Ella Sullivan is an 18-year-old high school senior with a sharp wit and a penchant for sarcasm. Her life revolves around her close-knit group of friends and the love for her dog. But her world is thrown into disarray when she encounters Ms. Catherin...
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———༺✵༻——— POV Ella ———༺✵༻———
The sound of glasses clinking, low chatter, and the soft hum of jazz music fills the air as I move behind the bar, preparing drinks for the Saturday night crowd. It's busy tonight, but not the kind of busy that feels overwhelming. It's more of a buzz—an energy that pulses through the room, making the night feel alive. I've always liked the way the bar feels on a night like this. The warm lights casting soft shadows on the bottles behind me, the way the customers lean in close to talk over the music, the steady rhythm of people coming and going.
I wipe my hands on the towel hanging from my apron as I glance around the bar. A couple of regulars are seated at the high-tops, laughing over drinks. A group of friends crowd near the door, their conversation animated and loud. And then there's Joe, perched on his usual stool at the end of the bar, a half-empty glass in front of him. He's been here for a couple of hours now, just sipping away and making conversation with whoever happens to sit next to him. He's friendly, always the same, and I can't help but smile when I see him.
I'm about to head over and check on a new group that's just come in when Joe raises his hand slightly, catching my attention. I make my way over, brushing a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
"Need a refill, Joe?" I ask, leaning my forearms against the bar in front of him. He gives me a slow grin, the kind that says he's been here long enough to feel the drink settling in.
"Not yet, not yet," he replies, waving me off with a slow gesture. "Just wanted to chat with ya, Ella. Busy night, huh?"
I nod, glancing around the bar. "Yeah, it's picking up. But it's a good kind of busy."
Joe lets out a low chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Ain't that the truth. I like nights like these. Feels like everyone's just here to have a good time."
I smile, wiping down the bar with a clean rag as I listen. "Yeah, same. Keeps me on my toes though."
Joe takes a slow sip from his glass, eyeing me over the rim. "You're always on your toes, Ella. That's why you're good at this."
I laugh softly, shaking my head. "Well, thanks for the compliment, Joe."
He gives me a small nod before leaning in a bit closer, his voice dropping slightly. "So... how's Catherine?"
The question catches me a little off guard, but I shouldn't be surprised. Joe's one of the few people who knows about me and Catherine. He's never pried, never made it weird, just acknowledged it in his own way. Still, it's not something I talk about much.
I glance around, making sure no one's too close to overhear before I answer. "She's good," I say, a soft smile tugging at my lips. "We're really good."
I can't help but think about how much better things have been lately, especially since Mathew's been keeping his distance. It's like a weight's been lifted from both of us, and for the first time in a long while, we're just... us. No drama, no complications. Just us.
