Kir Royales for breakfast and I can see what the Devil is up from to a mile away.
Through my Tuesday drunken googles, mind you.
I can't drink on Tuesdays, I guess but I can brunch any day and he found a free moment that wasn't taken up by Lochlan, Ben or PJ, who is drugging my food as I found out when I was slurring after one drink.
Caleb noted this as well and quickly made me a second, because nothing says love like incapacity, right?
Then he shoves me out the door and across the driveway in the rain because he's all about the Big Gestures, this week. The Look, I didn't hurt her (much) and the Hey, if she can still walk then clearly we're still friends kinds of declarations that only Caleb can get away with, the ones I don't think I ever actually recover from, in spite of his insistence in their harmlessness.
Though I think he would be much happier if I actually couldn't walk and then I would have to stay instead of stretching out to spread myself so thin I have broken through in places and it's getting hard to hide the patched areas again.
On my way back I stop in at the loft to see August. Unrequited needs or something something we'll make sure we put our friendship first and I find him right where drunken-Bridget wants him. Flat on his back in bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling, the bed swaying gently against the huge ropes that suspend it from the vaulted ceiling, a look on his face that says Look, I won't hurt her (much) and I don't know if we can still be friends, actually. He's a walking contradiction and the first thing he says when I come in is So?
So...Happy Tuesday!
Have you been drinking, Bridget?
I purse my fingers together to mean only a little and trip over his boots, landing on the floor. It's funny though. Everyone loves a vaguely drunk Bridget and he jumps up and comes over, picking me right up off the floor, standing me on my feet, vaguely amused at how hard I went down (because if I can still walk then clearly we're still friends), making sure I am steady before he lets go.
Or making sure he is steady before he lets go, because even drunk Bridget saw that before he could cover it up.
We need to talk about Sam.
Sam is none of anyone's business.
Sam is everyone's business! August shouts it at me and I flinch hard enough to shock my system into tears again. Was having such a good drunk too and now we're going down this road. Christ.
Don't cry, Bridget. I'm trying to protect you.
Then don't let Caleb anywhere near me. If you could all start with that, that would be great.
We've tried but you won't let us.
Oh. Of course. I'm dumber than I thought.
He's your outlet for missing Cole the same way I'm a stand-in for Jake. That's all. Dangerous maybe, but not unexpected. Completely understandable.
So I get a pass? I waver slightly and he puts his arms out to steady me again.
Of course, he says, not realizing I just talked him into a trap.
Okay. Thank you. I have to go.
Where are you going?
There's free drinks down at the bottom of the hill and it's Tuesday, didn't you hear?
