Page 69 of Heal Me

“Give me just a sec and we’ll go,” I tell everyone, typing a reply with a big smile on my face.

Me: I’m out with friends celebrating, about to hit a bar. I shouldn’t be out too late.

Gabe: Sounds more fun than what I’m doing, prepping for an arbitration. Be safe, text me when you’re home.

Me: I will.

Gabe’s extremely protective, yet he took the whole I’m going to a bar without him news really well. I didn’t tell him which bar, but he didn’t ask. He’s working, and the last thing I want to do is cause him worry, so I drop my phone back in my purse.

“The dreamy smile tells me that was Gabe,” Jen guesses.

“When do we get to meet him?” Zoe demands.

“He’s working this evening.”

“What does he do?” Stephanie asks.

“Business consultant.”

“What does that mean?” Jen asks.

“We’d better get going,” I say, ushering everyone along to our parked cars, dodging the question about my boyfriend’s employment. “Jen and I’ll meet you there,” I tell Zoe and Stephanie.

“Is Elliot going to meet up with us?” I ask Jen, starting my car and turning out of the parking lot.

“No. We broke up,” Jen says, checking her lipstick in the mirror.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “I ended things, and honestly, it’s for the best. I’m moving to Boston on Sunday, and he’s staying here for law school. We don’t have what it takes for a long-distance relationship. How do you and your boyfriend make it work?”

“We just make it work.” It also helps when your boyfriend has teleportation power.

“There’s no way I could trust Elliot if we were in different cities. Hell, I couldn’t even trust him when we were in the same city.” That little twinge of insecurity about Gabe’s ex popping up in Boston rises to the surface, but I shove it down. He’s given me no reason not to trust him.

Snagging a decent parking spot, I feed the meter and place the receipt on my dashboard, locking my car as we walk over to the bar. A tiny part of me worries being back here might be triggering, but I don’t feel any crippling waves of anxiety as we step inside.

The bouncer checks our IDs, and we make our way through the bar. Just as I remembered—loud, stinky, and smoky. We order a drink, and then weave our way through the crowd to the back outdoor patio.

Spotting our group, we take a seat with friends from class. Stephanie and Zoe soon join us, with a tray full of shots. “First round’s on me. Can you believe we’re graduating Saturday?” Stephanie squeals excitedly as she throws back a tequila shot. Making a face, she quickly sucks on the lime.

She slides a shot glass over to me but I shake my head no. “I’ll take hers,” Jen says as she tosses back the tequila.

It’s not long before everyone’s laughing and telling stories. “Oh my God, remember when Dr. Jordan’s toupee almost fell off during lab? It was literally sideways on his head for the entire hour and nobody had the balls to tell him,” Stephanie says and we all laugh. Our group dwindles down until it’s just the four of us.

“I’m going to get us another round,” Jen says as she walks inside.

“Jen said you’re bailing on Harvard,” Zoe asks, and then throws back a shot.

I nod. “I’m staying in Memphis. I’ve been accepted to a midwifery program.”

“A mid-whatery program?” Zoe asks.

“I think she’s serious.” Stephanie’s words are a bit slurred, those shots starting to kick in.

Glancing around the bar, I spot a familiar face. “Excuse me, I’ll be back in a minute.”

I walk over and tap William’s shoulder, and he turns around and drags me in for a big bear hug. “Twice in one semester. This is like spotting an endangered species. The bookworm Charlotte rarely comes out of her library burrow. Seeing a Charlotte in the wild is quite a rare occurrence,” he says in a very poor imitation of an Australian accent.

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