Secrets

Secrets

I don’t say this often, but the date was off to a great start. After a particularly depressing dry spell of about two years, here I was, sitting across from Summer, a girl WAY out of my league. Her jeans were tight in all my favorite places, as was her white tank top. Her skin was light brown, light milk chocolate.

‘I think we should share secrets,’ she said about five minutes in to our date. We were at Tipsy’s, the only bar in town with a dart board, and a bewildering collection of board games. ‘You go first,’ she said’

I took a sip from my first pint, and glanced at her nearly empty double. Sailor Jerry’s, Amaretto and Orange Juice. Try it and you’ll probably love it… until you don’t. ‘Ok,’ I said slowly. ‘I like… smoking weed?’

She smiled at her, her beautiful eyes like a kaleidoscope of brown, starting to show the light glaze that accompanies drinking a double in five generous sips. Her lips looked so soft and… shiny. ‘Wow,’ she said with either nervousness or well-faked sincerity, ‘thanks for sharing.’ Her face turned sombre for a second, and she took a deep breath. ‘Ok, my turn.’ She looked away for a second, then deep in to my eyes; they couldn’t possibly be as deep as hers. ‘I used to be a stripper.’

Mic dropped. My eyes widened, but I unsuccessfully tried to hide it. ‘Cool,’ I said. Sometimes it’s good to keep things simple.

She blushed, looking away. ‘You think it’s stupid.’

My eyes widened again. ‘No way!’ I gushed. ‘You gotta do what you gotta do, no judgements.’

She glanced back towards me. ‘Really?’ I smiled for all I was worth and reached out with my hand, gently touching her fingertips. Wiping lustrous black hair from her eyes, she reached her hand forwards, so it was resting in mine. ‘I’m never going back to that life,’ she whispered. ‘It’s easy to laugh when you see some pimp in a movie trying to get their money, but it’s not funny when that shit’s happening for real!’ Her voice and composure cracked, just for a moment. 

While I did’t know what she’d been through, I could see in her eyes she wasn’t there any longer, any more than she held herself there.  ‘Every moment is a chance for a new beginning.’ I smiled, squeezing her fingers. ‘Just take some deep breaths,’ I said. ‘You’re not there now, and your breathing is the only thing you can always control.’

She nodded, taking a deep breath in. I couldn’t help but glance at a her ample chest while it expanded. My eyes widened, for a third time. ‘Wooow,’ I breathed, forcing my gaze back to her perfect oval face, her fathomless brown eyes.

She smiled and winked. ‘Maybe later,’ she whispered.

I winked back, tightening my grip; her hands are so soft, making me self=conscious mine are so sweaty. She doesn’t seem to mind. I glance around Tipsy’s, which seems filled with my friends, though they are all pretending to be there for other reasons than watching this fated night go down. I glance at our table as her fourth double arrives. I’m almost done my first pint. ‘Do uh… you wanna get out of here?’ I whisper. She nods emphatically, straw slurping as she drinks half her double. ‘Ok, I’ll settle up.’ 

I smile at the bartender, whose inexperience shows through the pint glass in his hand, 80% full of foam. ‘Shit,’ he mumbles as I approach.

‘Could I have the bill?’

He furrows his brow in concentration as he holds a fresh pint glass before him. ‘There’s no bill,’ he says as he starts his pull.’

My eyes widened, again. ‘What… really?’

‘Fuck!’ He says, as foam billows from the glass, over his hands and freshly-pressed vest. ‘Your friends paid for everything.’

I glanced around the packed bar, to see oh, a hundred pairs of eyes looking back at me. ‘Wow,’ I mutter. ‘Thanks. Take some deep breaths, hold the glass at a 45° angle.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘I used to be a bartender.’

Summer had composed herself, other than her slight sway, and looked amazing. How I got a beauty like this interested is beyond me.’ Rea…dy?’ She says with a slight slur.

I gestured for the door and reached for her hand. So soft. 

As I opened the door, a cheer burst out behind me, a hundred throats singing my praises. Maybe tomorrow it would be 101. 

The sun is still just above the horizon, and the street is empty. I palm a join from my pocket, arching an eyebrow as I hold it before me. 

‘Ooooh,’ she murmurs, ‘just the thing!’

I glance behind her, through the door to tipsy’s, and imagine the bated breath of the eyes still fixed upon me. Smiling as I spark up, I take a long pull, leaning down towards her shiny lips. As our lips touch, I finally understand what getting hit by lightning feels like. I exhale, slowly, as she leans in closer. She smells amazing, like cherries and vanilla, holding the smoke in her mouth and exhaling out her nose. I will always remember that moment, the moment I watched her eyes glaze over and realized maybe things had gone to far. ‘I want a cigarette,’ she muttered.

‘I didn’t know you smoked.’

‘I dont, but I want a fuckin cigarette.’

‘Ok well, let’s get you some cigarettes!’

‘Then we can go back to… your place.’

I smile, a bit less surely than before. ‘It’s about a ten minute walk,’ I saw, pleased to see she’s in sensible shoes at least. ‘Will that be ok?’

She nods, and I take her other hand. ‘More,’ she whispers.

I take a drag and lean in close. Our lips meet, her eyes drift closed, I start to relax. 

Her eyes shoot open. Uh-oh. I know that look. I glance around. There’s an empty clay pot under Tipsy’s railing- I push it towards her.

‘I’m gonna be… hrrrk.’ Noisily, messily, I saw what those four doubles looked like, post consumption. I hold her hair back as round 2 overtakes her, followed by a silence broken only by the slow trickle of liquid vomit oozing out the hole in the bottom of the pot.

‘So… still want that cigarette?