Page 20 of Rogue's Path
Maybe I have if I’m talking out loud without realizing it. “Can we do this?” Somehow between the fancy bar and karaoke, the two of us became friends.
She turns to me wide-eyed. “You made a date with a strange man at a bar that you’re pretty sure has killed people. What’s this in comparison?”
Nothing. But now I need a drink more than ever. Dahlia must be tipping well. It doesn’t take but a second to get the waitress' attention. An activity like this calls for a wild drink. “We’ll take two fuzzy navels please.”
“That sounds terrible.” Cordelia grimaces as soon as the waitress walks away.
She’s right. What woman would ever want a fuzzy navel? What would you say? Like please excuse the weird moss growing in my navel. Let me just wear a bikini and show it off. So gross. How could I put that in a book?
A woman who’s been teased for her entire life because of her abnormal hair growth lashes out and starts murdering women on the beach… It would definitely work as a thriller. But I’d probably gag every time I had to write a description. “It’s a peach liquor with orange juice.”
“That kind of sounds like a peach smoothie.”
It does. Maybe I can order that from room service tomorrow morning along with half a dozen pancakes to soak up all the booze we’re drinking.
Daria, Fiona, and Knight step onto the stage. Daria can’t speak. How is she planning on—Their hands start moving with the music and the room goes quiet. About the only things I’ve learned in ASL are hello and help. This is on a whole new level of beauty.
This has to be the best form of karaoke I’ve ever seen. They had to have prepared this in advance.
“We’re up next,” Cordelia whispers.
What? No. I needed to go after someone who sounded like a cat screaming while dragging its fingernails across a chalkboard.
Not this.
There’s no way my not-wonderful self can stand up and sing after them.
No way.
No how.
The waitress sets my drink down, and I down it like it's liquid courage and not stupidity in a glass.
Why did I agree to do this? I wobble a little as we step up the two stairs onto the stage. Smart not making it too high up for the semi-drunk people who force themselves to do this.
In every book and movie, they always say the lights shine in their eyes blinding them. Right now I wish that was happening. Everyone…I can see every single person sitting in front of me waiting, watching, preparing to judge me.
Why didn’t I get the shining lights? I should stop looking at all the faces. But today doesn’t seem to be my day to make smart choices. Who let a sexy man in here? This space isreserved for crazy women. Or at least I thought it was. I certainly fit that description.
There’s another one. And another one. And another one. We’re being invaded.
Why hasn’t this music started already? I cannot handle this. Next time, I’m drinking two fuzzy navels. Or maybe seeing if they can add them to an IV.
Cordelia gives me a smile as the music starts.
***
“We’re totally pretending that never happened. What karaoke bar? I didn’t sing off-key for three minutes while missing every fourth word.” This country honky tonk—can it even be called a honky tonk this far north—is filled with people in shiny boots and shirts with fringe.
Dahlia stops in front of us. “We can’t stay here long because we have one more stop! Anyone that wants to find a man to buy them a drink—this is the place. We will commence the choreographed dance in twenty minutes. So, find yourself a free drink.”
My body doesn’t need a free drink. Whatever it was that I drank right after embarrassing myself enough to last the next twenty years was stronger than I thought.
We should probably find food. Something to help with all this booze swirling around in my gut.
“Maybe I’ll get to wear the crown again if I get the most drinks. See you at the dance.” Cordelia bounces off.
Um…Getting the most drinks before our dance might not be the best idea. But she’s already at a table talking to a bunch of guys.
