Page 5 of Space Junk: Houston, We Have a Hottie
When my sister sees me she smiles, raising her arms in the air for a hug. Suddenly I’m transported back to when we were kids, when it seemed Rose’s arms were always raised, wanting someone to hold or hug her. Anyone to fill the void our parents left.
But really, Mom and Dad hadn’t been around much when they were alive, so I don’t think much would’ve changed for any of us West kids.
I bend down and encircle Rose in my arms, pulling her into a tight hug. It’s what I should’ve done every time in the past, but I’d been too much of a self-important douche to show my sister the affection she deserved.
“How does twenty-one feel?” I ask, straightening and stepping back.
Her eyes are heavy-lidded when she replies, “Same day, different shit.”
Her mixed-up words have me taking a closer look. Her legs are hooked in the barstool rungs, back slightly slumped forward, elbow propping her up on the table. “I was going to head out, but maybe I better stay. You don’t look too with-it.”
She snorts. “It’s my twenty-first birthday. I’m not supposed to be with-it. In fact, I think I would categorically declare anyone’s twenty-first birthday a failure of epic proportions if they were at all ‘with-it.’”
She uses air quotes at the end, which has me smiling. Some of the tension I’ve been carrying on my shoulders lifts. Rose is her own unique brand of girl. I should trust her not to make the same mistakes I made when I was younger. She’s so much smarter than I ever was. And Rose was young when our parents died, so they hadn’t quite messed her up the way they did Holt and me.
At least, I hope not.
I tap her on the nose with my finger, chuckling when she glares at me. “Understood.” I go to pull out the stool next to her, but she blocks me.
“Flynn, it’s awesome that you came to wish me happy birthday. I mean, thatiswhy I wanted to celebrate here instead of downtown, but you don’t need to stay. Really. I’m a big girl.” She points to the sash draped across her chest proclaiming her legal. “All grown up.”
“You’ll always be my baby sister, Rose.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “Now stop cramping my style with all the brooding. Get laid or something, will you?”
“Christ, Rose. Don’t say things like that.”
“Dude. Someone has to. The stick up your ass can’t be all that comfortable.”
Laughter erupts from my throat and I shake my head. “You sure you’re okay?” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “You done drinking for the night?”
“Yes, overlord. Pam and I will have our asses driven downtown. We’re heading back to my condo in a bit.”
“All right.” More tension ebbs once my mind absorbs that I’ll be free of these people soon. “Love you, Rose. Be safe.”
“You too. I left condoms in the kitchen pantry for you.” She smirks. “Remember, no glove, no love.”
“Jesus.”
* * *
Jackie
I’ve never had to take a drunk girl home before. This is not what I had in mind for Operation Social Life, but here I am, trying to haul a semi-comatose birthday girl through the bar. Jules is going to think I’m a lesbian when she debriefs me on my night out. First talking to the waitress and now driving a girl home.
Ten minutes earlier, I found Rose leaning over the sink in the bathroom, having a conversation with herself in the mirror. Something about promising herself to find new friends. Apparently, all hers left without her. She’d been attempting to call an Uber when I told her I’d give her a ride home. I don’t know why. Maybe because I know what winding up alone on your birthday feels like.
But beyond that, I seem to have little in common with Rose. The drunk girl.
She’s the girl I always pictured as the heroine when reading my cowboy romance novels that Jules likes to harass me about. Rose has big hair and a short denim skirt that’s topped off with a plaid button-down with genuine pearl button snaps. The front tails of her shirt are tied, making the shirt more crop top than anything. What with her high-heeled cowboy boots, she is quintessentially country.
“Put your arm around me,” I huff.
Rose is currently slumped against me, and at this point I’m basically carrying her. She isn’t heavy, even with her thick-heeled boots, but she isn’t light either. My only thought at this point is that I need to work out more. That and a pulley or lever system would be really helpful right about now.
“Jackie?”
I turn too suddenly, and Rose falls to the floor.
