I send off a quick text to Jesse, knowing he will be silently going into protective panic mode because I haven’t reached out since he dropped me home Tuesday night, then toss my phone onto the desk.

Thursday nights tend to draw an early rush before it settles, but I enjoy the fast-paced environment. Brad is pouring drinks behind the bar and Becky, Sarah and I wait tables. Two hours tick past easily and the happy hour crowd filters out, leaving some girls on the dance floor and a few scattered tables.

“Kins, can you take the new table over in the lounge for me?” Becky shouts over the music.

I nod and smile at her, walking towards the corner we call the lounge. It’s quieter over here, generally it’s filled with those who come to relax rather than dance or drink at the bar itself. We try to cater for everyone. I pass the pool table and the jukebox that divides the dance floor and the lounge, noticing a girl sitting by herself, whom Becky has asked me to serve.

“Hey girl, what can I —”

A pair of deep green eyes meet mine.

“Kinsley? You work here?” The girl interrupts me, jumping up and pulling me in for a hug.

“Sophie?” I say surprised, “Uh yeah, I do. Are you here by yourself?” I glance around looking for any others that she might be here with.

“Nope,” she says, popping the p, with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone, he’s yet to show though … Do you think you could grab me a shot of vodka for the nerves and something ‘girly’ to drink?”

I laugh, “Yes, of course I can, I’ll be right back.”

It’s only the second time I’m seeing this girl, and already I feel as though I could sit in her company for hours. Guilt nips at me for the way I ran out on her at our initial meeting; a strange want to explain myself to her. I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. The secrets I’ve been carrying all these years weigh heavy; I can’t explain myself to her, not yet. Returning with a shot of vodka and a cocktail – thankful that Brad whipped something up at my request of a ‘girly’ drink – I see she’s still alone. Glancing over the bar, everyone is pretty settled and I nod to Becky letting her know I’m taking a break.

“One second, don’t touch that shot,” I tell her as I place my tray on her table. I weave through girls on the dance floor and duck behind the bar, pouring another shot. Brad chuckles under his breath but doesn’t say a word. I have a feeling Becky and him might be an item, and she may have informed him that I’m boss lady as she likes to call me.