“For you, we have wonderfully refreshing lime water with muddled mint leaves. Exactly three ounces.” She leans in close again, no longer wearing her showman bartender persona. Instead, she has serious eyes and an encouraging smile. “If you’ve already reached your daily fluid intake, I won’t be offended if you don’t drink it. But it’s always nice to at least be holding a drink when you’re hanging at a bar with your friends.”

Before I can say anything, another customer appears, waving for Holly’s attention. Back is her friendly grin, and Jasper and I are left alone for the moment. Luckily, he’s people-watching, so no one notices me coming to grips with the strange combination of emotions mixing in my head.

Again, my illness was a factor in something as simple as whether I could even order a drink. That was enough to shame me. Then, Holly figured out exactly what I needed. She knew, likely from her brother, that keeping my body fluids balanced was imperative while on dialysis, so she gave me a small, precisely measured drink. And not just a glass of water. No, she found flavors and elements that were acceptable for my strict diet. The kindness of this gesture, delivered right when I felt like crawling into a hole, floors me.

Just to give my mind something else to focus on, I reach for the glass and take a sip.

It’s delicious. The taste is fresh and clean, cooling my mouth on its way down. I want to chug the whole thing and ask for another. Instead, I savor the treat.

“You’ve got a good one there.” Jasper takes a break from scanning the room, observing me instead.

He’s a sharp guy; he reads people well. No doubt, he knows exactly how gone I am on Holly. We glance down the bar to where she’s popping the caps off a couple of beer bottles.

“Problem is that I don’t actually have her.” I fidget in my seat, trying to shrug off my infatuation. “Besides, I just want us to be friends. She shouldn’t have to give her kidney to a complete stranger. She should know me.”

Jasper snorts. “Whatever you say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just interested to see if you can actually be around her for months and not try anything. It’d be impressive, is all.” Jasper appears so smug.

To prove I don’t have to hover near Holly, I get up to search for Sammy. Just to check on the guy. A couple steps past the arched doorway, and I spot him. He’s hard to miss.

Sammy owns the dance floor. I had no idea he had any sort of rhythm, but he moves with the beat, lost in his own world. I can’t even tell if he’s dancing with anyone. Watching my normally rigid roommate let loose and actually enjoy himself has me grinning.

Jasper was right. Sammy’s been wearing himself into the ground. And it’s not even like he needs to. The guy is insanely intelligent. Whenever someone points this out, he always shrugs off the compliment, claiming he has the typical Asian parents who drive him to overachieve. I’ve met the Ches, and they are definitely hard customers to please. But, even without their pushing, I don’t think Sammy would have any trouble maintaining his 4.0. He doesn’t seem to agree most days, which is why nights like tonight are so important.