Dirty Laundry: A Tucker Springs Novel #3

stewed quietly in his own uncertainty. He would have gone and found a place at the bar or at a table, but Denver didn’t want him to leave. Except now he was simply standing there, which felt dumb.
    This would be a good moment for witty repartee. Brad would’ve come up with a quip that would make everyone laugh, a cutting cynicism that summed up the situation and illuminated it at the same time. Adam tried to think of something, but repartee hadn’t ever been his forte.
    Did he even have a forte?
    “There.” Letting go of Adam’s arm, Denver eased onto a stool he’d pulled out from behind the door before leaning back to observe Adam. “Usually all I do for the first few hours is sit here on my ass until someone gets drunk enough to kick out. You brought a herd with you tonight.”
    “Oh, I came by myself,” Adam said, not realizing Denver had been teasing until he’d already spoken.
    Denver simply smiled. Somehow Adam was sure this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He’d focused so much on getting in the door without bolting, he’d forgotten to plan how to behave once he was inside.
    Denver nodded at the bar, adjusting his hat with the same motion. “I believe I promised you a drink. What’s your poison?”
    “Oh.” Adam thought furiously, trying to figure out how to be cool but safe and sane at the same time. Of course it wasn’t possible. “Um, a mineral water, please. Or just water.”
    “ Mineral water,” Denver repeated, sounding like he thought this might be a joke.
    Adam grimaced. “Yeah. Sorry. But regular water is fine too.”
    He tried to leave it at that, he truly did. But Denver was looking at him funny, and the stress of the awkwardness of the moment was already heavy. The cork popped off Adam’s mouth, and he stood beside himself, helpless, as his neuroses emptied out between them like overturned trash.
    “Sorry, I take a lot of medication, and I can’t drink while I’m on what I took to get here, though I do drink, just not today. I don’t like soda. When I’m nervous, sugar makes me act really funny, and I can’t do artificial sweeteners, so that’s why water. I mean, I’d ask for tea, but that seems weird in a bar, you know? And coffee is out of the question. Too much caffeine. I used to do tonic water, but it has sugar in it, and like I said, it makes me funny, so that leaves water. Or soda water, but that’s just gross. I try for mineral water because it seems festive and it doesn’t seem as rude as asking for water because I still have to pay for it, but then sometimes they don’t have it and they think I’m all fussy, which I guess I am, but I don’t try to be. So really any water would be fine, just so long as it isn’t alcoholic and doesn’t have any sugar, real or fake, thank you very much. I’m sorry.”
    Verbal vomit spent, Adam drew a breath, waiting to see what Denver would say. He hoped it was something, because he could feel Tide Two of Unnecessary Information creeping up his throat.
    Denver blinked a few times. He didn’t speak, but he winked as he slid off his stool and went to the bar, spoke with the server, and came back with a can of La Croix, which he held out to Adam.
    Adam accepted the drink with his face aflame. “Thank you.”
    Cracking the can open, he winced at the noise, which, with his nerves wound so tight, seemed like a gunshot on top of the general bar noise. He focused on taking a drink. It tasted like bitterness. With bubbles.
    More people had come to the door, and Adam watched them move through as Denver checked their IDs, occasionally greeting someone or making some quick comment of recognition. Adam scanned each new arrival, weighing and assessing them by looks and manner. This was the local bar, not the college bar, which he’d already known, but it was interesting to see how the locals parsed themselves out. It was soothing, categorizing people, like sorting his moths. This one is a bear, big and burly, but has a heart of gold. Not much education, but he doesn’t seem to need it. This man is overeducated, using words as weapons to fend off others. This man is a student, and he’s with a pack of students. Undergraduates, one of whom Adam thought he’d seen in the biology building. The students found safety in numbers, but of course that came with conformity, unity. Adam pegged the tall, blond one as the leader, though from the look of the pink-haired one behind him, his territory was in question.
    “People