Page 55 of Last Call at the Local

Raine launches into the story as we walk back to the pub. We don’t acknowledge the hand-holding. Everything about her storytelling is big and loud. Her voice. How she talks with her free hand.She’s so animated, and the story is so winding, that it takes all of my attention to follow it.

It’s only when we arrive back at the pub that she drops my hand. She turns to me, bouncing on her heels as she finishes her story. Afterward, there’s a moment of quiet. Someone opens the door, and the music within the pub floats out to us.

“You don’t have to stay,” she says.

I look from her to the pub. I hate feeling like I want to come inside with her but can’t. I hate that my own head is driving me away from everything I want. “I’d love to stay for a while, it’s just...”

“A bad brain day.”

I laugh. “A bad brain day. I like that. And... yeah, that’s exactly the sort of day I’m having.”

“It’s probably for the best. If we spendtoomuch time together, you’ll get bored of me.”

“I really doubt that, ciaróg.”

We say goodnight, and after Raine disappears inside the pub, I linger out on the pavement. I want to sayfuck itand go inside. I want to tell her I’ve changed my mind. About tonight. About being hermost professional coworker.

The door swings open, and someone steps outside. Music floods out to me again. Everything I want is inside this pub right now. I catch a glimpse of red hair within the pub and know it’s her. The door begins to swing shut, hiding her from view. The moment before it closes, I grab the edge of the door, pulling it open again so I can slip inside.

I make my way through the crowd, and the thoughts come. I let them, trying to do what I know works. I can do this. I’ve done this before. When I reach Raine, I lean close so she can hear me. “You did great.”

Raine spins to face me, whipping me in the face with her hair. “You stayed!” She’s practically dancing in place, wearing a smile Iknow I’ll spend the rest of the night thinking about. She stretches up on her toes so her mouth reaches my ear. “You’ll be okay?”

I’m not sure, but I want to try. Already, the anxiety has my every sense painfully alert. “I think so.”

She gives me a gentle smile. She turns to face the musicians again and, stepping closer to me, slips her fingers through mine.

I look over at her, but her eyes are on the music. Her hand in mine doesn’t take the thoughts away or make me feel better. But it gives me something to hold on to when I have no idea if I’ll sink or swim. It’s a reminder of why I’m putting myself through this torture.

I’m not well. I haven’t been able to admit that, not even to myself.

I’m not well.

But I’m going to get better.

Thirteen

Raine

Jack makes it through most of the band’s set before he disappears. Once the pub closes and everyone else has gone home, I sit at the bar and stare at my phone, contemplating whether or not I should text him.

“I should, right?” I say to the empty bar. But by the time I’ve finished my sentence, I’ve typed out my text and sent it.

Raine

You okay?

“I’m okay.”

I nearly drop my phone at the sound of Jack’s voice. When I look up, I find him at the door to the kitchen.

“I thought you went home,” I say.

“Nah.” He stands behind the bar, directly opposite of where I’m sitting. When he rests his elbows on the bar, I drop my gaze to his hands and think about how it felt to hold his hand in mine. He mustbe thinking the same thing, because he leans a little closer and his hand brushes against mine and lingers there.

“Are you really okay?” I ask.

“I’m really okay,” he says. “How’d the rest of the set go? Sounded like a success from where I was hiding out in my office.”

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