She tossed her strawberry hair, padding down the slick block in a short jean skirt and cowboy boots, her friend in blond corkscrew curls and diaphanous green, Colleen slid out in between cars, gauging the distance of headlights, artfully jaywalking so they never had to break stride. She pressed forward with biological urging, to the over crowded bar, on a work night.
The boys were in the bar in green t shirts and torn jeans, one of them was in a furry hat. Colleen wanted to put on the same, but knew she had to make an effort and could not ward off the reproachful frown wavering on platform heels that her friend would give if she was the only one dressed cutely. Colleen had only mentioned maybe dressing casually after a long day and was met with hysteria. The boys were at the bar, and even though we don't like the boys, the boys all have friends and they might be nice, with good jobs, and ready to have children soon. Colleen didn't dare mention what she was really thinking, that she wanted to skip the bar tonight and sit home in fuzzy socks, wash dishes, finish a book. Her friend wasn't wrong though, there weren't a lot of places to meet boys, and their friends.
Her friend was giggling over the name Jimmer Fridette, and the prospect of a celibate college basketball team. The boys were discussing, at length, their brackets, and X Box. Everything was occasionally punctuated by howls of approval, or raucous jeers at the TV screens they were all watching, while talking and not looking at each other. The sound of the bar was the angry racket of bee hives, a pleasant buzz stacked upon itself until it became an aggressive, directionless clatter. Colleen realized a friend of one of the boys was talking to her. He leaned his head in, closing to an affectionate distance, trying to dock his temple with hers. He smelled lightly sweet of brew yeast, it was the first time he had talked to her. Behind her Colleen could hear her friend flirting with a boy she had slept with, he interrupted her to point out cheerleaders on TV, and hoot. Her friend waited, then kept flirting.
"Colleen? I said you don't look like you want to be here." The boy waved his hand in front of her face, pulling her attention back.
"No, sorry. Not really." She bet he had the same haircut his mom had first given him, short and easy to get even. She wasn't sure what his name was..
"Lets get out of here then." His eyes were hopeful.
"I don't even know you."
"Cmon, we've been hanging out all night. I'm a nice guy, what else do you want?" She could tell he truly didn't know what else she could possibly want. He ran his hand through her hair and it snagged, Colleen thought of making cat's cradles when she was little.
The noise of the bar dampened as the door closed and she was left in the vacuum and orange light of the street, too late on a work night, heading for home.
The boys were in the bar in green t shirts and torn jeans, one of them was in a furry hat. Colleen wanted to put on the same, but knew she had to make an effort and could not ward off the reproachful frown wavering on platform heels that her friend would give if she was the only one dressed cutely. Colleen had only mentioned maybe dressing casually after a long day and was met with hysteria. The boys were at the bar, and even though we don't like the boys, the boys all have friends and they might be nice, with good jobs, and ready to have children soon. Colleen didn't dare mention what she was really thinking, that she wanted to skip the bar tonight and sit home in fuzzy socks, wash dishes, finish a book. Her friend wasn't wrong though, there weren't a lot of places to meet boys, and their friends.
Her friend was giggling over the name Jimmer Fridette, and the prospect of a celibate college basketball team. The boys were discussing, at length, their brackets, and X Box. Everything was occasionally punctuated by howls of approval, or raucous jeers at the TV screens they were all watching, while talking and not looking at each other. The sound of the bar was the angry racket of bee hives, a pleasant buzz stacked upon itself until it became an aggressive, directionless clatter. Colleen realized a friend of one of the boys was talking to her. He leaned his head in, closing to an affectionate distance, trying to dock his temple with hers. He smelled lightly sweet of brew yeast, it was the first time he had talked to her. Behind her Colleen could hear her friend flirting with a boy she had slept with, he interrupted her to point out cheerleaders on TV, and hoot. Her friend waited, then kept flirting.
"Colleen? I said you don't look like you want to be here." The boy waved his hand in front of her face, pulling her attention back.
"No, sorry. Not really." She bet he had the same haircut his mom had first given him, short and easy to get even. She wasn't sure what his name was..
"Lets get out of here then." His eyes were hopeful.
"I don't even know you."
"Cmon, we've been hanging out all night. I'm a nice guy, what else do you want?" She could tell he truly didn't know what else she could possibly want. He ran his hand through her hair and it snagged, Colleen thought of making cat's cradles when she was little.
The noise of the bar dampened as the door closed and she was left in the vacuum and orange light of the street, too late on a work night, heading for home.
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