The Cusp of 30 (Working Title)

Chapter 8: "Should Have Gotten A Chaser."

"Um, yeah," I said, using the back of my hand to wipe buffalo sauce from my chin. "That's just an old friend from high school." I held out my index finger in JT's direction, letting him know to give me a minute.

"Go over and say hi," said Zeke. "I'll save you some wings, don't worry."

"Ha," I said, rolling my eyes. My love for food was something Zeke often mocked, but purely in a fun way where it never actually hurt my feelings. In fact, he normally encouraged my eating, proven by his order of thirty five wings. I stood up from my bar stool. "I'll be right back."

He didn't respond.

I made my way over to JT, who was a lot more excited to see me than I was to be seeing him. He held open his arms for a full embrace, but I countered with a last-second, one-arm side hug. "Hey," I said.

He didn't quite get my hint, made obvious by the placing of his hand on my lower back while he said, "This is the one who knocked out that mechanic bitch the other day on Grope Dr."

I typically didn't like when men referred to women as bitch, and normally I would have said something, but I was more concerned with whether or not Zeke was watching JT's hand resting so comfortably above my ass. I pretended to start coughing so that I could cover my mouth and turn my head behind me, and that's when I saw that Zeke wasn't watching me at all. Trish had arrived, and so he had gotten up to talk to her. She looked much prettier than she typically did at work, like maybe she was wearing extensions, and she had the tiniest piece of fabric around her waist that cut off just two centimeters below her vagina—like we would all, guaranteed, see it if she had to bend over for anything at all. I didn't know whether or not I was relieved by this distraction.

I turned my head back around. "Sorry about that," I said. "Yeah, I guess that's me."

"Good for you," said some bald guy. "That bitch is bad news."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

JT answered for him, "We're pretty sure she's stolen at least eight catalytic converters since she's moved to town. We're just waiting for good enough video footage to prove it. Someone will eventually get her."

If anyone was capable of such a crime, it was definitely Antonella. I made a mental note to ask her about it and warn her to stop while she was ahead. I hoped I would remember.

"Want to step outside for a quick smoke?" JT asked.

"Oh, no," I said, "I haven't smoked since I started running." I looked back behind me and pointed toward Zeke and Trish. "I'm actually hanging out with some friends from work, so I should probably get back to them."

He tilted his head to the side. "Why are you trying to run away from me so quickly?" he said.

He looked sad, like, actually sad, and I guess I realized that I could have spent at least a little more time talking to an old friend who didn't lock me up in a jail cell after I got arrested for assaulting someone.

"No," I said, grabbing his forearm and squeezing. "I'm not running away from you."

He slightly shook his head from side to side.

"If you want, you can come over and I'll introduce you to my work buddies?" I said.

JT rubbed his chin, then glanced over at his boys. "That's okay," he said. "As long as you promise to let me take you out to a nice dinner sometime soon."

I couldn't even remember the last man who offered to take me out to dinner and not "for a drink" or "for coffee," since those were the things you suggested when you weren't sure whether or not you really wanted to commit two full hours to hang out with someone. But JT wanted to spend time with me in a setting that wasn't a group-work thing, and it had been a while since someone had.