Girl Walks Out of a Bar Read Online Free PDF Page A

salty sea air mixed with the smell of garlic powder melting into drawn butter. I could hear the whir of the blender inside as Russell yelled, “Frozen margaritas—two minutes!” Jessica, Devon, and I giggled and cackled as we remembered listening to a bunch of day-tripping teenagers on the beach talking about their evening plans. “We’re totally getting into the Albatross tonight. It’s gonna be awesome,” we heard one of them say. Our cigarette smoke trails crossed and we shook with laughter as we joked about a bunch of seventeen-year-olds with fake IDs trying to use pouty lips and cleavage to get past Bobby, the bar’s grumpy, gay bouncer.
    That’s how it always was when we got together—it was comfortable. It was funny. It was easy. We were happy. And we were usually smoking and drinking. Now I was afraid I’d never fit in with my friends again. I was going off the rails and ruining everything. Another reason to hate myself.

    Snapping back, I realized it was close to lunchtime. “Hey, you guys hungry? Should we order Chinese?” I asked. “Maybe we should eat and I’ll take a nap before we go.” I was trying to slow the clock.
    â€œYeah, get a bunch of food.” Jerry said. “Don’t know when you’re going to get a decent meal again!”
    After a full plate of spring rolls, sweet and sour shrimp, and broccoli with garlic sauce, I needed sleep. “You guys, I’m going down for a nap,” I said, staggering into the bedroom.
    When I awoke several hours later, it was dark outside. For a moment I forgot the gravity of my situation, but as my eyes began to adjust to the light of my bedside lamp, my mind caught up on current events. I was about to slide back under the covers when Devon padded into the room, having long ago kicked off her Gucci shoes.
    â€œI packed your bag,” she said. “You never know who’s going to be in rehab, so I put some nice stuff in, too: good bras, a couple of short skirts, high heels. . . There could be rock stars there.”
    â€œI doubt it’s that kind of place,” I said.
    Devon shook her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s entirely possible, so you and your nice panties will be ready.”
    I washed my face, brushed my teeth and walked back out into the living room where my support team remained gathered, still sipping red wine from large glasses. It was time to leave. All I had to say was “Let’s go,” but instead, I flopped my still exhausted body down onto one of the club chairs. My friends stood up and began to put their coats on. They talked about who should share a cab, and I panicked.
    â€œYou know what, you guys? I’m feeling way better. Maybe I should just get more sleep and go tomorrow instead.” My leg was draped over the oversized arm of the chair, and I avoided eye contact with everyone.
    Devon whipped around toward me. She was holding a little bag with my toiletries and pointed a tube of toothpaste at me. “Oh, no, you don’t!” she said. “After what we went throughtoday? And what you told us you’ve been doing? You’re going to detox, and you’re going right now.” I looked to the guys for help, but all three of them were nodding in agreement.
    Russell turned to me as we were walking out. “Why don’t you give me a set of keys? I’ll come back here with Devon and we’ll make sure there’s nothing lying around when you get back.” Russell was always two steps ahead of a situation. It was part of what made him so successful in law and in banking.
    â€œOK, yeah, good idea,” I said, watching him drop my spare set of keys into his jacket pocket. Then I said, “Oh wait, you know what else? Take down all the sweaters on the shelves in the walk-in closet. Shake them to see if any stray bags of coke fall out,” I paused, thinking through my other stashes. “Oh yeah, and the