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I lean over the bar and whisper to him, “Silly Ben. Haven’t you figured out yet that I know exactly what you need?”
BEN
Holly’s flirtatious whisper has me discreetly adjusting myself. I can’t tell if she knows the effect she has on me.
At first glance, Holly is an enticing combination of sweet and cute. Then, she takes a string of words that should be innocent and makes them sound like a promise of naughty things to come. Pair that with the fact that she’s basically saving my life, and I’m having a hard time with not lusting after her.
Some part of my brain shouts at me that pursuing my donor is wrong. It’s a very minor part, and the pounding music from the next room easily drowns it out.
I watch as Holly creates what she claims to be exactly what I need. I hope she’s right because I doubt I could decline anything she went through the effort to create.
First, she brings out a stone bowl and fills it with some green leaves, which she grinds up with another stone implement. Then, in one of those drink shakers, she pours in water from a newly opened bottle and then squeezes in a bit of lime. Holly shakes the container with a few flourishes.
“It’s more for the effect.” Her smile is cheeky, and I don’t know how every guy in this bar isn’t lined up behind me, clamoring for her attention.
Holly scrapes the mashed leaves into the same type of glass she served Jasper’s whiskey in. Then, taking a shot glass, she fills it to the brim with her water-lime mixture, pours the liquid over the leaves, and repeats the action once more. Apparently, this is the end product because she adds a sliver of lime to the rim and pushes the concoction across the bar to me.
“For you, we have wonderfully refreshing lime water with muddled mint leaves. Exactly three ounces.” She leans in close again, no longer wearing her showman bartender persona. Instead, she has serious eyes and an encouraging smile. “If you’ve already reached your daily fluid intake, I won’t be offended if you don’t drink it. But it’s always nice to at least be holding a drink when you’re hanging at a bar with your friends.”
Before I can say anything, another customer appears, waving for Holly’s attention. Back is her friendly grin, and Jasper and I are left alone for the moment. Luckily, he’s people-watching, so no one notices me coming to grips with the strange combination of emotions mixing in my head.
Again, my illness was a factor in something as simple as whether I could even order a drink. That was enough to shame me. Then, Holly figured out exactly what I needed. She knew, likely from her brother, that keeping my body fluids balanced was imperative while on dialysis, so she gave me a small, precisely measured drink. And not just a glass of water. No, she found flavors and elements that were acceptable for my strict diet. The kindness of this gesture, delivered right when I felt like crawling into a hole, floors me.
Just to give my mind something else to focus on, I reach for the glass and take a sip.
It’s delicious. The taste is fresh and clean, cooling my mouth on its way down. I want to chug the whole thing and ask for another. Instead, I savor the treat.
“You’ve got a good one there.” Jasper takes a break from scanning the room, observing me instead.
He’s a sharp guy; he reads people well. No doubt, he knows exactly how gone I am on Holly. We glance down the bar to where she’s popping the caps off a couple of beer bottles.
“Problem is that I don’t actually have her.” I fidget in my seat, trying to shrug off my infatuation. “Besides, I just want us to be friends. She shouldn’t have to give her kidney to a complete stranger. She should know me.”
Jasper snorts. “Whatever you say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just interested to see if you can actually be around her for months and not try anything. It’d be impressive, is all.” Jasper appears so smug.
To prove I don’t have to hover near Holly, I get up to search for Sammy. Just to check on the guy. A couple steps past the arched doorway, and I spot him. He’s hard to miss.
Sammy owns the dance floor. I had no idea he had any sort of rhythm, but he moves with the beat, lost in his own world. I can’t even tell if he’s dancing with anyone. Watching my normally rigid roommate let loose and actually enjoy himself has me grinning.
Jasper was right. Sammy’s been wearing himself into the ground. And it’s not even like he needs to. The guy is insanely intelligent. Whenever someone points this out, he always shrugs off the compliment, claiming he has the typical Asian parents who drive him to overachieve. I’ve met the Ches, and they are definitely hard customers to please. But, even without their pushing, I don’t think Sammy would have any trouble maintaining his 4.0. He doesn’t seem to agree most days, which is why nights like tonight are so important.
I’m still pondering the change in him when Sammy opens his eyes and finds me through the crowd. Wearing a huge grin, he weaves his way over to me.
“This place is great! And this drink is delicious!” The glass he holds up is already empty. Realizing this, he frowns and pulls me with him as he beelines for the bar. “Time for round two!”
I laugh at his eagerness and indulge in another sip of my own Holly creation.
HOLLY
I don’t know how Sammy is still standing. After his fourth tequila sunrise, I cut him off. There is no part of me interested in cleaning his colorful puke off my bar.
Midnight is approaching, and the guys have been here for hours. Talking to them in between serving drinks makes work more enjoyable than usual. Ben and Jasper stay near the bar, conversing with each other and occasionally throwing out jokes, while their roommate acts like a kid on holiday out on the dance floor.
It’s also funny to watch Ben slowly realize what type of establishment he’s in. It takes three different guys offering to buy him a drink before understanding flashes on his face. This is an important moment. I want to know how he’ll react to the knowledge that I work in a gay bar.
