Crescendo

Chapter 6

I tucked a loose piece of mousy brown hair behind my heavily pierced ear. The stubborn strands refused to stay in the rushed ponytail I tied them in before driving downtown.

Instead of going to the bathroom and attempting to fix it, I took a generous sip of the virgin margarita resting on the table. The tang didn't have the same impact without the tequila, but I enjoyed it regardless.

The crowded restaurant buzzed with half-sober delinquents and mortified over-thirties who would leave before the live music even started.

I shifted on the barstool, attempting to find a comfortable position, but nothing eased the lower back pain radiating down my spine.

"I'll take an Angel's Tit," Mia handed the beat-up menu back to the waiter standing beside our table, "Thanks."

I rolled my eyes at her drink of choice and snagged a chip from the center of our table. As soon as the waitress rushed away with the order, Mia turned her attention back to me.

"As I was saying," soft blue curls hung delicately in front of her chest, "Professor Kane sounds like an asshole but Daniel Kane?" The following whistle prompted a few of the unsavory men in the room to look in our direction.

"It's not that I mind doing the work," I ignored her recurring suggestions that Daniel could be more than a teacher, "it's the way he talks to me."

"Like he's in charge?"

"Yeah."

"He kinda is though, right?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, dreaming about a burger and not Daniel in charge of anything other than my grades.

The hole-in-the-wall restaurant kept me sane throughout high school and still provided a great hiding place when I wanted to escape.

Mia often joined me on my stealthy burger runs.

I sighed, "Maybe, but that shouldn't mean he gets to stay perched on his high horse all the time. So what if he's famous?"

Mia raised an eyebrow at me with humor glinting in her dark eyes.

"I am not famous," I wagged a finger around as if it would convince her, "I wrote two books and they got a little popular."

Mia mocked me, using her own finger. "Nobody likes people who downplay their success, Blair." A crooked grin stretched across her freckle-adorned face.

I rolled my eyes again; it was one of my best defenses against Mia's blunt statements.

"Where's Jay?" I asked in hopes of changing the subject. My second-best defense.

Mia took a greedy first sip from her Angel Tit. "It's so much better here when you can drink."

I raised an eyebrow and Mia pursed her lips, "Legally."

My fake ID, a relic of the past, sat on my dresser collecting dust.

"He's on his way," Mia answered before we could recount our rebellious history.

Acoustic power ballads filled the main room and nostalgia washed over me.

A time existed when my stomach would be tied into knots while we waited for Jay to join us at our table, which long since had more wood showing than paint.

Then again, there were plenty of times when he never showed.

Like when he met her.

I drank my virgin margarita as if it could blur the sharp edges of the memories.