Page 11 of Feel It All

“Oh yes, that one is one of my favorites,” Wyla says, just as eager.

“Sounds good to me, but I am definitely going to need a celebratory shot for no more Flynn in my life.”

“Brilliant,” Waverly jumps up. “I will go get three shots of whiskey from the bar.”

“So are you really okay, Winry?”

“Yes Wyla, I promise I am fine. Us breaking up was a good thing.” I take my seat across from her.

“I know that, but that does not mean that it can’t suck also. I mean, you didn’t even wallow for the standard three days.”

“I swear I am good; I gave myself the night to feel sad for myself, and I decided that was all he was worth.” I dust my hands of him.

“Okay if you say so.” I know Wyla wants to push more. My whole family likes to tiptoe around my mental health like it’s a ticking time bomb or something. Thankfully, I do not have to dwell on that thought long because Waverley returns with the three shots.

“Here we go, sisters. To being single and living our best lives with or without men.” She passes them out then raises her glass.

“Amen to that,” I say as I raise my glass then throw it back.

“So, Winry, have you met your new neighbor yet?” Waverley asks with a post-shot look on her face.

“Um, yeah, I have. He is actually one of Dad’s new officers, but I have not really seen him much. You know, police schedule and all.” It is only half a lie really; I mean, what defines “much”?

“But you have seen him, right? What does he look like, how old is he?” Waverley has always been the nosey one.

“I do not know, I mean I guess he is kind of attractive, he seems a little older than us,” I do my best to deflect.

“You guess? Kind of? Winry, come on.”

“I am serious, look, I have hardly spoken to him,” I lie.

Before they can ask any more questions, my saving grace comes. The DJ calls our names for us to head up to the stage. We head up there and, to put it lightly, we kill it; as usual, we have Waverley to thank. Something about her energy is infectious, and it spreads out to the crowd. We get so caught up in our night that, thankfully, the topic of Graham doesn’t come up again.

The next morning, I meet my sisters again, but this time at Crossroads, and we all seem to be suffering a bit of a hangover. I technically work today, but Abigal is going to cover the morning shift with Ivy, and I will take over after my sisters leave.

“Someone remind me whose idea it was to take shots of whiskey last night,” Wyla asks while rubbing her temples. “Because I hate them.”

“It was Winry’s idea to take shots,” Waverley accuses me like she was an innocent bystander.

“Um, I believe it was your idea for them to be whiskey,” I fire back.

“I hate you both then,” Wyla groans.

“You love us,” I challenge her disdain for us.

“I guess, but never again will I drink whiskey.” We laugh knowing that we will all drink whiskey again. Sometimes you just need the strong stuff.

“Anyway, I was thinking we should—” Wyla starts to change the subject, but Waverley cuts her off.

“Who is that? Oh, come to momma, that man is gorgeous.”

I turn to look, and I see Graham, looking just like Waverley said, gorgeous. Why does this man have to be so attractive, and why must he always be around when I put so little effort into my appearance? I am wearing pink biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt. It’s our short day open here, so I didn’t even bother to put on makeup. Granted, he is just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but still he looks too good. Graham spots me almost immediately. Crossroads is not very big, and it is not like I can climb under the table and hide from him.

“Winry, he is looking at you,” Waverley interrupts my mini panic attack, “Oh, he’s coming over.”

“Hey, Winry, I thought I would come see your place before I crashed for the day,” Graham says as he reaches our table.

“Yeah, I am glad you stopped by,” we hold eye contact and again it doesn’t feel weird. It’s like his eyes just suck me in. Waverly kicks me under the table to snap me out of it.

---