Page 107 of Back to Willow

“No,” I answer. “And it’s not just some girl. It’sthegirl.”

“What?”

I can’t help but grin as all of them look at me wide-eyed.

“The one who had you spiral back in freshman year?” Victor asks.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“Fucking hell,” Saul curses. “Tell us everything, man.”

“All you guys need to know,” I tell them pointedly, “is that we met a few weeks ago and have been talking. You know…” I trail off. “We’ve been clearing things out. All the questions and misunderstandings.”

“Ugh, party-pooper,” Paul whines when their third—my first—round of beer arrives.

“Fuck off.” I laugh. “And you guys? News?”

One by one, they all tell me their news. Saul is a physiotherapist. We just shared a couple of subjects back in our first year of college, but we got along right off the bat. Paul and Victor followed, a few weeks later at some random party. They’re from different areas, but the friendship we developed is solid.

It’s a shame that we can’t spend as much time together as we used to. Time flies by as we catch up. So much so, it’s close to three in the morning when I finally look down at my watch.

“Guys, I have to go.” They boo me. “I have a double shift tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”

“Workaholic,” Saul coughs up the word, teasing me.

“Shut up, asshole,” I counter, standing from my chair and saying goodbye to all of them.

Twisting my arms, I put my jacket on, covering my body from the chilly temperatures that will surely hit outside. Thankfully, it’s not a dancing kind of place, so the walk outside is easy.

Just as I expected, the freezing air blows against my face, and all I can think about as I walk to my car is the warmth from my fluffy bed. A loud curse roots me in place, directing my attention to the stumbling woman right next to a very familiar car.

Johanna. She holds onto the side of the car, to bend down and pick up what I reckon to be her car keys, only to fall to the ground. Without thinking twice, I rush over to her, helping her up.

“Hey, Johanna?” I call slowly to try and have her look at me. “It’s me. It’s Liam.”

With hooded eyes, she smiles lazily, her hand patting my cheek. With the exhale of her weak smile, the stench of alcohol reaches my nostrils.

“Am I dreaming?” she slurs, looking up at the sky before looking back at me.

“No–”

“I was asking for you to come and save me, and you’ve appeared. My knight in a shining armour.”

“How much did you have to drink, Jo?”

“Enough.” With a high giggle, she tries—and fails—to stand up on her own.

Bringing both of us to the ground, I sigh. There’s no way I’ll let her drive in such a state. My hand reaches forward, picking her keys up before I help her up—again.

“Come on,” I urge. “I’ll take you home.”

“Pffft, I can take care of myself,” she counters.

“Right. Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you back with your little girlfriend?” When I don’t answer, she continues, “Go back to her. I don’t want your help.”

“You don’t need to want it. You’ll get it either way,” I answer, gently pulling her with me. Surprisingly, she doesn’t put up a fight. At least, not with her body.

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