Whoops.
Twisted
It was the same old thursday night. Karaoke at Twisted Lizard was always cheap for those closest to being minors, because well, they were easy targets. But as she and her friends knew, two could play at any game.
And so, things become routine. Thursdays were always the best days of the week, leaving memories behind that would be talked about for months, until they had too many stories and needed to keep only the new ones around. Surprisingly, some of them actually had voices that were fun to listen to, and the crowd was always keeping them on their toes. With drinks being dealt, voices mixing and laughs bounding around the room, Thursdays were the days that dreams (teenage dreams of course) were made of.
But things change.
Don't they always?
It wasn't monumental though. No tearing down of the building, or anything life shattering. Just another minor gaining the freedom to drink freely. This minor however, is unlike the others. Had he been ordinary, I guess this story wouldn't have been written. He was a special one.
Only having been 18 for 2 hours, the boy, Lloyd, had been itching to finally see what bars were really like. To his surprise, it was a dingy, smelly place with only a few bar stools and a limited array of alcohol. With two beer for himself, and a grudging smirk, Lloyd began to scope. Now this, of course, is an exaggeration. He took one quick look around the place only to find that the girls in this magical wonder were just like any other girls. If not more ordinary than regular high school girls. But nevertheless, he drank his beer and kept his eyes on the one thing that seemed attention drawing.
She was singing. Singing is up to your opinion, but in my opinion, this girl was the things that American Idol thrived on. I can almost hear Simon Cowell's voice, "Keep your bloody day job." Regardless, she had the charming smile that could make anyone sway. I swear, this girl could ask the president himself for a cup of tea, and he would personally brew it and stamp it with the presidential seal. So she was pretty, so what? Lloyd thought, I'm sure I could find prettier. And for all we know, he could have. But, I'm sure you can imagine, he didn't.
As she stumbled off the stage, (not from alcohol, she is just clumsy as hell) her friends gathered around her to chit chat and do whatever drunken teenagers do. For Lloyd, that made her very hard to get, and for his first night of true adulthood, he needed a challenge. She seemed challenging enough. Frankly though, Lloyd really isn't as cool as he is making himself out to be right now. He was in the high school plays, wearing fucking tights. Basically, he was like a 12 year old boy that was dared by his friends to find a pretty girl on the playground and kiss her. Lloyd, being the daring boy that he was, waltzed right up to the girl and asked her, "W-would you like a drink?"
"Absolutely! Whiskey and coke please," She said, almost as if she had been expecting him. The giggles around her mocked him, but he was drunk, and drunk people just don't care. He realized that he had known her from school faintly, and they had even been in the same chemistry class. She had always struggled, but like I said, she was just so damn pretty! Anyways, once he stumbled off to get her drink, he decided to ask for her number. He figured that if he insisted on walking her home, not only would he see where she lives, he might be able to sneak in a goodbye kiss.
But she already had a drink in her hands when he got there, and the entire group seemed ready to go. Except her. She was intent on showing him that she was not just some girl that wouldn't follow her word. Her hands slipped around the cup he had shaking in front of him before she leaned her face in close and whispered, "Thanks."
"You're welcome. Do you need to be walked home? I mean, not like you don't know your way, but I'm sure it would be safer if you had someone around, preferably a big strong man that could protect you in case of danger because you know times like these when murderers are your best friend and you would never have even known, and I mean c'mon who even trusts anybody anymore, I mean you can trust me because I've got a face of a bad liar, and if I was going to rape you, you'd know, but I'm not going to rape you don't worry. Anyways can I walk you home?"
(No seriously, he said that.)
"I would love company. Lloyd right?" She fluttered her eyelashes not realizing that at this point Lloyd was pretty much a muddle of butterflies and alcohol. The slightest of breezes could have knocked him over, so she really didn't need to prove a point by fluttering her damn eyelashes like a goddamn movie star.
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I am Lloyd and I am your escort home."
"Alright Lloyd, then we are off."
He hadn't seen all of her friends slip away. He hadn't noticed that the bars open signs were now off, and they were the two souls left in the building besides the moth flittering near the light, if you count that as a soul.
The walk home was a basic 7.89 minute walk. I can tell you this with full honestly because once her and her friends had to do a math project and they thought it would be funny to count how long it would take to get from the bar to her house. When you're thirteen, everything is funny. Lloyd, you can imagine, was a mess. Really, his conversational techniques were that of a WoW nerd. But she was one for words.
She told him where she grew up, about her childhood, what she wanted to do after school, and about things that normal people don't tell strangers upon 15 minutes of meeting, like how her favourite colour is purple, but not average purple, that purple that comes out in sunsets sometimes when you're lucky. By the time he reached her doorstep, he was so enveloped in her talking that he found himself sad to be at the end of their trip.
"So that's me," she muttered with a sad grin, "And maybe next time we can talk about you?"
His face instantly lit up, and he mumbled, "You want to see me again?"
"Of course. You seem really interesting, I'd love to spend some time with you."
They switched phone numbers and did the whole awkward thing like normal teenagers do, and then he pulled a stunt completely unlike anyone else in the history of the world has ever done.
He kisses her.
On the cheek.
They say their goodbyes, and he reached in for another kiss. This time on the front of her hand, bidding her adieu.
And then, when yet another thursday rolls around, they find themselves next to each other.
And so, things become routine. Thursdays were always the best days of the week, leaving memories behind that would be talked about for months, until they had too many stories and needed to keep only the new ones around. Surprisingly, some of them actually had voices that were fun to listen to, and the crowd was always keeping them on their toes. With drinks being dealt, voices mixing and laughs bounding around the room, Thursdays were the days that dreams (teenage dreams of course) were made of.
But things change.
Don't they always?
It wasn't monumental though. No tearing down of the building, or anything life shattering. Just another minor gaining the freedom to drink freely. This minor however, is unlike the others. Had he been ordinary, I guess this story wouldn't have been written. He was a special one.
Only having been 18 for 2 hours, the boy, Lloyd, had been itching to finally see what bars were really like. To his surprise, it was a dingy, smelly place with only a few bar stools and a limited array of alcohol. With two beer for himself, and a grudging smirk, Lloyd began to scope. Now this, of course, is an exaggeration. He took one quick look around the place only to find that the girls in this magical wonder were just like any other girls. If not more ordinary than regular high school girls. But nevertheless, he drank his beer and kept his eyes on the one thing that seemed attention drawing.
She was singing. Singing is up to your opinion, but in my opinion, this girl was the things that American Idol thrived on. I can almost hear Simon Cowell's voice, "Keep your bloody day job." Regardless, she had the charming smile that could make anyone sway. I swear, this girl could ask the president himself for a cup of tea, and he would personally brew it and stamp it with the presidential seal. So she was pretty, so what? Lloyd thought, I'm sure I could find prettier. And for all we know, he could have. But, I'm sure you can imagine, he didn't.
As she stumbled off the stage, (not from alcohol, she is just clumsy as hell) her friends gathered around her to chit chat and do whatever drunken teenagers do. For Lloyd, that made her very hard to get, and for his first night of true adulthood, he needed a challenge. She seemed challenging enough. Frankly though, Lloyd really isn't as cool as he is making himself out to be right now. He was in the high school plays, wearing fucking tights. Basically, he was like a 12 year old boy that was dared by his friends to find a pretty girl on the playground and kiss her. Lloyd, being the daring boy that he was, waltzed right up to the girl and asked her, "W-would you like a drink?"
"Absolutely! Whiskey and coke please," She said, almost as if she had been expecting him. The giggles around her mocked him, but he was drunk, and drunk people just don't care. He realized that he had known her from school faintly, and they had even been in the same chemistry class. She had always struggled, but like I said, she was just so damn pretty! Anyways, once he stumbled off to get her drink, he decided to ask for her number. He figured that if he insisted on walking her home, not only would he see where she lives, he might be able to sneak in a goodbye kiss.
But she already had a drink in her hands when he got there, and the entire group seemed ready to go. Except her. She was intent on showing him that she was not just some girl that wouldn't follow her word. Her hands slipped around the cup he had shaking in front of him before she leaned her face in close and whispered, "Thanks."
"You're welcome. Do you need to be walked home? I mean, not like you don't know your way, but I'm sure it would be safer if you had someone around, preferably a big strong man that could protect you in case of danger because you know times like these when murderers are your best friend and you would never have even known, and I mean c'mon who even trusts anybody anymore, I mean you can trust me because I've got a face of a bad liar, and if I was going to rape you, you'd know, but I'm not going to rape you don't worry. Anyways can I walk you home?"
(No seriously, he said that.)
"I would love company. Lloyd right?" She fluttered her eyelashes not realizing that at this point Lloyd was pretty much a muddle of butterflies and alcohol. The slightest of breezes could have knocked him over, so she really didn't need to prove a point by fluttering her damn eyelashes like a goddamn movie star.
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I am Lloyd and I am your escort home."
"Alright Lloyd, then we are off."
He hadn't seen all of her friends slip away. He hadn't noticed that the bars open signs were now off, and they were the two souls left in the building besides the moth flittering near the light, if you count that as a soul.
The walk home was a basic 7.89 minute walk. I can tell you this with full honestly because once her and her friends had to do a math project and they thought it would be funny to count how long it would take to get from the bar to her house. When you're thirteen, everything is funny. Lloyd, you can imagine, was a mess. Really, his conversational techniques were that of a WoW nerd. But she was one for words.
She told him where she grew up, about her childhood, what she wanted to do after school, and about things that normal people don't tell strangers upon 15 minutes of meeting, like how her favourite colour is purple, but not average purple, that purple that comes out in sunsets sometimes when you're lucky. By the time he reached her doorstep, he was so enveloped in her talking that he found himself sad to be at the end of their trip.
"So that's me," she muttered with a sad grin, "And maybe next time we can talk about you?"
His face instantly lit up, and he mumbled, "You want to see me again?"
"Of course. You seem really interesting, I'd love to spend some time with you."
They switched phone numbers and did the whole awkward thing like normal teenagers do, and then he pulled a stunt completely unlike anyone else in the history of the world has ever done.
He kisses her.
On the cheek.
They say their goodbyes, and he reached in for another kiss. This time on the front of her hand, bidding her adieu.
And then, when yet another thursday rolls around, they find themselves next to each other.