A Falling Sky

Chapter 14

When I walk into the bar a few hours later, I can already tell that it is going to be a slow night. Shit, this means that I’ll be a waitress: running people’s orders to them, having to wade through a small sea of strangers and awkwardly rub up against them saying “S’cuse me. Sorry. Oh my gosh, sorry! Excuse me.”

It’s not gonna be a fun night.

When I get there, Harry is already behind the bar restocking alcohol. Huh, he didn’t mention he had work as well. I watch him as he reaches up and bends down with alcohol in hand. His lean muscles contracting under his tattooed skin when he meticulously replaces each bottle. I thought I hated the anchor tattoo on his wrist, at first, but I have grown to admire it. His tattoos on his arms seem so random and disjointed but I just think that each individual one must mean something to him. I wish I knew.

This thought drives me over to him—the thought that I don’t have to be so mean all of the time; the thought that I want to be more than friendly with him so that he will tell me about his tattoos; the thought that we can be real, actual friends without sex or attraction or anything like that to taint it.

“Hey Harry, what’s up?”

“Not much, Skylah. Just ready for another exciting night of work.” he smiles and I will never get tired of his boyish dimples.

“What about you? What did I miss when I left the apartment?” he asks

“Not too much. Bradley slept for like five hours. Then Heath and I fell asleep shortly after beginning a movie. It was a pretty wild time, you missed out.”

“Damn. Did Heath shake the whole apartment complex with his snores this time?”

“Yep.”

“Aw man, I’m sad I missed it. It’s not like I don’t hear it every single god damn night.” He says sarcastically.

I laugh along but decide to not bring up how Harry doesn’t actually hear it ‘every single night.’ I look around for something to do but, as it was dead for most of the day, there is nothing to prepare for right now. I lift myself onto the counter to talk to Harry some more.

“So, I heard Tom’s letting you perform here soon. That’s exciting!”

“How did you know about that?” Harry seems guarded. He is trying to gauge whether I overheard their conversation earlier in which he claimed we weren’t friends. For some reason, I don’t want him to know that I was listening in. Let’s begin from a new slate, y’know?

“Bradley told me before I left.” I say and Harry eyes me briefly before giving a curt nod.

“Yea, they’re letting me perform once and then if people like me, I will get more gigs.”

“Well, I’m sure everyone will like you. You’re really talented.”

I realize now that I haven’t really heard him play since first meeting him. Whenever he would get out his guitar in the apartment, I would make an excuse to leave.