the one who got away

I

Beatrice Adams was an exceptionally good liar.

She had spent her entire adolescence lying to her parents. She knew if she did not lie, she would have been disciplined. She spent her entire adolescence lying to her teachers. She knew if she did not lie, she would have been kicked out of school. She is spending her entire adult life lying to everyone. She knew if she did not, she would be arrested. She has built her entire life upon a mountain of lies, for she truly did not know what the truth was anymore.

Blue Moon Bar. Wednesday night. 11:45 PM. Beatrice sat alone in a booth, sketching the face of one of the male bartenders onto a napkin. She loved to people watch. The bar was fairly empty as most were not intending on getting drunk on a weeknight but, nonetheless, still full of potential prey. With her poor people skills, Beatrice preferred to take advantage of people in a weaker state: intoxicated. Tonight, she was feeling a bit spontaneous, so she was in search of a man absolutely drunk off his ass to take with her.

As she was sketching the buttons of the bartender's shirt, a victim approached that was practically begging to be chosen. A tall man slid in the seat across the table from Beatrice, a half-filled bottle of beer in his right hand. His breath reeked of alcohol; it was appropriate to assume he had been drinking at the bar for quite a while. He had thick facial hair that covered the bottom half of his face and a full head of wavy brown hair. Clinging to his chest was a maroon football jersey for the Colorado Rapids that squeezed his biceps in the sleeve. Beatrice lifted her gaze from her napkin to the man, who was staring across the table with a smirk across his lips.

"What's a pretty lady like you doin' sitting all alone?" His words were slurred. "Couldn't help but think you were just waitin' for some company like me to come along to make your night more interesting."

Beatrice put on her fakest smile to seem interested in this man, despite wanting to reach across the table and make a scene. She folded the napkin she was sketching on and shoved cloth into her tote bag. This man was the perfect candidate for the intentions she had for the remainder of her night, so she had to continue her role of the vulnerable woman searching for a date. To conceal her appearance in case someone happened to notice their interaction, Beatrice dressed in a tight black dress, heart-shaped glasses from the dollar store, and a wig of wavy blonde hair.

"What's your name, sugar?" He asked to keep the conversation going when it became obvious Beatrice wasn't going to respond.

"Winnie Fisher," That was a lie. It wasn't necessary for him to know her real name. "And yours?"

"Chris Green." The man nodded towards the glass cup sitting in front of Beatrice. "Whatcha drinkin'? Anything good?"

"Vodka." That was another lie. It was water. It wasn't like he could tell the difference.

Chris whistled. "I sure do love a woman who can hold down her liquor."

"I'd say we have fairly similar taste then," Beatrice crossed her arms across her chest. Chris immediately lost his focus from their conversation and redirected his attention towards the cleavage that was revealed from her dress. He was falling right into her trap, and she was enjoying every moment.

"Say," Chris took a swig of his beer and slammed the bottle onto the table. "How bout you and me get out of this dump? Go back to my place?"

Beatrice smiled again, but this one was genuine. The adrenaline was beginning to kick in. They would soon be alone, and she would be able to proceed with her plan. "As long as I drive, okay? I think you've had a little too much to drink tonight."

Chris extended his elbow, Beatrice wrapped her hand around his arm, and the two walked out of the bar together. Outside of the Blue Moon was dimly lit by a singular streetlight, but perfectly shone onto Beatrice's red Toyota Matrix in the parking lot. As they approached the car, Beatrice noticed Chris was more drunk than originally noticed. He was stumbling and would nearly trample her when he lost his balance but would immediately giggle and continue to walk. Beatrice held in every ounce of strength to not unleash her rage on him in the parking lot.