Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I smile at all the whacky decorations. Like the Mad Hatter designed this place himself. Everything is green. The Blue Room, down the block, has been going strong in Philly since my parents were in their clubbing days. The same owners just opened this new club. Complete with a ceiling made of AstroTurf. Tables are upside-down chandeliers, glass topped, and Tom’s green jean jacket matches the darker green of the stained-glass lamps.
“It was all Eliot,” I admit, placing my helmet on a chair with his. “I’m not even sure how he did it.”
Tom lets out a laugh and props his feet on the table. “Well, if this is all him then we can probably expect to get kicked out soon.”
I’m not sure Eliot would take such a big gamble for tonight. Pure Intentions triple date has commenced. Eliot and his secret date should be here soon with Tom’s surprise date Cody Lancaster. I texted the details to Korey with a K this morning. His reply: be there.
That’s it.
I have a feeling I might be stood up tonight.
Even though the thought of spending time with Korey sounds about as fun as taking off a helmet in space, I don’t want to ruin Eliot’s plan. Korey, unfortunately, plays a significant part in tonight.
Things have gone well so far.
When Frog and Ian show, they simply wave and point at the table they’ll be occupying, one closest to the entrance of this alcove. Frog even pairs perfectly with the green theme in an emerald velvet dress.
I’m more neon than emerald. My eyebrows are painted a slime green. My corset crop top is the same slimy color, and I finished the outfit with leather pants. I feel like me, even if the hostess found it odd.
Picking up the menu, I inspect all the themed drinks and small bites, just as a server swoops in wearing a stylish, mossy button-down and dark green slacks. “I’m Jackson; I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two started with drinks while you wait for the rest of your party?”
“Uh-yeah,” I say. “Can I get the…Emerald City cosmo?”
“Good choice.” Jackson turns to Tom.
“I’ll take the Grasshopper.”
The server nods. “Can I see your IDs?”
Greaaat. This has about a fifty percent chance of working. Most bartenders and servers let our alcoholic drink orders slide, others gloss over the fake IDs, but there are the chosen ones who already know our ages before asking for them.
“Here.” Tom passes over his fake.
Jackson barely reads the birthdate before handing it to Tom. I’m next. The server inspects my card, front and back, and his brows arch, impressed. “Nice fake.”
“Thanks,” I say, cheeks rosy.
“I’ll get you a water.” He returns my ID to me as my spirits fall.
I take back my license. I wish I could also take back that thanks. No thanks to you, sir.
“How’d you know?” I wonder, slipping my ID into my alien rhinestone clutch, a recent Christmas gift from Jane.
“My girlfriend loves your family. The Hales are her favorite on We Are Calloway.”
Tom puts a hand to his chest, affronted. “She doesn’t like the Cobalts?”
Jackson shrugs. “Couldn’t say.” He looks between us. “Need anything else?”
“We’re good,” I say, while Tom blinks steadily, trying to reboot from the ego punch. As soon as the server is out of earshot, Tom says, “I guess there are upsides to not being the fan favorite tonight. I get to drink.”
“Your family is usually the fan favorite,” I remind him.
“Depends on who you ask.”
“Uh-huh,” I nod in agreement. Hales and Cobalts are typically beloved in different ways, while the Meadows are more controversial. Seeing as how Sulli is with two men, lots of people like to voice their opinions about it.
Tom watches me snap my clutch closed, fake license inside. “We should have a fake ID bonfire when you turn twenty-one. Torch that shit.”
“I’m down,” I smile, trying to subdue the nerves and not recheck my phone for updates from Eliot or my date. Tom thinks this is just a normal club night.
My 21st birthday—it’s in a little over two months, and I really haven’t given it much thought besides the fact that Jane and Thatcher’s baby girl is due November 29th. The day before my birthday. I’m kinda crossing my fingers that she’ll arrive a day late. Cosmic happenings like that make for good luck.
Jackson returns with a minty green cocktail for Tom and places the iced water in front of me with a low whisper. “It’s for the best, anyway.” He winks like we’re in on a secret. I think he’s alluding to my family’s history with alcoholism.
My face heats.
Tom doesn’t hear the server.
My dad is an alcoholic, though he’s been sober all my life. Moffy chose to not drink. And now Sulli has also chosen to be sober.
Am I not strong enough to do the same? Or is it okay to just have one mixed drink from time to time?