The Bartender

We're Not Friends

"Hi," Camila said quietly, watching as Shawn stood behind the bar shaking up a cocktail. He looked up at her, not saying a word before looking back down and pouring the drink into the glass. He looked tired. "We missed you yesterday."

"Cute," he muttered sarcastically under his breath, still avoiding eye contact with her. Camila sighed and dropped her shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"Why do you care?" he snapped. Camila flinched and looked around to make sure no one was staring at them.

"B-because you seem upset and I just wanted to—"

"Well don't bother," he cut her off. "You don't need to worry about me."

"I'm just trying to be a good friend."

"We're not friends!" he spat. "You were a quick fuck who happened to get a job with me. That's all. I don't know what I did that made you think that we were besties but we're not so can you just leave me the fuck alone and mind your business?" This wasn't Shawn, at least not the one she knew. But his words hit her like a truck and she couldn't contain the tears that started burning in her eyes. "Stop crying. You have tables waiting for you." He turned and started cleaning up some dirty glasses left from previous patrons of the bar. Camila stood there dumbfounded at the interaction that just took place. Deciding not to say anything else, she stepped away from the bar and went back to taking care of her tables. She'd occasionally glance over to him but not once did she see the Shawn that she knew. He wasn't the charming, funny guy with a bright smile that could light up the entire restaurant anymore. He was hurting, that much she could tell. But why? 

Shawn felt horrible. He didn't mean a single word he said to her but it didn't matter. He said it. And maybe it was for the best. He needed to get her out of his system. She was hardly the first girl he'd slept with since his ex but she was the only one who was able to make him really feel something and that terrified him. Maybe it was better for him to cut her off now instead of continuing to keep her close and let her dig her way under his skin. He'd occasionally glance over to her throughout the day but she wasn't the same bubbly, happy girl that she usually was and it was all his fault. Of course it was. 

She went home after her shift without saying goodbye that day and the next seven. For a whole week they didn't talk unless absolutely necessary. Every night he debated texting her but every night he talked himself out of it. 

One day she showed up to work and he could've sworn she had somehow gotten even more beautiful since the last time he saw her — even though it had just been the day before. He couldn't stop staring at her and he was fairly certain she noticed. She'd occasionally glance over at him, flashing him a smile when they'd lock eyes. He'd always just quickly look away. He kept telling himself that distancing himself from her was for the best. And maybe it was. 

"Hey sexy." Shawn looked up to see Dolly standing there. "I need a pitcher of Bud Light."

"Coming right up." He grabbed a pitcher and put it under the Bud Light spout, holding it down until the pitcher was full. 

"Speaking of coming..." the blonde started, twirling a tendril of hair around her finger. "What are you doing tonight?" Shawn snorted out a laugh.

"You're really never gonna give up, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm single. You're single. Literally the only thing stopping you is this stupid rule about not hooking up with girls you work with which is a rule you made up and can easily break if you'd like." Shawn chuckled as he handed her the pitcher.

"Thanks for the offer...yet again."

"I mean seriously, what's stopping you?" He didn't mean to, but as soon as she asked the question he glanced up at Camila across the restaurant. Dolly followed his line of sight and giggled. "Oh, I see...that little crush on Camila still going strong?"

"I don't have a crush on her."

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?" She asked it in a joking way but honestly it him hard. Himself. That was the answer. He was only trying to convince himself. "I don't see what the big deal is," Dolly said, interrupting his thoughts. "I mean, yeah...you've got the reputation of being the 'hook up' guy who never commits to a girl but if you really want to be with her then just do it."

"I don't want to be with her." It was meant to be a statement but it came out more like a question. Dolly giggled and shook her head as she took the pitcher of beer to one of her tables.

He contemplated his feelings for her the rest of the day. Did he like her? Yes. He did. He already knew that. But he couldn't be with her. He could admire her from afar, but he couldn't be with her. He laid in bed that night trying to stop thinking about her but he couldn't. No matter what he tried he couldn't get her out of his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, admiring the few stars he could see through the skylight in his bedroom. He groaned loudly, running his hands over his face before finally giving in and grabbing his phone. He knew there was a large chance that he was going to regret sending the text but he didn't care. He didn't know what else to do.

S: Come over. I need you.