She Is Beautiful

Matt followed me out the door of the bar to take a smoke break. I lit my cigarette, and he lit his. I could tell he was about to make a dumbass comment.

"Can't believe you just fuckin' let her walk out like that," he scoffed.

I took a drag on my cigarette and blew the smoke out from between my teeth. I adjusted my hat nervously. It was at that moment when I asked myself, like I did every time I went out with Matt, why the hell I ever hung out with this asshole. He took a drink of his beer and shook his head.

"I saw her smile, and I ducked out," I shrugged. "She's too nice. I saw it in her eyes."

"And you're not into nice girls?" Matt said.

I shot him a look and said, "I'm into girls who are into me."

"She could be into you. She sure was staring at you pretty hard."

"So was I." I took another drag as a few cars pulled into the parking lot. "She was gorgeous. And I mean, really fucking beautiful."

"I'll give you that," Matt replied. "So what? You just let her go."

I was silent. The first group of people walked in, and I eyed a few middle-aged women with young men on their arms.

"Maybe next time, I'll bring Dylan or George. A real wingman," I said.

"I didn't come out here to be your wingman," Matt said. "That was never the plan. If it was, I would have done a lot better job. Believe you, me."

I flicked my cigarette away. Matt's eyes followed two blondes into the bar, and he nudged me. One looked back and smiled.

"You into that?" Matt chuckled.

"Blondes," I said. "Can't say I'm a fan, but I will if I have to."

***

I woke up the next morning, the sun shining in my eyes. I choked against the stale smell of weed and booze; it was all too familiar. I sat up, a little too quickly, and I felt my head do a backflip. I covered my eyes and groaned.

I felt something move next to me, and I looked over. One of the two blondes from last night was sleeping peacefully, but I groaned again. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. There were clothes scattered everywhere, beer bottles, half smoked cigarettes and blunts - elements in what used to be a good night. I was getting too old for this shit.

The girl made a noise, and I shook her.

"Get up," I said. "Come on. Get up."

The girl rolled over and smiled at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Let's go," I said, reaching over for her clothes.

She dressed slowly, still hungover. I opened the window near the bed to let the stink out of the room. I was sure the neighbors weren't going to be too happy, but the amount of fucks I was giving at that point were zero to none. I reached for my phone and saw a text from Jorel.

First tour meeting - noon.

I looked over at the clock. 11:15am. I yanked a pair of shorts on and found a t-shirt. The girl was still taking her time dressing, but I handed her her shoes and purse.

"Come on, I gotta go," I sighed. "You gotta go."

"But I just-"

"Talk later. Move now."

I led her out the door and shut it behind us. I fumbled with my keys as I got in my car. The girl tried to get in next to me, but I conveniently forgot to unlock the doors.

"Call me?" she said.

"Sure," I said.

"Wait, you don't have my number-"

I peeled away from the curb and looked at my phone again. Shit, I could be there in time after all. I slipped my sunglasses on and opened the sun roof. I blinked away my hangover, and on the back of my eyelids, I saw her smile again. I inhaled the thin air coming in through the windows. Matt was right. I let her walk out.