Under the Grit

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Evangeline sat back at the table, her drink in hand, but her mind was elsewhere. The music that had once filled her with excitement now drifted past her ears, barely registering. She stared down at the rim of her glass, absentmindedly swirling the liquid around, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that had settled deep in her chest.

Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen were chatting beside her, laughing about something, but Evangeline found it hard to engage. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the girl's cruel words, the nasty look she'd thrown her way. It had been so quick, so venomous, and yet it had cut deep, making her question why she had even bothered coming tonight.

She sighed quietly, her eyes flicking to the stage. The band was still playing, their music energetic and raw, but she wasn't really paying attention anymore. It felt distant, like it was coming from another room entirely. All she could focus on was the knot of emotions tightening in her stomach—hurt, embarrassment, and a confusing tangle of guilt that she didn't even understand.

Evangeline shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing around the bar. The dim lighting, the chatter of people around her, and the clinking of glasses felt like they were closing in, her usual anxious thoughts creeping in. Why had that girl been so quick to judge her? And why did it bother her so much?

She took a slow sip of her drink, trying to calm her nerves, but the feeling of unease remained. No matter how hard she tried to shake it off, the weight of that brief encounter pressed down on her, leaving her restless and distracted.

From the stage, the band called their goodnights to the patrons, the music fading into a hum of lingering chatter. The crowd began to stir, people grabbing their jackets and finishing their drinks as they moved toward the exit. Evangeline cast one last look at the stage, hoping for a final glimpse of the night that had started off so exciting, now ending with a strange hollowness in her chest.

As she glanced up, her eyes met the vocalist's. The space between them felt charged for a moment—his gaze holding hers like he had something to say but wasn't going to. Her pulse quickened again, the earlier tension resurfacing in her chest.

Just as quickly as the moment settled between them, Karen drunkenly bumped into Evangeline, breaking the spell. "Oops, sorry!" she laughed, her words slurred and carefree. She stumbled off with a wink, heading straight for the drummer who had been casting glances her way all night. Without hesitation, Karen slid into the seat of a corner booth beside him, her laughter loud enough to cut through the buzz of the bar.
Evangeline shook her head, a small smile pulling at her lips despite the lingering discomfort in her chest. Karen never wasted a moment, especially when it came to men.

Tilly slipped her jacket on, glancing at Evangeline with a knowing look. "You okay?" she asked, her voice quiet, the buzz of the bar dying down as people began to head out.

Evangeline shrugged, trying to shake off the tension still lingering from her encounter outside. "Yeah... I'm fine," she said, though her tone didn't sound convincing even to herself.

Tilly studied her for a second, her brows furrowed. "What happened?" she asked softly, walking closer so they could talk without Mary-Beth overhearing.

Evangeline hesitated, not wanting to give too much away but feeling the need to talk about it. "I went outside to smoke earlier, and, uh, I ran into him. Your brother." Her pulse quickened just from saying it, the weight of the encounter still pressing on her chest.

Tilly's expression shifted, her brow furrowing in frustration. "Arthur," she muttered, the name slipping from her lips with clear annoyance.

Evangeline blinked, surprised by the sudden change in Tilly's demeanor. "Arthur?" she echoed, not recognizing the name but sensing there was more behind it.