Page 24 of Forging Chaos

I nod and slap the roof of his car. “Thanks for the ride.”

When I get inside, Thora is pouring beers with both hands, smiling and wiggling her tiny butt to the music blasting. The place is pretty full. I guess a lot of people are celebrating the end of the semester. Next week are finals and then commencement. I tip my chin at a guy who vacates the end stool at the bar for me. I should care more that I’m this level of incapacitated, but I just don’t.

While I wait for Thora to serve me, I realize my parents and uncles must be upset that zero Stag kids are getting their degrees this spring, as expected. Wes is playing pro soccer here in Pittsburgh, Wyatt is playing in London, Stellan is taking an extra year for some reason, and me? Well…

“Get you something?” Thora grins and leans her elbows on the bar in front of me. I don’t even pretend not to stare at her tits.

“Shot of Glenfiddich?”

Thora rolls her eyes. “This isn’t that kind of place, Odin. Best I can do is Johnnie Walker.”

I arch a brow. “But does it have a Stag on the label?”

“I could draw one for you if that makes you feel more included.”

I laugh and nod. “It would, thanks. I’ll wait while you do that.”

Thora flicks the tip of my nose and hops on a stool to grab a bottle of scotch from the top shelf. She pours me more than a shot’s worth and slides the glass toward me.

“Wish you could do one of these with me.” I look at her above the glass, smelling the warm spice of the liquor.

“I can do a shot of soda.” She pours herself some from the nozzle into a plastic cup, which she taps against my shot glass. “Cheers, Odin.”

“Skol,” I say, making her laugh again. She takes an order from someone else, not even telling me what I owe her, which I guess is fine because I plan to sit here as long as she can stand me. I order a burger and another shot before switching to beer. I’m off the painkillers now, and I’m also off my nutrition plan.

My body doesn’t know what to do with all the greasy food and alcohol. I can hear my stomach digesting against its will as Thora waits on a few more people, and then the lunch rush dies down, and I’m the only one left in the bar.

“You were great today,” I tell her, spinning my empty glass in a puddle of condensation.

“You weren’t half bad either, big guy.” She gestures at her chest and points at me. “I wasn’t expecting you to match your tie to my dress.”

I tug on my imaginary cufflinks and glance down at my t-shirt, relieved to notice I have not spilled ketchup on myself. “I can clean up sometimes.”

“Yeah, like I said, you only lookedhalfbad.”

“At least it was my good half.” I give my leg a shake.

Thora sighs. “I really am sorry, Odin. I feel like I haven’tsaid that enough. You must be floundering, trying to figure out what’s next.”

“Ha.” I dab at my mouth with a napkin. “There is no next. I’m moving back in with my parents until I become one with their basement couch.”

She frowns. “I used to not be able to see a future at all, you know. The first time my dad went to jail when I was in high school, I literally couldn’t imagine what life would be like for me. I sort of thought I’d end up working retail or tending bar forever, but I couldn’t even see that. I’d think aboutafterhigh school, and it would just be…a black cloud.”

“Relatable content.” I stifle a burp. I must be well on my way to drunk. Thora doesn’t offer me a refill, and I don’t ask for one. I focus on my fries.

“But I had a really good mentor in high school. For some reason.” She grabs the nozzle thing and a plastic cup and pours me a water without mentioning it. “They helped me apply for college, showed me scholarships, made suggestions. Don’t you have someone telling you your options?”

“Oh, everyone’s got opinions.” I point at her with a French fry. “My uncles want me to go to law school. My dad has told me at least 700 times that I can coach college or pro ball with my playing experience. And let’s see…my cousins have offered me free tickets to watch them play professional soccer, as if it wouldn’t be fucking devastating to hear Stag this and Stag that while I’m stuck in a cast.”

Thora’s eyes crinkle around the corners, and her expression is hard to read. “I’m nervous, too, you know? About moving somewhere all alone, the unknown of it all, and the pressure.”

I grip the bar with both hands and lean forward until my face is an inch from hers. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. You’re a fucking force, Thora, goddess of thunder.” I’m close enough to smell her breath, and I know I’m going to kiss her. I want to grab the back of her head and pullher into me, yank her across the damn bar, and into my lap. She parts her lips, and I know she wants it, too.

But my brother Gunnar’s voice slashes the moment. “Yo, Odin, if you want a ride home, I’m leaving now.”

I sink back into the stool and turn to face him. He leans against the door to the bar, massive arms crossed over his chest, shit-eating grin on his face. That fucker absolutely timed his outburst to interrupt me kissing my new obsession. I turn back to Thora, who licks her lips and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I’ll close out your tab,” she whispers, and I nod.

I grab a bunch of cash from my wallet and slide it under my plate. “Have a great time at the book thing with Fern,” I tell her.

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