The Tree Remembers

Keep Protecting

"You can go, Nick," I said, tossing another empty bottle of vodka into the trash. He grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"You want to hang back with Eddie?" he teased. I rolled my eyes.

"If you want to stay and work a dead bar, please be my guest. I thought you'd might want to go, but my mistake—"

"No, no, that's not what I said!" he replied, quickly washing his hands. I continued to wash glasses and he leaned close to my face. "Give the hot metalhead a chance – he seems to like you."

"Goodbye, Nick," I snapped. He laughed and kissed my cheek before prancing off. I glanced around to take stock of who was left.

An older pair of regulars were guffawing and slapping each other's back over their beers. Eric was off by himself, glaring at me as he sipped at his vodka on the rocks. I sighed when I saw Eddie beaming at me, pink faced and tipsy, drinking it at his whiskey. Gareth and Jeff had left about thirty minutes ago, but Eddie insisted on staying behind. I sighed when he stood and started walking over to me, a shit-eating grin across his face. He set his elbows on the bar.

"I need to tell you – I think you are the only person who could make washing dishes look so good," he flirted. I rolled my eyes.

"Another whiskey, Mr. Munson?" I asked, picking the bottle up and pouring it before he could answer.

"It does things to me when you call me that, Belle," he said, winking at me. I felt a pang in my stomach.

"I'll do my best not to call you anything, then," I quipped, making him laugh. He sat at one of the counter stools and I felt a wave of panic. "Are you seriously going to sit there?"

"I thought you might want company," he replied, smiling brightly. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I'm shocked you're capable of thought," I snapped, going back to the dishes. "And you thought wrong."

"Can't think of anything – you're the only thing occupying my mind these days," he said. I scoffed and went back to work. He drummed his fingers on the bar. "Can't talk to me when your boyfriend's not here?"

"Boyfriend?" I asked before stopping myself. He gestured around the bar.

"Yeah, that bartender," he replied. In spite of my annoyance, I smiled. Nick's boyfriend would get a kick out of that.

"No, Nick isn't my boyfriend," I replied. He kept drumming the table.

"But your boyfriend wouldn't want you talking to me?"

I rolled my eyes. I knew what he was doing.

"I don't want to talk to you, that should be enough."

"So, you don't have a boyfriend," he said, proud of himself. I glared at him and went back to my work

It was quiet for a beat, and I finally looked up. He was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite place. I furrowed my brows.

"Why don't you like me?" he asked. I felt my chest tighten and worked my hardest to keep my expression steely.

"Why do I need to like you?" I asked back. He furrowed his brows.

"I mean, I just don't understand it."

"Hard to imagine someone not appreciating your entitled attitude and unfounded confidence?" I snapped.

---

I watched Elle for a beat and shrugged.

"I mean, I get that – one of my best friends has been pissed at me for the last month because of that," I replied, trying to make her laugh. I leaned forward and looked at my whiskey. "I just don't get why you hate me so much."