Day One

Drunk Like You

September 21 

Day One

"Come on, Remi." Stay lumbered into my bedroom, pulling the blankets from my bed. "Get up. You've been wallowing long enough." 

"Long enough?" I asked incredulously. "Long enough?" a little louder the second time. "I gave this man 3 years of my life." 

"And you wouldn't put out so he went and found someone who would. Woman up and move on. You admitted that you didn't love him." She walked across the room and pulled back the shades. "Now." She continued. "You can get out of that bed, get your ass dressed, and come to town to get a drink with me, or you can keep wallowing in your own self pity. Your choice." 

Nothing was ever as easy as Stacy thought it was, I was with Jacob for three years. The whole town expected us to get married, and be the perfect couple, 2.5 kids, white picket fence, the whole shebang. His father owns the auto parts store, mine owns the hardware store, his uncle owns the car wash and mine owns the plumbing and HVAC business, this was going to be a very beneficial marriage for the entire town. Discounts galore!

"Fine." I agreed before slinging my legs over the side of my bed.

"Good girl. Put these on." She threw a pile of clothes at me. "with your tall boots." 

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I contemplated leaping out of the moving car a few times on the way into town. If I had to hear one more time how much better off I was without Jacob I was going to hurl. 

"Why didn't you tell me we were just going to Bubba's?" I asked Stacy as we searched for a parking spot on the street. 

"Because I knew you wouldn't have come." 

"Damn right I wouldn't have come." 

We were sitting in her compact car bickering like an old married couple. 

"There's a great band playing tonight, I promise you'll have fun." She promised. 

"Stace, if you wanted to go to a grungy bar, I could have locked you in my brothers' basement." I quipped as I climbed out of the car and followed her into the bar.

We had gotten there early and the crowd was thin, it was almost too easy to find a seat at the bar. 

The inside was built to look like the inside of a barn. I tapped on the wall to see if it was even real wood. Surprisingly, it was. The bar was close to the front of the building, it looked like it was nice at one point, but now it was a scuffed and sticky mess. 

I looked to the stage at the back of the room. God, I hoped this band was worth it. 

"Here, Remington." Stacy thrust a Pabst in my direction, while not my beer of choice, I quickly accepted.

"I needed this." I may have just chugged that beer, but that was as close as I was going to get to saying 'Thanks for convincing me to leave the house.'

"You're welcome." She smiled, her expensive teeth dazzling.She really is beautiful. Her long blond hair fell well below her shoulder blades. Her eyes sparkled green. If I was a lesbian, Stacy would be my type. But, sadly I am not, so my type is tall, blonde, wannabe underwear models with god complexes. We all have our flaws.

I waved down the bartender and ordered another beer, Miller this time. I sat back on my stool, taking in the scene, or lack thereof, when the band started to set up. People were starting to file in. The screeching of the microphone grabbed my attention. 

There he was, the man who would be the architect of my destruction. He was trying, and almost failing at setting up the microphone. He was handsome, his black hair was cut short, and his face was a few days unshaven. His nose was angular, and when he looked at me his eyes sparkled, deep brown not unlike my own. Not my type.

I turned back to the bar and pretended to listen to whatever Stacy had been talking about, but all I could think about was the way he had looked at me. In a split second he had been successful at getting Jake off my mind, a feat Stacy couldn't accomplish in a month. I listened to the drums being set up in the background.

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A middle aged man climbed onto the stage. "Thanks for coming out tonight. We've got a real treat for y'all. Virginia's own U.S. Presidents" He spoke into the microphone. "This is their very first performance here at Bubba's. These boys are headed for great things." he scratched his hand through his gray hair and stepped off the stage. The band started to play behind him, an upbeat song about kissing girls and driving trucks, sure to be a hit on country radio. 

The dark haired singer, that I had so suddenly become infatuated with, sang like no one I had ever heard before. His voice was smooth as silk and rough with gravel. He was wearing a plain gray t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Never in my life had a t-shirt looked so sexy. He had that Je ne sais quoi  all musicians had. I despised it. And that horrible way he wore that baseball cap backwards? He pulled it off without even trying. 

"You want another beer?" I shouted over the music. 

"No, thanks." Stacy declined, "I'm driving, remember?" I turned toward the bar and stayed there. I wasn't going to become a groupie. I was not going to be that girl.