Adam's List(65)

I turn to Adam, as delighted as a school girl. “I do believe we’ve crashed a pub crawl!”

His eyes are missing their usual spark when he smiles back. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll take whatever’s light on tap! I’m going to visit the bathroom! Meet you on the dance floor!” I kiss him and find my way to the restrooms at the back of the bar, behind where a dozen people dance to the three guitarists and a drummer playing an old David Bowie tune. After waiting for my turn to clean up in the girls’ room, I weasel in next to a few girls around my age to dance along, feeling as if the weight of the world has just been lifted off my shoulders.

I had sex with Adam! And it was beyond amazing!

Instead of screaming happily, I throw my hands up in the air and shimmy around, giggling, allowing the middle aged woman at my side to press her fleshy butt into my bony hip. I can’t remember the last time I danced, or even the last time I felt this incredible. I left all my inhibitions and worries back in Wisconsin with my over-doting parents and ghosts of my dead boyfriend’s memories.

By the time the third song is over, I’ve made half a dozen dancing friends of all different ages, and I’m covered in sweat. The band starts into a slow song, breaking up our newly formed dance party.

I take cover in the corner to call Kelly, catching her on the second ring.

“You better be in an alley somewhere bleeding,” she tells me. “You didn’t call when you got to your hotel like you promised! I was ready to send search and rescue out for you guys!”

“Would you shut up a minute? Kel, he finally gave in! And it was so incredibly hot!”

“Hold on. You mean you slept with him? When? Where are you?”

“We’re in New York! We skipped the other stops. I wanted to hurry things up and get here because he was acting weird about us, getting too serious and shit!”

“Too serious?” I hear her moving around like she’s sitting up in bed. “But I thought you wanted things to happen with him.”

I scan the crowd for any sign that Adam could be listening in, but I can’t even see past the crowd to the bar in front. “I do. Or I mean, I did. I have a bad feeling about this secret of his. I don’t want to get serious if there’s some reason we can’t be together.”

“So you had sex with him? Jewels, are you taking your meds?”

“Hey, I gotta go! I’ll call you later!” I end the call before she can launch into another lecture on how important it is to keep up my mental health.

With still no sign of Adam, I make my way back to the bar. He’s not there either, so I send a quick text. He doesn’t answer. I decide to wait where I left him, thinking he must’ve snuck back to the bathroom.

“You here alone?” someone asks. I turn to face a stout man with a thick mustache and goatee. His glossy eyes perk up. “Hey, you’re on our bus tour!”

I nod reluctantly, hoping he doesn’t recognize me as the one “getting it on” in the back. “Have you seen the guy I was with?”

“I was out for a smoke a little bit ago and he was standing by the bus.”

“Thanks!” I say, touching his shoulder before springing to the door.

The cluster of smokers outside slowly part for me. I find Adam leaning against the bus, his head tipped back to watch the stars.

What the hell is he doing out here alone?

Telling myself not to make a big deal of it, I go to him, calling his name. His head bows down and he stares at me, throwing on one of the most forced smiles I’ve ever witnessed. I’m sure there’s some kind of pain or maybe even fear behind it that demands to be heard, but he’s too stubborn to let surface. Again I’m torn between wanting to know the truth and continuing on as a blissfully ignorant participant.

“Hey.” He drags me to him and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I just had to catch my breath. That place is way too crowded.”

“So everything’s okay?” I ask, delivering a bite to my question, knowing he won’t answer, or even address the fact that I’m irritated.

“It’s been a long day. We still need to find a place to stay.”

I rest my hands on his chest. “But it’s early, and the band is crazy good. Plus, we’re like a dozen blocks from the truck, and these cute little wedges aren’t meant for actual use. If we don’t take the bus, we’ll have to grab a taxi. And I don’t think messing around in front of a taxi driver will be nearly as fun.”

He collects my fingers in his hands, looking irritated. “We can always go out another night. If it’s always like this even on the weekdays, we’ll have lots of time. I’m sure there will be more bands.” His eyes drift to the traffic whizzing by. “Maybe we can even sign up for one of these pub crawls and actually pay our way on.”