WREN

I know I’m smiling way too much.

So happy and carefree.

My dry humor and detached snarky-bartender attitude are gone as I ask the pretty, dirty-blonde, “What can I get for you, Bethany?”

She’s a regular on game days. I saw her go home with Tony Sanchez the day I met Eric, and Eleanor confided in me that she was toying with another player last season. We’re not judging, we secretly admire her. If she has a thing for extremely large men who are the best in their field, party down, I say.

She slyly leans in and whispers, “I guess he gets the thousand bucks after all, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

People are pressed in around her, deep in conversation and not paying attention. Everything feels normal except I have no idea what she’s talking about, and the glint in her eyes is confusing me. We’re not friends, but it feels like she thinks we are.

“Not that he needs the money,” she smiles, “but you know how guys are. Dare them and they’ll do anything. Especially if you add money and everyone watching, right?”

“I’m sorry, you lost me. What are you talking about?”

“The bet. Tony bet Eric he couldn’t fuck you.”

My heart evaporates. “What…?”

Leaning closer she goes on to say, “I would have told you earlier but I thought there was no way he’d succeed after Tony said your legs were closed all through college. You guys went to school together, didn’t you?”

Numb I cut a stunned look to where Eric is laughing with Mott and Tony. He glances to me, his smirk set on his face as he gives me a nod. Tony leans in and says something in his ear and Eric’s lips curve into a grin, looking away from me as they all toast.

The cleavage-heavy messenger hammers the nail to my coffin one last time. “But did he really have to announce it on live television? I mean, the wink…come on. That was in really bad taste to soil your reputation like that, especially after you’d made it so clear he was the slut and not you. Remember that night, you guys here on the bar, him on that table? He’s such a sneaky bastard, right? Disgusting! So I just had to tell you. Us girls have to look out for each other, right?”

I dart out from behind the bar and push my way to the back exit because this is definitely an emergency. In the alley I bend over, grab my hair, the back of my calf, and hurl. It’s not pretty and there are no witnesses. I’m too stunned to cry so as soon as everything is out of my stomach I gasp for air, walking in jagged circles amidst painted over graffiti and industrial trash cans, recycling bins, the garbage left behind when it’s used up.

Like me.

My head swings up to the stars and I hold my chest. God how I ache.

But I’m on the clock.

What am I going to do?

It’s too busy to leave Mike by himself.

I wish I could beg off and use the itching as an excuse.

But I can’t do that to my friend.

I don’t fuck people over.

Yanking the now heavier door open I push past people waiting for the bathroom, and make my way into the crowd.

Eric appears. “Hey, I was looking for you. Where’d you go?”

I want to disappear.

Or hit him.

Or punch him and then vanish.

But he’s the hero here.

I have to be nice.

I’ve no choice.

To lash out at him today would make me the villain and further ostracize me. All of this rushes through my mind as I stare at the man I’d begun to really care about. I thought he was my hero. But he punched Peter with an ulterior motive. To get me to have sex with him. And it worked. Right there in the woods where he gave me the news.

I was right.

I am so dumb.

Such an idiot.

Always picking bad guys.

“Oh, uh,” I stammer, shoving a hand in my hair. “I wasn’t feeling well. Had to puke. Sorry about my breath.” I’m not sorry at all.

He shrugs that he doesn’t care, reaching for my stomach, “You eat something bad?”

I recoil, pushing my back into strangers. Eric’s eyebrows shoot up and I mutter, “Sorry, it’s just really queasy. Don’t touch…it. I have to get back to work.”

“Have Mike cover for you.”

I wish I could.

“It’s too busy, Eric, but thank you. I’ll be fine. Excuse me.” I step around him and he moves to let me by. Glancing over my shoulder I see he’s following me. “I’ll talk to you in a bit, okay?”

He stops walking, “Sure, yeah. Drink some soda water. Might help settle the nausea.”

Escaping behind the bar I throw myself into my work. That girl is gone.

In a daze, slinging drinks on auto-pilot I finish my shift. Forced smiles. Quick hands. Throbbing chest.

What was I thinking?

That something real had happened between us?

My initial instincts told me what he was.

Why didn’t I listen?

“Hey Wren,” I hear him say, as I hand a credit card to a customer.

Steeling myself I meet his eyes. “Yeah?”

“You need a ride home?”

“Um, I just want to go to bed, still not feeling well.” I touch my stomach.

He nods once, “I could drive your car and make sure you get back, have one of the guys follow so he can drive me to mine after. Let me help.”

Rolling my eyes I mutter under my breath, “Oh my God, just give it a rest,” and meet his confused look. He heard me but you know what, who cares? We’re almost closed. The nightmare is nearly over. “I just want to go home, Eric, okay?”

He throws up his hands, and has the gall to appear hurt. “Okay! Sorry.”

How long are you going to keep this act up, Eric?

I turn away and grab a waving credit card, hear the girl say, “We left a tab open but I want to use this card instead. Name is Turner.”

“Got it,” I mutter, begging the clock to move faster, just this one night.

Please just make it all end.

“Wren?”

My heart slams, and then I realize it’s Mike calling me. I glance over and see the bar nearly empty. It’s like I checked out of my body for the last hour. “Yeah?”

“Eric told me you weren’t feeling well. Why don’t you go home? I’ll clean up. The big stuff is for the janitors anyway. I hire larger crews for home games, don’t worry about it.”

Covering my face with my hands I struggle against tears, breathing deeply to plug the faucet before it breaks and I make a fool of myself. Untying my ponytail and redoing it way too tightly I blink around the mess and ask, “You sure?”

“Yeah, you’re pale!” He comes over, places his hand on my forehead. “You need to go to a hospital?

“No, I just need my bed. I’m okay. Long night. Poison Ivy is killing me.” I grab my keys and phone.

With concern he touches my back as I walk by him. “Sure, get some rest. I’ll wrap the tips up for you.”

Muttering thanks I go out the back, terrified I’ll run into swarming Falcons out front.

When I get to my car I see them all in the distance around his Jeep. Bethany is hanging on Tony’s arm, laughing at something they’re saying. Eric spots me and waves, starts to come over.

I hold up my hand in the universal signal for STOP. His footsteps slow and he frowns, raking his hair back.

Dipping into my car I lock the door and turn the ignition fast, before I start to cry in front of the man who has no heart.