years. After rambling for too long, I finally get to the cheating part. Telling him all about the girl in the kitchen and how betrayed I felt. I watch as his eyes widen, and he's listening so intently that his eyes are able to hold eye contact with me throughout. When I'm finished, I inhale a deep breath, then take a big gulp of my drink.
"Sorry, I know that was a lot to take in." I tell him.
His bouncing leg comes to a halt. Yet, my body still vibrates from his touch. "I don't mind." The music switches to a ninety's throwback, and other people in the place begin singing along drunkenly. "I'm really sorry that happened to you." He then tells me.
I give him a, what-can-you-do, face. "I'm actually kind of proud of myself. I was able to talk about it without crying."
"I know what you mean."
"Aw, who hurt you?" I ask, bottom lip puffing out.
He clears his throat. "Hah, nobody. Not yet, anyway. I just mean, I get it. Talking about something that's difficult, you know?" A far-away look forms in his eyes. Like he's ventured off someplace else, and I hope I haven't ruined the mood. The conversation was finally flowing, until I had to dump all my problems all over him.
I open my mouth to apologize, hoping to bring some light between us, but before I can, he speaks first. "She stole your problem, not your man." He tells me, eyes coming back from the distant place in his mind. An embarrassed smile grows on his face.
"Oh, okay." I say with a giggle. "Can I get that printed on a shirt?"
"I read that somewhere. I don't know. That was dumb." He pulls in his bottom lip, and it's incredibly sexy. I can't seem to pull my gaze away from his lips now. "But you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."
"Thanks, I appreciate it." I smile. We look at one another for a moment. Now that I think about it, I don't remember hearing about Atlas dating much in school. Only ever his brother, who seemed to have a new girl every other week. Girls pined after Atlas, but I don't recall him ever dating any of them. "When was your last relationship?"
He picks up his drink off the table, takes a sip, then places it back down. "Uh, a year ago, maybe. It wasn't really a thing. It only lasted a few months."
"Oh, what happened? If you don't mind me asking."
"Nothing, really. Just sort of fizzled out." He runs a finger along one eyebrow, smoothing it down.
The conversation continues to flow from there, along with the drinks, and we both seem to be genuinely enjoying ourselves and one another's company. Yet, in the back of my mind and in the depths of my stomach, I can't help but feel like I'm cheating on Wynn. I keep imagining him coming into the restaurant and finding Atlas and me sitting so close to one another. Seeing my knee against his as we laugh and smile. He'll see me getting drunk with another guy and question why I never went out for drinks with him.
I try to keep those thoughts pushed back far away in my brain. Because I'm actually having fun, and I don't want Wynn to ruin this either. I'm allowed to have this. I'm allowed to find a guy cute and want to be close to him. Especially a guy like Atlas Calloway.
At one point, my hand is somehow on his leg, and I'm leaning forward, laughing at something he said. A wide smile on his face, exposing his perfect teeth. It's the most genuine smile I've received from him all night. But something flashes across his face; the smile fades almost as quickly.
He's quiet for a moment, then he turns his face away from me.
I wonder if I've done something wrong. If it's something I said. His hand lifts, and he's wiping his cheeks. "Atlas, hey, are you okay?" I ask.
He nods quickly, still looking away from me. "Yeah, sorry." His voice cracks.
"Are you crying?" I question him in disbelief.
"No, I don't know—" He inhales a shaky breath, finally turning his face back towards mine. His eyes are red and crystallized with tears. One races down his cheek, and he quickly swipes it away. "I'm so sorry—"
"No, don't be sorry. Did I say something?"
"No, no. I, uh, I don't know why I'm crying. I've just been having a hard time lately..." He covers his face briefly with his hands while he takes a few deep breaths, then drops them into his lap. "I've been having fun with you tonight, laughing and stuff. I haven't done that in a while, and I feel guilty about it. Sorry, I know that doesn't make any sense—"
"No, it does. I understand completely." I tell him and grab onto one of his hands, giving it a squeeze. He looks down at them. "Don't apologize." It breaks my heart to see the sadness leaking from him. The only time I've ever seen a man cry was at my mom's funeral. My dad cried most of the day and well into the night. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask him gently.
"No, I'm okay, really." A nervous laugh escapes his mouth. "This is embarrassing."
"So, I take it you don't normally cry on first dates?"
This makes a real laugh come from him, and the sound is like music to my ears. It makes me smile proudly. "Only the good ones, apparently."
"You would not believe it." Fraser and Grove have come back to the table, making Atlas wipe once more at his cheeks and turn his body away from me. "She beat me three times in a row at darts."
"What can I say? I'm a natural." Grove takes a little bow, then turns to me. "Bathroom?"
I nod and stand from the chair, following her into the bathroom, where she immediately turns around and gives me a look. "How has it been going?"
To give myself something to do, I pump some soap onto my hands, then rinse it off in the sink. "Good, actually. I'm surprisingly having a nice time with him."
She leans her hip against the wall beside me. "He was kind of rude at first, no?"
"Yeah, I thought so too, but he was just nervous."
She nods, lips pursed. "Well, I looked over at you guys a few times and saw you gradually getting closer and closer to him." She gives me a wink.
My cheeks flush. "It was hard to hear him. He talks quietly."
"Mhm, sure. Isn't this the guy you had a crush on in high school?"
I groan. "No, hardly. I didn't even know him. I just thought he was cute. Do not ever tell him about that." I point a sharp finger at her.
She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Why? Are you planning on seeing him again?"
"No, I don't know, maybe?" I bite down on my bottom lip to prevent a large smile from spreading on my face.
"When we came back over, he seemed upset. Was he crying?"
"No," I say quickly, not wanting him to be embarrassed. "We were laughing pretty hard about something. Anyway, you and Fraser seem to really be hitting it off tonight. He looks like he's completely besotted with you."
Grove grabs my hands excitedly, letting out a squeal. "Do you think? Because I really like him. He's so kind, right? The kindest, and he's extremely sexy. We have so much in common."
"That's really good. I liked him. He seems easy to be around."
"Atlas is very good looking too, by the way. You look cute together."
"Okay, now. I might not even see him again after tonight. I mean, I just got out of a long-term relationship."
"I know, I know." She opens the bathroom door and lets me walk out first. "Just you know, don't shoot him down right away."
"I'm not." I say.
When we get back to the table, both boys are standing up. Atlas has pulled his beanie back on his head, his curls peeking out around the edges. Fraser walks over to Grove and puts an arm around her shoulders. "We're going to head off."
I look over at Atlas, whose hands are stuffed in his jacket pockets, eyes still red, as they point down towards the ground.
"Okay, no worries. It's getting late anyway." Grove says in a fake chipper voice. I can detect her disappointment.
"Want me to walk you to your car?"
"Sure." Grove says.
Fraser turns to me. "Really nice meeting you."
"You too."
As we all make our way outside, Atlas walks close to me. "Where's your car?"
"Just right here." I point to my Honda Accord. The car I got when I was sixteen and is barely hanging on by a thread. Grove and Fraser say goodbye again before heading off towards her car. Atlas rolls back on the balls of his feet. In my head, I keep thinking, ask for my number.
"It was good seeing you again." He says. "I'm glad you're doing well, or, you know, somewhat well. Besides your shitty ex."
I smile. "Thanks. It was good seeing you too."
"Are you fine driving home?"
"Oh, yeah. I don't live far from here."
"Okay well," He hesitates, then takes a step back from me. "Have a good night."
"Oh, you too."
I watch as he walks away, over towards Fraser, and I can't help but feel disappointed. Inside my car, I wait for the heater to defog my windows. Maybe he didn't like me. Maybe I overshared too much. Or maybe he's just embarrassed about crying in front of me. I guess I could've asked for his. But now it's too late.