Page 21 of Only After We Met
“There we go,” Kate said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, looking content. “It’s about time you take your life back, isn’t it, Ginger?”
“I think so.” I sighed.
I hadn’t tried yet. For three months, I’d taken refuge in my studies, Rhys’s emails, and the library, where I looked for books as if they were drugs, because any distraction was welcome. Plus Dean had been going out, having fun, and enjoying himself the whole time. That didn’t bother me; it was more the feeling that I was left behind. The whole time we’d been together, I had focused on him and him alone; he had been the axis my world spun around, and without him, the ground was crumbling beneath my feet. Maybe that was what was hardest: losing all the things Dean held together probably meant more than losing him. But now I was finding myself…
“Let’s go grab a drink,” I said.
“Sure. Look, that dude over there has a keg of beer.” We walked over to the group around him. “Hey, you don’t happen to have two extra cups?”
He lifted his brows and his friends laughed.
“Yeah, in exchange for your names. And a joke.”
“A joke?” Kate frowned.
“Which of you is up for it?” he asked.
I could barely talk with all those strangers staring at me, but then I forgot the whole thing and stopped worrying about if I looked stupid or if I was falling victim to some new prank popular among college students.
“So there’s two grains of sand that are walking through thedesert. And one says to the other, ‘Hey, you know what? I think they’re following us…’”
It was silent as a grave. Then the guy with the beer started cracking up, covering his stomach with his hand, eyes half-closed. That reminded me of Rhys. The gesture. The wrinkles around his eyelids. He resembled him a bit, tall and blond, but this guy was muscly, with a broad back.
“Jesus, that’s terrible! What’s your name?”
“Ginger. Where’s my beer?”
He smiled at me again and served two more beers while one of his friends chatted up Kate, asking what year we were in. I grabbed the plastic cup and walked off to look around. Everyone seemed to be having fun, and I liked being a part of it. I took a deep breath. Then I took a few sips and watched a group of girls dancing and fooling around in the middle of the living room. They didn’t seem to care what anyone thought of them. And I envied them. And I wanted to join in. And…
“You want to dance? Come on!” Kate tugged at me.
I don’t know how, but we ended up with those girls, and they accepted us without even knowing our names. I started laughing when I saw the faces Kate was making. And I just let myself go. I danced, I sang, I shouted, I got excited, I chanted along with that group of strangers when I heard the first notes of “The Time of My Life.”
“Will you take a picture of us?” Kate asked a couple walking by. She handed them her phone, and we mugged for the camera. “Thanks.”
“We look amazing!” I said when she showed it to me.
“It’s great. You should send it to Rhys.”
I hesitated. We hadn’t sent each other any photos yet. We hadn’t even exchanged numbers. I guess we had gotten used to our routine, doing things our way, and neither of us wanted to ruin it.
But that night I felt happy. I felt like myself.
“Why not?” I shrugged.
When Kate sent me the photo, I gave it one last look, then attached it to an email to him. No subject line, no text. Just an image.
Someone bumped my shoulder, and I almost dropped my phone. He raised his hands as if to say sorry, but then he saw me and smiled.
“Ginger! The girl with the bad jokes…”
“The beer guy.” I put my phone in the back pocket of my black pants. “You still never told me your name. You’ve got one up on me.”
“True.” He reached out to shake my hand. “James Brooks.”
“You the host?”
“I am indeed.” He smiled.