Page 43 of How to Score Off Field

“She is pretty cool.” Tess puts her arms across the bar, waggling her fingertips until the bartender walks over.

He smiles, wiping down the counter with a white dish rag as he leans forward, grinning widely, wearing a plaid shirt with cut-off sleeves. I feel like a limp dick in my polo shirt compared to this guy.

“Hey, darlin’, what can I get you?”

“Yes, please.” She tosses her hair. “I’ll have a vodka tonic, and my friend here will have…” She waits for me to fill in the blank with my drink order.

“A lite beer.”

“And my friend here will have a lite beer.” Tess winks at me, and I wonder if she’s in the habit of winking a lot or if she’s decided it’s fun to make me squirm.

“Vodka tonic and a lite beer comin right up.” The guy goes to fetch our drinks but pauses, doubling back and squinting across the bar at me. “Hey. Ain’t you one of the Colter boys?”

I nod. “I’m Drew.” I put my hand across the bar to shake his. “Good to meet you.”

“I’m Dillon. Huge fan of your brothers—and yours of course. You one of the twins?”

I nod again. “Yup, one of the twins.”

“That’s so fucking cool! What are you doing in town? Don’t you boys play for Wisconsin?”

“Wedding party.”

His eyes go over my head and search the floor until he sees the gaggle of girls wearing bridesmaid sashes, dressed in white, but then again, there are other bachelorette parties here tonight, so ours is no different.

“Gotcha.” He taps the bar top with three fingers. “I’ll grab your drinks.”

Tess’s lips move, and I can’t hear what she’s saying, so I lean in. “What was that now?”

“I said, must be nice to get recognized.”

My shoulders move up and down in a shrug. “Eh. Sometimes but not always.” I pause. “Did you not see how that chick Sissy reacted to me? That’s the shit that happens most days, and in those cases, it’s not cool being recognized.”

“She didn’t recognize you. She’s just a maneater.” Tess laughs. “She’s like that with everyone, no offense.”

Dillon brings back two drinks and sets them on the bar. “It’s on the house.”

“Now is it nice that you get recognized?” She stirs her cocktail with the thin black straw bobbing up and down in her drink, poking the lime inside with the end of it.

“Guess so.” I fish a ten dollar bill out of my wallet and slap it on the counter as a tip. “Thanks, man.” I hold the beer bottle up, tipping it toward him in salute, then tap it against Tess’s glass. “Here’s a toast.”

“A toast to what?” She sips her drink.

“A toast to…shit, I dunno. Lettin’ loose and havin’ fun?”

“I’ll toast to that, but it doesn’t seem like you’re letting loose at all or havin’ fun.” She laughs, looking me up and down and judging me a bit boring.

“What’s it gonna take for me to look like I’m havin’ fun?”

“I don’t know. We could go back on the dance floor, and you can show me what you got.”

“Show you what I’ve got? Darlin’, I don’t have nothin’.”

Tess is giggling, I’m sure of it. I can’t hear it, but I can see it in the way her eyes are lighting up.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say you’ve got nothin’. You have plenty.” She grabs my arm again the way she had before, pulling at me and tugging me toward the damn dance floor. Making me wonder why I opened my dumb big mouth.

A song about fishing in the dark comes on—a song that’s as old as dirt but a country classic—and arms are thrown in the air as people shout and stomp their feet to the tune, yelling the words of the chorus, most of them off-key.

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