Road Workin' (Part 5)

“So, what’s up?” Tracy asked, but she wasn’t really concerned of awkwardness. She scanned the dance floor, and spotted Trisha dancing crazy with some other guy. He was muscular and very good looking, and they were too close together. Maybe she should—do nothing. Trisha was always getting herself into trouble and it seemed like she would’ve ended up pregnant—had Tracy not been there to save her. But tonight, her intention was to relax. Trisha was not a baby, and maturity might stop her. If she was mature, that is.

“Nothing much.” Mark said casually. He drank a bit more, and Tracy noticed how he sighed heavily, as if he was about to tell her something big. “Actually, a lot.” he fixed his position and Tracy opened her eyes, wanting to show full attention and concentration. She was not the only one feeling pretty confident, tonight.

“My girlfriend Stephanie just dumped me. It was nothing nasty, she was all honest and calm. But still, I loved her.” Mark said closing his eyes and grieving in silence. “You did.” Tracy said nodding, perhaps too much. And, what did she knew? She knew she’d had whisky, and that was sort of it. But Mark was honest. He must’ve really had feelings for her. Suddenly, Tracy felt all jealous of this girl, Susana-whatever-her-name was. Without the need of another whisky, she realized that her job was to make Mark forget about someone else.

“But you know, perhaps if you don’t deserve her she didn’t deserve you.” Tracy said, fully tempted to place her hand on Mark’s knee. “Yeah, maybe.” Mark said, and Tracy could still notice that there was doubt in his voice. Convince. Convince.

“Maybe it was all for the better. You know, you’ll be able to meet more girls, and who knows, maybe you’ll like them more.” Them, me. For a sec, as she had done many times in her past, Tracy wondered whether she was pretty. Everytime she looked at herself in the mirror, she concluded that she wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t beautiful either. Her body was sort of chubby and not perfect, and her hair was just there and her eyes were plain. But she had a good feeling about Mark, whisky, and whatever Mark was drinking.

“Yeah. Just that, I’m not really social. I tried so hard to get to Steph. I really did, and it’s like I’m starting all over again.” he said quietly, drinking a bit more. Steph. Tracy didn’t know whether she hated the nickname, or if she hated the name—the person— as a whole. Next thing she knew she called the guy and asked for two whisky’s.

“Here, it’s on me. I know I am totally sounding like an alcoholic, but wherever you’re in sorrow, whisky is the best.” she said and gave him the cup. He smiled thanks, and drank some of it, and yet his reaction was still the name. Tracy had to calm herself before sighing out loud.

“You know, I’ve heard people here are very good at shots. Wanna try?” And yet she said herself to be clean and non-alcoholic. But tonight, it seemed, was an exception. She had a broken heart to get to, and whisky wasn’t that bad. She really hadn’t heard anybody say anything about people here, and she doubted whether a specific group of people was better than another, at shots.

“You’re on.” he smiled a bit and shook his cup in the air. And she was about to prove it.