Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

It will take more than a few drinks to get me up on stage. Oliver ruined karaoke for me since the Katy Perry-donkey-in-labor comment. It was harsh, especially considering how much I love to sing. I’ll get over it … eventually.

“Flower?”

“Upstairs,” I call from the bathroom, contemplating wearing my hair up or down.

“Whoa, look at you! Hot date?”

I grin pulling out my hair clips, opting to wear it down. “Hardly. You’ll be so proud of me. I’m going out with some friends tonight for open mic night.”

Alex deflates. “You are?”

“Yep.” I apply some lip gloss and rub my lips together.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“What? You’ve been telling me for weeks to get my ass out of here and have some fun … to ‘let my hair down.’ Look…” I point to my hair “…hair down, and I’m going out.”

“Sean’s coming over and I’m making dinner, then we’re going to watch a movie. I was hoping you’d join us.”

Raising a brow, I smirk. “You were?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Hmm, karaoke with my new single friends or third-wheel dinner and a movie with my friend and her fiancé, which will no doubt end in you two making out in front of me through the whole movie? No offense, but I’m going out.”

“What can I do to make you stay?”

“What is your deal? Is there a bomb threat I don’t know about?”

“No.”

“Have you had a premonition about tonight?”

“Not exactly.” She squints and purses her lips.

“Then I’m going out and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

I grab my black heels.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing that.”

I look down at my fitted, red strapless dress that ends just above my knees. “Why? Does it look bad?”

“No, you look like a freaking model. I was surprised when you bought it, since it shows part of your back.”

I turn and look at my back in the mirror. The upper branches reaching toward my shoulders with red and pink buds are visible even with my hair down. I shrug. “I don’t care. Oliver thinks I’m beautiful and since he’s been in my life … I’m starting to believe it too.”

I think Alex has tears in her eyes, but she hides it well with a few rapid blinks. “Come here.” She opens her arms to me and I hug her. “Flower, you’re the most beautiful person I know … inside and out. Go have fun.”

“Thanks, Alex.”

“What bar are you going to?”

“Not sure. Chelsea hasn’t messaged me the info yet.”

“Well, text me when you find out. You know, in case we have to come pick up your drunk ass.”

“Thanks, Mom , I will.”

The four of us find a table close to the front, just right of the stage. Chelsea, Felicia, and Tess have fake IDs; it never occurred to me that my new freshman friends are two years younger than I am and not of legal drinking age yet.

“Your tat is incredible.” Tess brushes my hair away from my back.

“Thanks.”

“That had to hurt like hell. I chickened out getting a small butterfly on my shoulder,” Felicia says.

“It took several visits to complete. The pain wasn’t too bad.” I spare them the details of the inspiration for the tattoo being the real pain.

“Drinks?” Chelsea stands.

“Whisky sour.”

“Lemon drop.”

Chelsea looks at me. “Sam Adams, thanks.” I hand her a ten.

“Ooo, dibs on the guy with wavy black hair at the table behind us,” Felicia leans in and whispers followed by a giggle.

“Whatever, I’ve already got eyes for backwards ball cap guy by the stage.” Tess stares and bites her lip.

“See anyone that catches your eye, Viv?”

“Not really.” I haven’t told them about Oliver. I’m not sure how to explain our current situation .

“Not really what?” Chelsea hands us our drinks.

“We’re trying to find a guy for Viv. Tess and I have already spotted our prey.” Felicia points out the two guys to Chelsea.

“Nice.” Chelsea nods her head. “I’m keeping my options open. This place is going to be packed in a few hours. I think my guy has yet to enter the building.”

“Maybe he’s coming with Viv’s guy.” Tess and Felicia laugh.

I nurse my beer over the next hour to pace myself. Being the oldest in our group has made me feel like I should be the responsible one too. Chelsea has sung once, but Tess and Felicia are still deciding what they want to sing. I’m too sober to even look at the playlist.

“Viv?” Tess yells over the music. “You have to get on the list. Hurry up and pick a song.”

I sigh, staring at my empty beer bottle. “Okay.” I go get another beer, okay two, and I put my name on the list. By the time I get back to the table, three guys have pulled up chairs and joined our group.

“Viv, this is Mike, Lance, and Troy.” Chelsea introduces us.

The guys all seem polite, so I sit back down and start on my second beer as the roar of the crowd picks up with the start of the next performance. My new friends work their flirt overtime while I make out with my beer bottle. By my third beer, I have a confident buzz going and I decide to quit since my name will be called soon.

My phone vibrates in my purse. I assume it’s Alex checking up on me even though I sent her the location of my whereabouts earlier. It’s a text.

Oliver: Hey, baby. What are you up to tonight?

I focus on the screen and type slowly … My dexterity is a little impaired.

Me: Hi, babe! At a bar with friends.

Oliver: Bar? What kind of bar?

Me: One with people, alcohol, and music. LOL!

Oliver: Not karaoke, hopefully.

Me: Not funny and yes maybe.

Oliver: Yes, funny! Want to sext with me?

Me: Not now … when I get home.

Oliver: Are you refusing me?

“Who are you texting, Viv?” Chelsea giggles. “Your imaginary boyfriend?” The small coed gathering at our table breaks out into laughter. Yes, I’m the loner.

“Yep, my imaginary boyfriend.” I giggle to myself because everything is funny after three beers.

Me: Gotta go. I’m up soon!

I slip my phone back in my purse and try not to think of Oliver and his naughty texts that I’m missing out on.

“I think you’re next, Viv!” Tess squeals.

I start to stand as the announcer comes to the mic, but he doesn’t announce me. He announces some guy. Konrad Rosenberg. Amazing name, I think to myself as I sit back down.

“Hey, I thought you were next?” Felicia asks.

I shrug. “Some jerk probably slipped a twenty to the announcer so he could budge in front of me.”

The piano starts as a voice comes in with the first note.

“Ron Pope’s ‘A Drop in the Ocean.’ I love this song!” Tess jumps up and down in her seat.

My head is a little fuzzy, but the voice is familiar. I squint to see who’s singing it, but they’re standing back behind the corner of the stage and all I see is a shadow.

“Holy shit!” Chelsea says.

“Dibs!” All three of my new friends call as the performer steps into the light.

I think I could faint. It’s been almost eight weeks since I’ve seen him and he’s here. I can’t believe he’s here! To hell with the song, my friends, or the crowd, I stand. “Nope, he’s mine.” Squeezing my way through the crowd, I worm a path to the stage.