the Islander.
Eva kissed his ear and neck while the others danced. She still had her hand attached to his thigh and Rick was beginning to get irritated, but didn’t rebuff her advances. Instead, he tried to appear coy. When the others returned from the dance floor, he jumped up, away from her, and suggested that they move on to the next club. Everyone agreed, so back out to the Paralia they went.
Rick was glad to be up and moving, but more relieved to have her hands off him. A little dizzy from the tequila, and the three rum and cokes he’d already had, the night air felt good, but it was short lived. The next club was only a quick walk down the road. Once they took their seats, Rick repeated the routine, ordering them each a drink and a shot. Before Eva could decide if she was ready for another, Rick picked up her glass and downed it.
Randy looked at him and asked, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m having fun, baby.”
This time, Eva went with the others to dance, leaving Rick alone. He sat, smoking one cigarette after another, and downing several more drinks. As his head swam, he wondered if he’d stayed at the Islander, maybe Shelby would have come and he could have danced with her again, a slow dance even. He craved the healing effect she had on him. Years on the road took their toll. Burned out, exhausted, and feeling so much older than his age, somehow, she was reversing the damage he sustained playing the role of a rock star.
He ordered two more shots.
The loud music made his head hurt, and the flashing strobe lights pushed him away from the here-and-now. Eva came back to check on him, and it took him a minute to remember who she was. As he watched, her figure appeared to split into multiples, all rapidly changing places.
“Are you okay, Ricky?” she asked.
He stared for a minute, the blinking lights making it hard to focus, but finally smiled at her. “I’m good, you can dance,” he heard himself slur as he motioned her away. She left, but returned moments later with Devon.
“Is it time to move on?” Rick tried to sit up. The room began to spin.
Devon shook his head. “Come on Ricky, let’s get you home.”
Chapter Seven
As Rick showered the next morning, the incessant pounding in his head painfully reminded him of the previous night’s antics. He tried to push it from his mind, ashamed of how he behaved toward Eva. She certainly didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Even as he chased other thoughts, a nagging in the back of his mind wouldn’t go away – something about last night.
At the café beside their hotel, he found Devon alone at a table, enjoying a cup of coffee. Rick pulled out a chair.
“You don’t look too bad, considering the mess you were last night.”
“Don’t remind me,” he said, but the nagging feeling continued to prod him as he sat down. “Where are they?” he asked, nodding toward the two empty chairs at the table.
“I haven’t seen them, so I’m guessing they got lucky.”
“I’m sorry. You know, you could have gone back,” Rick said, knowing he was the reason Devon sat here instead of lying in bed with Gretchen. The waiter came, and Rick asked for coffee.
“Well, by the time I got you into bed, and walked Shelby home,” – Boom! That was it – “it was pretty late. I don’t think she was very impressed with you last night, by the way.”
Rick’s memory of the previous night came slowly, as did the nausea. Only, he couldn’t remember all of it. They were walking along, or staggering in Rick’s case, and Devon heard something coming from an alley they passed. Some kind of ruckus – Shelby with a boy or something, and Devon chased him maybe? He racked his brain. What the hell happened?
“On our way to the hotel last night, we found Shelby…” Devon prompted.
“Yeah, yeah, and she was screwing around with a guy?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it that. This guy had her pinned up against a wall, kinda looked like he
Eva kissed his ear and neck while the others danced. She still had her hand attached to his thigh and Rick was beginning to get irritated, but didn’t rebuff her advances. Instead, he tried to appear coy. When the others returned from the dance floor, he jumped up, away from her, and suggested that they move on to the next club. Everyone agreed, so back out to the Paralia they went.
Rick was glad to be up and moving, but more relieved to have her hands off him. A little dizzy from the tequila, and the three rum and cokes he’d already had, the night air felt good, but it was short lived. The next club was only a quick walk down the road. Once they took their seats, Rick repeated the routine, ordering them each a drink and a shot. Before Eva could decide if she was ready for another, Rick picked up her glass and downed it.
Randy looked at him and asked, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m having fun, baby.”
This time, Eva went with the others to dance, leaving Rick alone. He sat, smoking one cigarette after another, and downing several more drinks. As his head swam, he wondered if he’d stayed at the Islander, maybe Shelby would have come and he could have danced with her again, a slow dance even. He craved the healing effect she had on him. Years on the road took their toll. Burned out, exhausted, and feeling so much older than his age, somehow, she was reversing the damage he sustained playing the role of a rock star.
He ordered two more shots.
The loud music made his head hurt, and the flashing strobe lights pushed him away from the here-and-now. Eva came back to check on him, and it took him a minute to remember who she was. As he watched, her figure appeared to split into multiples, all rapidly changing places.
“Are you okay, Ricky?” she asked.
He stared for a minute, the blinking lights making it hard to focus, but finally smiled at her. “I’m good, you can dance,” he heard himself slur as he motioned her away. She left, but returned moments later with Devon.
“Is it time to move on?” Rick tried to sit up. The room began to spin.
Devon shook his head. “Come on Ricky, let’s get you home.”
Chapter Seven
As Rick showered the next morning, the incessant pounding in his head painfully reminded him of the previous night’s antics. He tried to push it from his mind, ashamed of how he behaved toward Eva. She certainly didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. Even as he chased other thoughts, a nagging in the back of his mind wouldn’t go away – something about last night.
At the café beside their hotel, he found Devon alone at a table, enjoying a cup of coffee. Rick pulled out a chair.
“You don’t look too bad, considering the mess you were last night.”
“Don’t remind me,” he said, but the nagging feeling continued to prod him as he sat down. “Where are they?” he asked, nodding toward the two empty chairs at the table.
“I haven’t seen them, so I’m guessing they got lucky.”
“I’m sorry. You know, you could have gone back,” Rick said, knowing he was the reason Devon sat here instead of lying in bed with Gretchen. The waiter came, and Rick asked for coffee.
“Well, by the time I got you into bed, and walked Shelby home,” – Boom! That was it – “it was pretty late. I don’t think she was very impressed with you last night, by the way.”
Rick’s memory of the previous night came slowly, as did the nausea. Only, he couldn’t remember all of it. They were walking along, or staggering in Rick’s case, and Devon heard something coming from an alley they passed. Some kind of ruckus – Shelby with a boy or something, and Devon chased him maybe? He racked his brain. What the hell happened?
“On our way to the hotel last night, we found Shelby…” Devon prompted.
“Yeah, yeah, and she was screwing around with a guy?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it that. This guy had her pinned up against a wall, kinda looked like he
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