Lips, Lace, and Lies

Connie

Connie swallowed down another scotch. Mary had left to go to the bathroom to throw up a few minutes ago, so Connie was left on her own. She looked around the bar at the two people sitting on the stools, late night drinking their sorrows away. Connie swore when she was a senior to never sink to the level of sipping down beer after beer, but after her terrible night with Mark, she couldn't help but crave a numbing antidote to ease the pain.

The bar was dimly lit, giving Connie a headache as she tried to squint at her surroundings.

Her vision blurry, Connie stared at a boy a few stools away from her. He sat there alone, his hair messy and his eyes dark. He wore a flannel shirt and tattered jeans. He definitely looked like a college student, oddly familiar it seemed.

The bartender poured him another drink after he finished his last one. "On me, Bailey."

Bailey. Something was recognizable about it, but Connie couldn't put her finger on it.

"Thanks, Hal." He sipped his drink and burped.

Since Mary still wasn't back, she decided to take a risk and talk to him. She took a deep breath, and opened her mouth. "Hey there."

Bailey didn't seem to hear her, so Connie said it again, louder this time. "Hey there."

This time, Bailey heard her. He turned his head toward her eyes, his drink in hand.

When he saw Connie, he dropped his glass, liquor spilling everywhere. His mouth fell open, eyes wide.

He quietly muttered, "Connie?"

Connie, taken aback, put her hand on her chest. "Do I know you?"

Bailey noticed that he dropped his drink, and he got off his stool. He called back to the bartender, asking for towels. Connie knelt down and grabbed a towel from Bailey. "Sorry. I guess I've had too much."

Connie grinned a bit. "You're not alone. I had a rough night." Connie shook her head. "Why am I telling you this?"

"It's okay." Bailey looked up from the floor, where he was focussed on wiping up the spill. Connie then got a good look at his face in that moment. His shining blue ocean eyes stared back at Connie's hazel ones. Bailey was a beautiful boy. In fact, his messy blonde hair and perfectly defined face was creepily familiar. Connie searched her mind for a blonde, blue-eyed Bailey boy, but she couldn't think of anyone with his face.

Bailey finished cleaning the floor, and he stood up. He offered Connie a hand back up, but she hesitated to take it. For all she knew, he could be a random guy sitting in a bar picking up girls. One touch of the hand meant you were on board with sex. Mary had taught her that detail.

But Bailey's face was friendly. He smiled a cute smile, his hand still outstretched after a few awkward moments of no movement. Connie knew that this kid had to be a bit decent, so she took his hand. He pulled her up easily, like she weighed 10 pounds. It took a moment to actually regain her footing after he lifted her off her feet, but Connie looked back up at Bailey.

A few seconds was all she needed to finally remember him. She then gasped in a large breath of air. "Oh my god! Bailey! That's right! You were that kid who-" Connie stopped mid-sentence. She looked away from Bailey's eyes, afraid of drowning in them.

Bailey noticed her sad look. He only returned her with forgiveness. "Hey, don't worry about the past. It can be changed."

Connie sighed. "I'm sorry. About everything. I—I'm not dating Nik anymore. He's out of my life."

Bailey stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. "I know. Nik—uh—told me."

"Oh. Are you guys friends again?"