Staying Grounded [BXB]

Killjoy

SEBASTIAN:

"Oh, crap! Bas just walked in!"

I've trailed Brianna barely three steps through the double doors into the Red Bull Inn when those words, spoken in a voice I hear way too much of to ever mistake, pulls me up short. My gaze whips across the bar room. There's little enough going on here, this early Saturday evening, that it isn't difficult to pinpoint the location of the startled shout.

But, in place of who I expected, it's Derek that I see.

Holding court at a small table to the right of the empty stage, ever the king of his surroundings, the Desperate For Aces drummer lifts his tattooed hand in a lazy wave as he catches my eye. The two girls sat to either side of him are staring at me, and I recognise them both. The cute blond I know to be the drummer's cousin, Lyndsay, and the other is Ashleigh's irrepressible partner-in-crime, Steph. Between them, on the table, I count four drinks.

I narrow suspicious eyes on the trio until Lyndsay drops her head. And then, an impatient tug on my hand snaps my attention away.

"They're over there," Brianna half-whispers close to my ear, like she's afraid for our safety should we be noticed, and a stab of her finger redirects me to the games machines along the back wall where the two friends of hers who we're here to meet are standing. "Come on. Sooner we get out of this dive, the happier I'll be."

My girlfriend is not a good fit for this scene, and there's no denying that. Her spirit craves the fresh buzz of the open outdoors as much as mine does. She gets antsy, being enclosed amongst strangers. But it's a little hard to sympathise with her discomfort right now when it's entirely her fault our evening has taken such a turn. I'd thought the plan was to hang out at the stables, as we most often do, until she insisted I change my clothes into something more presentable. And, honestly, there's plenty else I'd rather be getting done on the farm over celebrating the birthday of some guy I hardly know.

So when I wheedle my hand free of hers and step away, I don't especially feel too bad about it. "I'll be two minutes."

"Sebastian!"

Before she can compose herself to argue, I'm crossing the room. "Go join your friends, Bree. This won't take long."

Derek straightens from his slouch as I approach. He's looking even more colourful than the last time I saw him — several months ago; fresh ink added to the winged skull across his collarbone. 

"Wondered if you were going to come and say hello."

"Still bribing minors with drinks for company, I see, Derek."

"Ah, and you're still totally nailing those pleasantries," he counters, a grin I fully don't trust lighting his face.

And there, unsurprisingly, peeking above the back of his chair, I spot the top of a pastel-haired head. "Ash, is there a reason why you're hiding from me?"

Steph sniggers. "Oh, damn!"

Even called out, Ashleigh holds her ground on me for a solid thirty seconds or so before caving, rising to show herself. "I'm only drinking coke."

"Good for you," I frown at her. "But I fail to see how that answers my question."

"So, you approve of me being here?"

Hell no. But, "When have I ever said anything about anything you've chosen to do?"

"You don't need to. It's all in your face."

"My face?"

"Yeah. All over it."

I frown at her some more as she flutters a hand at me, scrunching up her nose. Derek guffaws and Steph is quick to join in. Irritation tenses my shoulders.

The only one showing any restraint on her amusement is Lyndsay, her freckles highlighted by her soft blush. "We were just—"

"We were just," Steph drowns her out, "brainstorming a way of revenge that won't get us arrested."

"S'cuse me?"

"You're excused," Derek quips. "Or you could join us? You may have some fresh ideas to present to the table."

That doesn't even warrant him a glance. "Ash?"

Her eye-roll strikes me as exceedingly unnecessary. "Notch it down, Bas, please? Like, all the way down," she says, and if I had the slightest clue what the hell she's on about, I'd perhaps consider it. Instead, I hold my tongue and my stare until she continues. "It's just, some stuff has happened that you don't know and wouldn't care about. But, seriously, I'm only here because I'm a good and supportive friend, okay?"

"And it's appreciated," Lyndsay smiles across at her, although I notice she's looking ever more uneasy with the situation.

"Oh. Kay. Revenge plots. Super."

Steph pulls out the empty chair between us and gives its seat a pat. "Rest your pegs, sweet-cheeks," she coaxes. "I'll fill you in."

Another glance is shared between Ashleigh and Lyndsay, implying far less enthusiasm for my invitation, and I shake my head. Whatever this latest teen drama of theirs is — whichever way Derek's involved himself in it — there's a substantial likelihood that it's in my best interest to remain ignorant.

Damnit if I'm not a niggling bit curious, though. "This something to do with a certain entitled drunkard?"

"What?" Ashleigh's quick to respond. "No." And she appears indignant enough that I believe her. "Why would you think it has anything to do with Craig?"

The assumption doesn't seem so crazy to my mind. But, at the quizzical arch of Steph's eyebrow, I only shrug, hating that I can feel my frown deepen.

"Time's up looks like." Derek leans forward, his dark eyes sliding past me. "Shame." He raises his pint as if in a toast. "Your fair lady is summoning you."

Despite myself, I turn to track his gaze. Brianna's stalking her way over, her arms crossed tight over her breasts. Her two friends are already by the doors, waiting. From here, we're getting a bus into Exeter and joining up with others for an evening of Open Mic entertainment. She suddenly decided we should go after weeks of adamant refusal, claiming the change might be fun for us; I'm speculating my role will be her excuse to leave early when it's not.

"Whatever." I level Derek with one final look before shifting my gaze back to Ashleigh. "Forget I asked."