I Object [gxg]

10. The Reception: Fugitive Edition

Wow. I didn't even make it to the reception this time. It must be some kind of record.

I tear out of my Uber and throw back the door to Carlow's so hard it bounces back and hits me in the face. Holding my nose, I make my way to the bar.

"Amy, help," I groan.

The bartender squints at me. "Have we met?"

I can't tell as she turns away, but I swear I see the corner of her mouth twitch like she's messing with me.

But why would she remember me? It might feel like yesterday to me, but for her it's been five years. So I just sit down on the stool in front of her and explain, "I came in here for a party years ago. You recommended the Ethics of Star Trek."

"Ah." She turns back around, placing a shot I didn't ask for on the bar in front of me. "Sorry, I guess I didn't recognize the new...fugitive wedding crasher...look?" She raises an eyebrow as if asking my opinion of her assessment.

"That's actually not entirely inaccurate," I comment, downing the shot and sighing with relief.

"So did you take the course?" she asks.

Right at that moment, I love her for changing the subject. "I did, actually," I admit, surprised to find, under all the confusion and shame, a memory I definitely never had before. "It was one of my favorites."

"I told you it was worth it." She grins like she's won some kind of prize. "And the guy you blew off that night...?"

I grimace. "It was his wedding."

"Ah."

I nod, wishing she would pour me another drink but not quite having the heart to beg for it.

"Is your invisible friend still single at least?"

"Hey," I object, looking at the stool beside me as if my old jacket and clutch are still sitting there, taking up space that isn't really taken. "I can see through your not-so-subtle attempts to get into my invisible friend's pants."

"Oh, so you can see through me like you can see through her."

"Ugh." I throw my head back in an overdramatic cringe. "No dad jokes. Please."

"Does she have a name?" Amy asks anyway.

"Stop flirting with her!" I laugh. "How do you know she's a girl, anyway?"

She shrugs. "Wishful thinking."

She gives her head a subtle jerk toward a customer at the other end of the bar, letting me know she'll come back after her job is done. I watch her go, wondering how much of that was actually a joke.

It's nothing new to me. I'm always wondering. Ever since the night in college that made me question myself, I've questioned others, too.

I guess I haven't really learned much at all. I'm still making the same assumptions about people in this town that I hate people making about me.

That train of thought only reminds me of every single attempt thus far to tell Nessa the truth, and I glance furtively over my shoulder. I'm sure people are searching for me. I imagine them in monocles, asking every passerby if they saw a crazy lady in a fancy dress and heels trying to run down the street. I probably made a memorable sight until I could catch an Uber.

Or what if the reception eventually moves next door into the bar? I've never actually made it far enough to know. The last thing I want is to see any of my friends tonight. Not sober, at least.

"I'm actually curious."

I look up as Amy returns.

"What's your name?" she asks. "I believe your horrible mistake interrupted us last time before I could ask."

I'm surprised she remembers that, seeing as it was five years ago.

"Alana. My friends call me Lana."

Amy starts emptying the dishwasher, wiping down the clean glasses and putting them back on the shelf. "What should I call you?"

"Lana." I don't even have to think about it. After all the drinks she's served me in last twenty-four hours—of my time—she's earned it.

She smiles. "You must have really liked that Star Trek class."

I nod absently. "Why are you still here?" I blurt out of the blue.

She laughs nervously. "Well, my shift's not over until midnight—"

"No, I mean here," I correct unhelpfully. "In this town."

She straightens, abandoning the dishes. "It's where I grew up," she says with a shrug.

"Yeah, but there's so much more to the world," I counter, leaning forward.

"What makes you think I haven't seen it?" she asks. "I always end up back here."

I open my mouth. That's a fair point. I look away, humbled once again by my own assumptions.

"Is this where you want to be?" I venture.

She shrugs. "I don't know, there are worse places."

"But that means there are better ones, too," I infer.

"Maybe. They'd have to have something pretty good to convince me."

I give her a halfhearted grin. "Sorry, I guess I'm projecting. I've been having flashbacks ever since my plane landed."

"Of?"

Her bluntness makes me pause. Flashbacks are kind of a personal thing, aren't they? What if I don't want to talk about it with her? What if it was actual trauma?

"That's going to cost you a drink," I bargain. There's something about her that makes me want to open up—a desire I've never experienced in this town.

I'm a bit disappointed when she doesn't pick up the orange bottle, but a deal is a deal. When she hands the drink over, I take a deep breath.

"It wasn't any one thing," I start slowly. "It was more of just...feeling like an outsider watching everything. Feeling like I shouldn't say things, even though no one actually stops you from saying them. It's so tempting here to just fall in line and be normal."

Her mischievous grin is back. "I've never been tempted to be normal."

I'm silent. Maybe she'd think differently if she was a time-traveling wedding crasher.

I look up as chatter from outside drifts through the windows. A few people in suits and dresses walk toward the building next door, and I remember the reception.

"I'm sorry," I cut the moment in a sudden panic. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'd really like to be as drunk as possible, as soon as possible."

"Gotcha."

"Like, we're talking blackout," I add.

She gives me a thumbs up and grabs the orange bottle.

I sag with relief.

* * *

Double updates again today! Scroll on for the next chapter :)

And as always, thanks for sticking with me this far! <3