The Blackout Girl ✔️

chapter sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

The unit wound up at a dive just a few miles from the Field Office. They were seated next to the bar under a few dim lights and a glowing neon sign that read we're open. As Dre had explained, it was their usual spot. The host who showed them to the table recognized everyone except Nolan by name. He felt flustered having to introduce himself. It shouldn't have felt like a big deal, but it was.

"Okay, but do you really think the waitress would give you her number?" Darren laughed. "Dre, she hasn't looked at you once."

"But when she does, I'll be ready," Dre said, pushing up his sleeves.

Kaytee snorted and took a sip of her drink. "Mmhmm. You can say that all you want. You should leave her alone before she spits something in our basket of chips."

Dre popped a tortilla chip in his mouth. "Tastes fine to me."

Nolan tried not to chuckle as Dre gave the waitress a long, lingering look. She was perched across the room, completely oblivious to the ogling. Nolan wasn't bold enough to flirt like that, so brazenly. He was unbelievably awkward in comparison.

If he was braver, maybe he'd have a shot at someone else. Maybe.

Kaytee assessed the empty shot glasses. "You think we're ready for another round?"

"You guys are already a few slammers in. If you keep up this pace, you'll all be drunk within the hour," Nolan pointed out. "Judging by the average rate the body metabolizes alcohol, of course."

"I need more tequila if I'm getting anymore fun facts from Encyclopedia Brown," Dre joked. "This one's on me."

He was off to grab a couple more drinks, just like that.

Kaytee met Nolan's eyes. "Come on, Foster, could you at least try to look like you're having fun?"

He forced himself to lift the corners of his mouth. "Better?"

"Now you just look constipated," Darren teased.

Nolan pushed a hand through his hair. "I'm not good at this stuff."

She lifted her glass of half-full rum and coke and waved it under his nose. "Start here, maybe?"

He took her cup reluctantly and grimaced as the sour taste crossed his tongue. "That was as disgusting as I thought it would be."

"I think it's great," Kaytee said defensively. "Who doesn't love a good mixer?"

"Foster, apparently," Dre said, laying the next round of slammers onto the table. "Bottom's up, gang."

Kaytee, Dre, and Darren clinked their glasses together, the sound ringing through the bar. With heads tipped back, they downed the shots and cheered.

Nolan was right. An hour later, Kaytee was swaying her way to the bathroom, her face flushed, her hair messy, and a perpetual stream of giggles flooding out of her mouth. Darren had fallen out of his chair once, and Dre had made it his mission to chat up a girl in a blue dress who was sitting a few feet away.

Nolan was the only sober one in the group, a stark contrast to the rest of his friends.

Kaytee fell unceremoniously beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Nolan, what are we going to do with you?"

"Let me call you a cab?" he suggested.

"Karaoke hasn't started yet," she protested.

"Karaoke?" he echoed.

"Karaoke," she said. "What should I sing, Darren?"

"Hmm," Darren said. "Maybe some Taylor Swift."