Fix You: Bash and Olivia by Christine Bell

Chapter One
    Olivia
     
    "What's your poison?"
    I stared up at the row of liquor bottles glittering like jewels on the oak shelf, and squinted to get them back into focus when my vision went a little wonky. Decisions, decisions. The guy behind the bar awaiting my drink order seemed a little harried, but not too harried to give my modest cleavage a long look.
    I crossed my arms over my chest and cleared my throat before shouting over the din of voices, "I'll take a Long Island iced tea." It was my third one, and probably I should’ve switched to light beer, but screw it. I was having a rough day and the sooner I could forget about it, the better.
    The bartender nodded but kept his eyes glued to my boobs. Not good. Maybe Andy had been right and my shirt was too low-cut. Before anxiety took hold, someone tugged a handful of my curls from behind, derailing my thoughts.
    "What's up, bitch?"
    I peered over my shoulder to see Echo Reynolds standing there looking classy and gorgeous as ever. Her neckline was at least an inch lower than mine, but somehow on her long, lean frame, it looked classic and a little sexy without looking cheap.
    "Nothing. Getting a Long Island. Want one?"
    It was “Two Dollar You Call It” night at Shorty's bar and that meant half of Crestville College were there to get their drink on. With everything on the menu marked down to a bargain two bucks, it was a weekly tradition that brought out an eclectic mix of people. Something about cheap alcohol seemed to cross all social boundaries. The have and have-nots alike came to take advantage of the cheap liquor, and the few realllly rich haves who were too good to come for the cheap liquor still came to take advantage of the girls taking advantage of the cheap liquor. It was pandemonium pretty much every week, and with tonight being the night before spring break, it was even crazier than usual.
    Spring break.
    My stomach pitched as I thought about how I should handle that whole mess now.
    "Get me a rum and diet," Echo said to the bartender as he passed. She ran a hand through her pin-straight fall of black hair as she waited, eyeing the crowd and making no attempt to disguise the curl of her lip. "God, it's like these people didn't know they were going out in public or something. That girl is wearing Uggs with shorts. It's fucking March, for God's sake. Not that it would be okay in June either, but Jesus Christ, that’s going too far."
    The bartender came back with both our drinks and I gave him a five and told him to keep the change. As one of the lucky ones who, up until yesterday, didn't have to face the thought of spending my college years living off ramen noodles and Cup-a-Soup, I couldn’t help but tip the guy in spite of his wandering eye. There would be plenty of kids in line behind me who wouldn't, and even with my financial circumstances on the verge of a major, catastrophic change, years of habit wouldn’t allow me to stiff him in good conscience.
    "Where's Andy and the guys?" Echo called back to me as she shouldered a path through the crowd toward the less packed back room.
    "They're playing pool, I think." I took a sip of the tart, oversweet drink as we crossed the floor and slowed when the room dipped. Jeez, had it been this hot when we first walked in? Fashion disaster or not, I was starting to envy the chick in the shorts. I slowed to run the back on my hand over my damp forehead. Buzzed and disoriented, I must have closed my eyes for a second, because one minute I was walking along just fine and the next I found myself pinwheeling wildly as someone whirled around and bumped me, sending me flying backward.
    "Shit!" I squeezed my eyes closed, bracing for the impact of soft ass hitting hard floor, when a strong pair of arms closed around my waist and steadied me.
    "Are you okay?" a low, gritty male voice asked.
    I blinked twice and tried to catch my breath. Was I? I took stock, noting that my arm was soaked and sticky, and my Long Island iced tea