One More Year

With a Newspaper in hand, I pause for a moment outside the reception staring at the passerbyers, the old faces. “Well, this is going to be one helluva night,” I say as I start walking up the marble stairway myself. Looking upward I see her.

  “Amber!” she exclaimed down at me, quickly running down the steps to join me in a hug, one I don’t really return. Not that I don’t want to, I’m just not that kind of affectionate person. 

“Thanks for coming to my wedding!”

“Anything for my best friend.” I respond with the best smile I can plaster on. She loosens her grip from me and takes a step back to study my outfit. Its green and blue lace was the best in my closet. I'm told my pale skin compliments it very well. 

“I love your outfit.” she says, while I give her a twirl as best as I can. “You’re going to have to enter the Ladies and Gents Competition.”

“Ladies and Gents?” I repeat.

“Yes!” She exclaimes, “The Ladies and Gents Competition, I decidedly invited everyone from high school since I was tasked with our five year reunion and to make things interesting there's a competition to see who has the best outfits.” She squeals as she takes my hand continuing our walk in. “It’s kinda like a prom king and queen thing.” I roll my eyes in response. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” 

“Fine.” I exhaust. How could I tell her no? 

She was my best friend after all and it was her wedding, even with the array of decorations making it seem more like an under budget playhouse. The balloon tied arches of an entrance way, the disco ball, strobe lights, and even the sparkles clear across the floor. It was more of a school dance than anything, then again that probably was her goal. Knocking out two birds with one stone. She had a habit of doing that. It honestly bugged me a little, but it was nothing major. Nothing that could ruin things, or so I thought. Taking me to the admissions table they took my photo to display me as a nominee. Tessa smiled, pleased with it all. 

“I can’t wait to see you win.” She encourages as she finally walks away leaving me stranded. I move to the bar, setting down my newspaper making it a placemat. An easy choice. An easy decision.

Gesturing to the bartender I order, “One tequila sunrise please.” He nods in response and gets to work. Waiting, I lean back and face the crowd I walked past that's located in the center of the room. He then approaches. Trey, the quarterback, the famed star athlete turned to ruin with age. 

“Hey Amber, how’ve you been?”

“Sorry, I’m not interested.” I bluntly respond.

He takes a step back, clearly offended, “You sure I can’t even buy you a drink?”

“Not interested.” I state again. 

“Bitch.” He mutters, leaving to try and swoon another poor unfortunate woman. 

“One tequila sunrise.” I hear from behind me.

Turning around I say, “Thanks.” The bartender smiles and lingers for a second before walking to another patron. I, however, stare at him longer. He seems familiar. A bit too familiar as if I knew him from somewhere. He didn’t match any of the highs chool faces though. He didn’t match any of the loners, the jocks, outcasts or the artsy kids I ran through either. He couldn't be someone in Tessa’s social life though, because despite being inseparable in high school her wedding invitation is the first time I've heard from her in years. That's just how things are. We went to two separate colleges. She went to beauty school as I went for programming. Two entirely different worlds. 

Lifting my fingers to the bartender, I order again, "Another tequila sunrise please." He smiles again, chuckling to himself. "And your name if possible." I say. He walks over attentively and starts my second drink.

"What? You can't recognize me with my beard and all?" He smirks, I roll my eyes.

"A little." I respond as I study him stronger now that he's up close. He's a fit tan man, his muscles showing at his shirt's short sleeves. He looks like one of those ruggedly handsome men. Ya know, someone who seems like they aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. 

"Well, I'll give you a hint. You know me." He states as if it's new information. 

"I know that." I respond. 

"Hmmm, well how about this. If you win the Ladies and Gents Competition,  I'll tell you my name. He sets down my tequila sunrise creating a watermark on the paper I brought with me. Alis Volat Propriis, it’s titled, meaning She Flies With Her Own Wings. It's funny that the place I'm going to move to is Oregon. Clear across on the other side of the United States. No family, no friends to accompany me. To be around, a fresh start. I guess there’ll be no issue leaving another behind.

“Alright.” I sigh, “Challenge accepted.” I move my empty glass his way and down the newly placed one as best as I can. Wincing at the taste of it all burning my throat.

He lets out a, "Whoa." as a reaction. I tip my glass at him and turn toward the crowd again. Heading in I say my greets and pleasantries, mention my outfit and move onto the next person ever so winning their support along the way. 

Tessa then spots me, the fact that I've finally started socializing but somethings off. She starts storming up to me with her heels clacking, brows folded up, eyes like daggers. She looks angry, mad at me. 

“What did you say to him?” she accuses, when she gets to me, as I stare back blatantly having no idea what she's talking about. 

“To who?” I reply.

“My fiance, the man I am to be marrying today?” I sit silently as she's waving her hands all around. “Not interested, you're not interested?” She places her hands on her hips. “Well I’m not interested in having you here at my wedding anymore!”

“You’re marrying Trey?”

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I invited you here after all these years and I even nominated you in my competition.”

“Your competition?”

“Yeah, it’s my wedding. You think people would actually not vote for me? I only suggested you enter out of courtesy and now here you are pawning yourself on everyone.” 

I take a step back, everyone staring, looking. My breath caught dryly in my throat. I don’t know what to say, but I feel a sense of deja vu. A sense that the distance between us may have not been just because of how things are. 

“This is why I’m moving.” I say, finally moving my way forward, getting her to regress. But I just walk past her, out of there, away from her, from everything. When I get outside I see the sky is brimming, and that the sunrise is approaching, my feet hurt. So I pause halfway down the steps, taking off my overused flats. I’m surprised that they even have souls at this rate, I laugh at my thought, at Tessa. Rubbing my feet I notice footsteps behind me. It’s the bartender, broad shoulders and all. He’s holding my newspaper.

“So, Oregon is it?” he says, stretching the article out for me to take back.

"I like hiking." I respond. 

"Hiking?" His brows furrow, "Didn't take you for the nature type."

"And what type did you take me for?"

He sits smiling beside me on the steps, "I don't know, but when we were little, I had the largest crush on you." looking away from me, he tries hiding his face. 

"You had a crush on me?" I say getting him to look back at me, in the eyes. "Who are you anyway?" 

He hesitates, "Well, since you haven't won the competition yet." He pauses, causing me intrigue, "You used to call me little Mitch." My jaw immediately drops. 

"Mitchell Rockwell, you've grown up." I nudge him with my shoulder. 

"Not entirely." he responds. "I still can't drink what I sell"

"You're a bartender who's not even old enough to drink what he serves, now that's a joke." 

He smirks, lifting up a single finger, "One more year." He says, staring at me. His phrase lingering in my head, Tessa’s little brother.