already forgotten the fake name he gave me.
“You live around here?” Anthony probed. He leaned against the bar next to an empty bar stool rather than sit. Cristina, who I assumed was his girlfriend, continued to use him as her makeshift crutch.
“No, we’re from—”
“—Indiana,” Elias jumped in.
I narrowed my eyes at him secretly from the side.
He softened his baby-blues, as if to say,
Sorry, babe
.
Instant forgiveness. He was in the right, though, because I had been about to say Georgia, just as I had been a second away from telling them our real names.
I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to this covert lifestyle of lies and highways and shitty motel rooms. But Elias was with me, and that made it all OK.
“How long will you be in town for?” Anthony asked.
“A day or two,” Elias said. “Then we’ll be heading back home.”
As Anthony helped Cristina onto the bar stool, his hands pushed underneath the fabric of her short flowered skirt. I noticed he wore hemp bracelets like mine, five or six thick ones wrapped around his left wrist. I wore them on both. Probably for different reasons.
Cristina called for the bartender, and he came over.
“Are you staying close by?” Anthony asked. He put up his hand and added, “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Why are you asking anyway?” Elias was wary of this guy, but just like me, it was only the paranoia.
Anthony smiled and paid for Cristina’s drink. “I own a beach house not far from here. We’re always trolling the clubs lookin’ to find people to invite. You’re welcome to come.”
Cristina almost fell off the bar stool and her drink thumped over onto its side. She fumbled the bottle back into an upright position. Clearly she didn’t need any more to drink.
“I think you’ve had enough,” Anthony said, reading my mind.
She whined when he took the bottle from her.
“Not in the mood to clean up after her tonight,” Anthony said, still with a big smile plastered on his face.
“Hey!” Cristina shot back, feigning offense and reaching out for the bottle. “Don’t be an ass!” She laughed.
Anthony ignored her and turned back to us. “So, are you up for it?”
“I don’t think so,” Elias said. “But thanks.”
“All right, but if you change your mind, I’ll be around here for another hour or so.”
“Thanks, man,” Elias said with a nod.
Anthony helped Cristina down from the bar stool and walked her on her wobbly legs through a small crowd, and they disappeared amid the throng of people.
“Maybe we should’ve gone,” I said over the music. “The guy owns a beach house. We could probably crash there for a few nights. He seems pretty cool.”
Elias held up two fingers and the bartender came over. He ordered a beer and one for me. “I don’t know, maybe,” he said.
I could tell he thought it wasn’t such a bad idea, considering we had begun thinking about staying put somewhere for a while to save money.
We drank a couple more beers and danced some more before we decided to head back to our motel. The more buzzed Elias got, the more he wanted to take me somewhere and strip off my clothes. But he stopped before he got so buzzed that he wouldn’t be able to drive us back.
We gave up the idea of joining Anthony and Cristina and never went looking for them. But we found them anyway, by accident, lingering outside the nightclub in the parking lot.
“Hello again! John and Julia, right?” Anthony said, walking toward us.
Oh,
that
was the fake name I couldn’t remember.
We met him halfway. Cristina was sitting down on the blacktop with her back and head pressed against the side of a car tire. I could see straight up her skirt; she was too drunk to notice she was on display to anyone who happened to walk by. Both of her knees were drawn up against her chest.
“Hey, man,” Elias said with a half smile. “We thought you had already left.”
“Yeah, well, that was our intention,” Anthony said. “But
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