ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴀᴅ ɢɪʀʟ // $ᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇʙᴏʏ$

3

Aristos

Clover told me once that the only home she'd ever have is on the road. That was the only time I'd ever seen her face truly light up, and the image was burned in my memory forever.

I was strangely tempted to buy her a car, but even if she'd accepted it, that would never do. Wouldn't it have been inappropriate in some way?

But just occasionally, in bed at night, I wondered if a wild spark like Clover would be worth dropping everything for. Damn, I needed Scott to talk me down.

I told him once, after too many drinks, that I'd run away with a girl like Clover. We could travel around on some magical gypsy adventure, she and I, in an old Volkswagen bus.

Scott told me I was a fucking idiot and sent me back to my house to sleep off my crazy admission.

I took it all back in the morning, but there was no fooling him. He knew me far too well.

That was exactly why I decided to text him.

He replied to my text before I was even through the door.

She's gone?

My reply was hard even to type. Gone.

I could imagine his sharp inhalation of breath. My phone pinged a few seconds later.

St. Roch Tavern. I'll be there in fifteen.

I twisted my hat around my head until it was backwards as I headed across the street. The Seventh Ward was a shitty area but it was all I'd ever known.

I saw him heading down the road in the opposite direction before I'd even made it to St. Roch.

I held the door until he joined me, and he slapped me on the back as we headed inside. St. Roch was one of those typical drinking holes. A dimly lit bar with a good selection of local ales and a random collection of tables and chairs that didn't match, but it suited the place. We headed to the bar, and Scott ordered. The first slug of ale went down my throat, and we headed over to a table in the corner. Scott kicked back and took off his hoodie, then he eyed me with that easy smile.

"Rough day, then, bro?"

I breathed out a sigh. "Yep."

"What's gonna become of the lil' problem?"

I shrugged. "Hopefully she'll be able to stay with my parents. Hopefully she'll even change her mind about college."

He'd never seen Clover Blanche, but he'd heard enough to be as skeptical as I was. "Not your problem anymore," he told me. "You did what ya could."

"What if everyone just did what they could and it's not enough?"

He leaned forward. "Bruh, you need to rein in that conscience, it's easier to sleep at night."

"I sleep just fine," I lied.

"Dreaming of your wild princess, no doubt." His smile was bright. "We should hit Bourbon Street for a night out, see if we can't hook you up with someone who ain't either too young or determined to self-destruct."

The thought of meeting someone else seemed distant. I had no appetite for dating and all that shit since things ended with me and Krystal last year. That was one of the many things my cousin and I had in common- we were both not-so-lucky in love. Scott was engaged for a while to this bitch from our high school who was way more interested in his fame than she was in him. That ended explosively, but he didn't seem too hung up on it.

While I was cooped up with Krystal, Scott fucked around. I wouldn't even had liked to guess how many women he'd had in his bed and in his life. But still, here we both were, single and aging a little more every month.

"Maybe you should hit Bourbon," I said. "The women there are more your type."

"The women there are anyone's type after a couple of Xans, don't let the pretentiousness of the place fool you." He swigged back his beer, then stared at me. "You'll get over this. Give it some time."

"There's nothing to get over." I said.

"You give a shit about her, that's likely more than anyone else can say about the girl."

"Sad but true." I sipped my beer but my throat felt tight. My whole body felt tight. "I can't just let her walk away. She'll head straight into trouble."

Scott straightened in his seat. "Trouble that ain't your problem. Ya need to get a grip on this, Ari. She's gone."

"I achieved nothing."

He sighed. "Who knows what difference you made to her? It's impossible to say how our words impact another, and if your advice ain't welcome now there's nothing to say she won't remember it later."

I raised my glass. "To your stupid words."

He raised his.

My gut felt strangely empty. A sense of loss below the struggle for rationality.

I took a deep breath, attempting to quell my inner turmoil.

"She's gone," I said, as if saying it out loud would put a lid on it.

"She is," he replied.

"Far away from here most likely."

"You should hope so, for your own sanity," Scott said, and he was right.

I should've hoped I didn't see Clover again. I should've hoped that she found happiness with a young, spirited guy her own age, someone decent and caring.

But no.

Of course not.

I heard her voice before I saw her. I'd have recognized that laugh anywhere, full of life and mischief rolled together. The bar door creaked on its big old hinges and in stumbled a guy in a hoodie who we used to sell with years ago. Eli Stevens, who sold drugs from the back of his van.

Clover stumbled on in after him, and my beer caught in my throat.

Her pale cheeks were flushed pink and her legs seemed wobbly. Drunk. She was fucking drunk.

Eli lurched into the bar and she followed him, pointing out a tequila bottle on the back shelf.

Scott turned slowly in his seat, looked from them to me and back again.

"Is that-"

"Yeah," I said.

"What the fuck," he muttered, "but she's-"

"Underage," I finished. "Yeah, she is, bro."

He slammed a hand on my wrist as I rose from my seat. "Not. Your. Problem," he said, and his blue eyes were icy. I shook him off more roughly than I intended.