Christmas Break

Chapter 5

Sterling

It had been quite the night, and Sterling couldn't wait to be done with it. College kids, freshly off exam season, were animals, and The Snowball's Chance had become their zoo. Sterling had broken up two fights, ejected eight troublemakers, and moped up more bright green melon alcohol than he'd ever seen in his life.

What was it about the holidays that brought out the worst in everyone? he thought.

Thankfully, the night was almost over. The last call had been announced ten minutes ago, and Olly had swapped the Christmas music from booming electronica to dreamy choir covers, making all the inebriated patrons heavy-headed and sleepy-eyed, eager to hurry home to their beds.

Most of the crowd had already cleared out. There were only a few stragglers left... including the girl.

The redhead in the green dress—Alicia's friend. She was pretty, he had to admit, with her coppery curls and green eyes, but he couldn't forget what she had said.

Only truly damaged people get tattoos.

Usually, he didn't let patrons and the pointless nonsense they said bother him. They didn't know them, and they never would—so why get upset? But for some reason, what she had said had bothered him.

If she'd called him a jerk, or an asshole, or a nobody, that would've washed right off. Those were shallow insults, easily thrown at anyone.

But she hadn't said that.

Damaged.

That one cut deep. Maybe it was because that was what his dad always said. Maybe it bothered him so much because she was right. After all, you didn't jump from town to town, picking up whatever job you could and never staying in one place for long if you were well-adjusted.

In the hours since Alicia and her friend had nabbed the first table—a booth—they saw. He figured the girl in green had wanted to get away from him. Now she was sitting there, looking defeated, nursing her second Grinch. He'd cut her off at number two, but that apparently was still too much. She must not drink very often if they were hitting her that hard.

Fortunately, Alicia had a better handle on her alcohol and was keeping her eye on her.

"I'm going to call us a cab," Alicia announced at the table, her volume knob still tuned to shouting over the techno so Sterling could hear her loud and clear.

Her friend in green gave a solemn nod.

Alicia left her there and came to the bar, where Sterling was busy wiping everything down in preparation for closing.

"Hey Sterling," Alicia said, grinning. "Can you call a cab for us? I don't think Celeste is in any state to walk home."

Celeste. So that was her name.