“Remind me to call you if I ever have something to celebrate.” I smiled. “What kind of internship?”
“I know it sounds weird, but I think talking about it is bad luck. Let’s just say, if I land this internship, I may even be declaring a major soon.” She grinned.
Fallon committing to a major was almost like her committing to one guy. I’d never expected either to happen in my lifetime. “That’s a really big deal. Congratulations. And I’m sure you will do amazing at the interview.” Or at least, I hoped she would. She seemed legitimately excited about it.
“Yeah.” She gnawed on her thumbnail. “It will go great.”
“If I can help in any way, I’d be happy to.”
She glanced at me, the faint crease between her brows fading as her expression relaxed. “Thanks.” And something about the way she said it made it the sincerest the thing I’d ever heard coming from her. Like a tiny glimpse beyond the girl who spoke sarcasm as a second language. But then, with a seemingly forced laugh, she said, “And if all else fails, I can sleep my way to the top.” And just like that, the window slammed shut.
Chapter Six
Fallon was a good three inches shorter than me, yet somehow I’d let her talk me into wearing her dress. Thankfully it was black, unlike the flaming red one she wore. At least my outfit wouldn’t draw attention. Well, as long as I didn’t bend over…or fall. Oh, please, dear God, don’t let me fall. The wedge shoes I’d worn laced up at my ankles, binding me to the inevitable cruelty that was gravity.
“Stop tugging. You aren’t going to make it any longer, you know.”
Forcing my hands to my sides, I glanced around. “It’s packed.”
“Yeah,” Fallon answered with a smile. “Now, where to start.” She rubbed her hands together.
Mason hadn’t come with us. He’d claimed plans with the guys, but I think becoming Fallon’s prey freaked him out. I didn’t blame him. Her straightforwardness could be intimidating.
Fallon flirted heavily with the bartender, who didn’t spare a second glance at her questionable ID. The girl in the picture, who was an older cousin, looked nothing like her.
“Drink this.” She shoved a shot glass filled with a light-colored liquid into my hand.
I pushed it back in her direction. “No thanks.”
“C’mon. It will loosen you up. Have some fun.” She opened my hand, placed the shot inside and wrapped my fingers around the glass. “Let loose for once.”
Drinking led to things I’d rather not experience, like drunkenness and hangovers, but Fallon had invited me out. I didn’t want to come across as being uptight, because I wasn’t really. I just had had my fair share of bad experiences with alcohol, courtesy of my mom. One shot probably wouldn’t hurt though.
I held it up, letting the light filter through. “What is it?”
“Kamikaze shot.”
I stared at the pale-colored liquid and frowned. Nothing named Kamikaze could end well.
“Bottoms up.” Fallon pressed the small glass to my lips and tilted it with her finger.
My face puckered as I swallowed. The sweet shot had a bite at the end. “Okay, no more. I don’t drink. One shot is enough to knock me on my ass.” I hoped taking that shot would appease her for now.
“Nah. I think you need one more.”
Before I could protest she’d spun to the bartender and asked for a “special shot for her friend.”
He smiled, tapped the bar and said, “I think I’ve got something.” He tossed a bottle in the air, caught it, then filled a metal shaker. He holstered it back into the rack on the shelf and whipped out two new bottles. He tipped them in unison, raising and lowering them, while I did my best not to roll my eyes at his performance.
Fallon, on the other hand, ate it up. With her elbows against the bar, she leaned forward, her cleavage spilling out of her dress, and oohed and ahhed.
The bartender capped the shaker, waved it in the air, then filled three shot glasses and winked at me.
Fallon handed me one, raised her own and clinked it in cheers with the bartender, who had lifted the third. Then they both turned to me. Dammit. This was my last shot. For real.
I choked it down. “How much do I owe you?” I asked Fallon.
The bartender answered. “You’re good. Your drinks have been paid for.”
“By who?” I asked.
“Yeah, by who?” Fallon peered around, a huge grin plastered to her face.
“Guy at the end of the bar said he’d pay for anything you ordered.”
“Huh, looks like you have an admirer, Fallon.”