.

Sitting on my stool, I stare blankly at the drink in front of me….

Liz! Liiiiiiiiiiiiz!! Tell Cathy what you told the HR woman when she called in last Wednesday!

I know that the music is not any louder than usual, but it feels deafening, tonight. I elude the conversation and try to concentrate for a moment. The lights are too bright, I can feel the migraine setting in slowly but surely.

It is a shame, really. Because it is no wonder, why Jenny and I started arranging these Happy Hours, a couple of months back. We both enjoy the long evenings of mingling with friends and colleagues in this underestimated bar in the suburbs. And most of these nights, we almost closed the place.

Not tonight – I think to myself.

My temples are pulsing, and I take a long sip hoping that the alcohol will make the pain recede. Not a bright idea, I’ll give you that, but at this point, I’m willing to do anything not to become the party pooper.

I innocently gaze your way. You’re so damn hot! I wish your looks were enough to kill the pain, and just as I think that, you turn my way as if you’d heard my thoughts.

Just at that moment, Paul walks back to the table with two racks of pool balls in hands.

The tables are booked, who’s in for a game or ten?

Everybody left around the table gets really hyped. All of a sudden, you pick up your coat and declare to the tipsy croud…

I have stuff to do early tomorrow morning… I think I have to go, but you guys enjoy the end of your evening.

I chug what’s left of my drink to give myself the courage, and make my way around the table. Standing next to you, I don’t know how I finally find the guts to ask you.

Jenny’s having fun, and she’s my lift… Me, not so much right now. Would you mind dropping me at the subway station on your way home?

You plant your gaze straight into my soul, mind-reading me.

Sure thing, grab your stuff, it is on my path anyway.

I get my purse and my coat, and after excusing myself, we leave the place. Together.

In the parking lot, you lead me to your truck. You help me into the passenger seat, and then take place in the vehicule too. You start the engine, I can’t help smiling. Somehow, the pain is not so bad sitting next to you.

After just a couple of blocks , you ask me….

It’s not like you to leave the party early like that, what’s wrong?

I tell you that I’m not sick, just not feeling well. I mention my long-known headache problems and you suddenly show unexpected concern.

Holy shit! I’m not dropping you at the subway… Let me take you home instead!

No doesn’t seem to be a possible answer to your offer. So, I just sit back, and enjoy the ride.

.

To be continued…