Page 11 of Whiskey Lullaby
Meg attempted to breeze past him, but he blocked the entrance, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, well, well.” His thin lips drew into a smug smile. “Meg and Hannah. Just like the good oledays.”
“Shut it, Brian,” Meg said, attempting to step around him, but he didn’tbudge.
His eyes narrowed. “Imma need to see someID.”
“Really?” Meg snatched her purse from her shoulder, pulling out her license and handing it to him. I grabbed mine from my wallet while he inspected hers. “Ten dollars,” he said, the smile evident in his tone as he took her hand and drew a massive black “X” overit.
“Since when has Tipsy’s had acover?”
He was trying to wind her up, which, in all honesty, wasn’t hard to do. She was already tapping the toe of her high heel over the gravel. And I’m sure if I could have seen her face her nostrils would have been flaring like abull.
“Hi, Brian,” I said sweetly, giving him mylicense.
“Hannah.” He winked before giving my ID a flippant glance then handing it back to me. He marked a microscopic “X” on my hand and waved us through thedoor.
“He’s such an asshole,” Meg grumbled as we stepped over the threshold onto the uneven linoleum floor. “I hate that he’s seen menaked.”
She slept with every guy she could, and like I said, she looked like a pageant queen, so there was never a shortage of boys. People used to think I hung out with her in an effort to bring her to Jesus. They were wrong. I hung out with her because I liked her. “Meg, honestly, who hasn’t seen younaked?”
“Well, I wishhehadn’t.”
The inside of the bar was already packed. A thin haze of smoke swirled through the air, and the aroma of stale beer and body odor nearly knocked my feet out from underneath me. “Oh my God...” Icoughed.
“You forgot how awesome this place was, huh?” Meg grinned before running her hand over the wall plastered with crumpled dollar bills and chewedgum.
“Oh yes, soamazing.”
The speakers in the corner of the room popped and crackled. The shrill feedback that followed pierced my eardrums and I quickly covered my ears. When the noise faded, it was replaced by a throaty laugh. “Sorry ‘bout that.” The soothing southern drawl of a guy’s voice came through the speakers followed by the lazy rhythm of aguitar.
We shouldered our way through the tiny room toward the bar. Benji Martin stood behind the tiny bar pouring drinks with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He was the star quarterback at Rockford High, he had a scholarship to Alabama but the spring before graduation he was in a hunting accident. Benji wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, bless him, rested the shotgun right on his boot and accidentally pulled the trigger. Blew his toe clean off, then gangrene set in and, well, losing a foot didn’t bode well for his footballcareer.
“Hey, Benji!” Meg whistled athim.
“Meg, you have a huge ‘X’ on yourhand.”
She rolled one shoulder. “Like Benji cares.” He walked over with his slight limp and leaned against thecounter.
“McKinney, you’re gonna be an alchy before you’re legal todrink.”
“Pssh, please. Give me a Fireball and…” She turned to look at me. “Want adrink?”
“Coke.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to Bub. “A Fireball and aCoke.”
While I waited, the guy next to me made a catcall. I ignored him, and he called me a bitch under his breath before walking off and hitting on another girl. Whatever line he threw at her must have worked, because she smiled, playfully curling the end of her hair around her finger. Some girls go for cheap flirtation, I guess, and most guys go for girls who go forthat…
“Mmmm.” The soft hum of his voice poured through the speaker, mixing perfectly with the sullen notes of the guitar. “You can’t blame it on that woman,” he sung, and chills raced down my arm. I had a visceral reaction to the torment laced within that guy’s voice and I soaked it up. “Please don’t blame it on yourlies…”
“Damn,” Meg said beside me. When I opened my eyes, she was holding out my drink. “That guy cansing.”
“Yeah.” I took my glass while she handed Bub her debit card. “It’samazing.”
“His voice sounds like sex—not that you understand what I’m saying,” she laughed, but I didn’t laugh back. “Oh come on, Hannah.” She shoved me. “I’m just giving you shit for saving yourself, or whatever it is your doing to your poorvagina.”
My poor vagina?Some random guy beside her chuckled, swaying on his stool. I glared at her. “I’mpicky.”
She snort-laughed. “That’soneway to put it.” She couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why I hadn’t slept withsomeone.
