Big Sky

I made a point of avoiding not only a certain tall, tan hockey-playing Canadian, but also my best friend for two full days. It proved easier than I had initially anticipated when I conveniently needed to run to Bozeman for animal feed and other necessities one day and had to trailer Remi to an “impossible-to-reschedule” appointment at an equine chiropractor about 50 miles away.

Of course my dad wasn’t happy that I was gallivanting all around while we had guests, but I coordinated everything to make sure things would run smoothly. The four Blackhawks had a lesson in roping and driving cattle one day and a chance to try their hand at the mechanical bull. While I would have paid to see Patrick Kane attempt to ride the bull, I really didn’t want to run the risk of facing my definitive crush on Jon. My inability to prevent myself from saying silly things and turning into a tomato in his presence was unflattering and, in my opinion, unsafe.

Shae was a different story. She oscillated from leaving me pleading voicemails to call her and let her say sorry, that she didn’t realize I would be so mad, and texting me that our friendship was over and she was sick of the “massive stick jammed up my ass”.

Knowing that was a bluff, I really just couldn’t bear to call her because I knew the second I did, I would cave and my anger would dissolve. In a sense, I kind of wanted her to suffer just a little bit more. But I knew I couldn’t avoid her forever.

When I pulled into the circle drive in front of the barns, the four guys had a rather competitive game of kickball going in an open grass paddock, about 100 yards away. It had been a light day of activity for them, as we usually gave a couple afternoons “off” to the patrons.

Mostly ignoring their friendly calls to come join, I only waved and ducked into the back of the trailer to unload Remi. I hoped that if it appeared that I was on a mission, I wouldn’t be forced to interact.

After getting the grumpy grey horse settled with a flake of hay, I checked my phone. I had a voicemail and 3 texts from Shae.

The last one made me groan in exasperation: El, i know ur home, i see ur truck. call me!

Sure enough, my agitating blonde friend was standing in front of her car parked in the gravel, jeering at Patrick’s apparent bad attempt at a bunt kick. I jogged up to her, and without giving her a chance to begin ranting, I pushed her up towards the house. I wasn’t about to have this conversation in front of people.

Once in the seclusion of my bedroom, Shae turned to me, and took a breath to begin either yelling or apologizing. Unsure of which to expect, I held my hand up.

“Look, I just wanted you to be miserable for a day. I’m over it, and I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” I told her, wilting onto my bed. What I really wanted was a nap, but I knew that wasn’t about to happen with Shae here.

Shae pursed her lips, but smiled after a moment. Leaping onto the bed, she jumped onto me to engulf me in a hug. I hung onto dear life as the motion almost catapulted me off, but I couldn’t help but laugh at her drama.

Arms still wrapped around me, restricting any arm movement, she looked up at me, “So we’re friends again?”

I pretended to contemplate it for a moment. “I mean, yeah, I guess,” I drawled, as though I had a choice.

Choosing to ignore my sass, Shae bounced up and said, “Good, because we’re going out tonight.” Clapping her hands together, she began rifling through my admittedly limited clothing options with a vigor.

I raised my eyebrow. “I mean you can,” I rolled over to face the wall, and pulled the covers over my head, resting my eyes. I honestly hadn’t slept very well. Despite wanting Shae to suffer, I also suffered. I didn’t like being at odds with her, and felt bad because I knew she had meant well.

Dragging the comforter off of me, she barked, “Get up, clean yourself up, you’re going out. We’re going to dance and let guys buy us drinks. There’s going to be a taxi here at 7 so we don’t have to drive home drunk. Because you’re going to get drunk with me.” I rolled my eyes at her commanding tone.

Finding nothing in my closet, she announced that she was running to her car to get clothes she brought, since she knew I was useless at dressing myself. I pulled a face at her, but resigned myself to getting out of bed. I knew she wouldn’t relent and would complain forever if I didn’t go because getting a taxi to pick us up was going to be an expensive waste of money otherwise.



An hour later, Shae had me all done up in a plum colored top, black pants, and the only heels I owned, which I had bought to go to a semi-formal with a friend. She had my hair in soft waves and a rather sexy smoky eye that I couldn’t have managed in a thousand years. As usual, she was adorable in a crop top and a high-waisted skirt. We had been friends for years, but she still managed to make me feel unstylish and ungainly in comparison. Regardless, I was glad for her abilities, because I knew I looked far nicer than I could have pulled off on my own.

Sharply at 7, a honk sounded from the front of the house. Shae grabbed my arm and dragged me down the stairs before I could think about burrito-ing myself in the blankets again.

On the ride to Bozeman, I mellowed out a bit, being out of range of my “crush-crush” as Shae had taken to calling it. It had been a long time since we had gone out, and Shae was excited since Thursday had great specials at the bar we were going to.

Bozeman, while not being a huge city by any means, is the biggest town in our region. In general, it’s a fairly unique and interesting place, having drawn a large population of younger people. It possesses great bars, restaurants and shopping, making it one of the hubs of the surrounding region.

Once we arrived, flashed our ID’s and walked into the bar, I realized why Shae had chosen it. It was trendy but still rugged. It was the kind of bar that played good dance music, as well as good country music.

Marching up to the counter, Shae caught the eye of the bartender and ordered herself a Long Island and me a Whiskey Sour. The bartender slid the drinks to her and winked, “First round’s on me, ladies.”

Throwing a healthy tip into the tip jar, I grabbed the drinks and followed Shae to a booth on the other side of the center bar so we could talk and creep on guys. After an hour of playing “Kill, Fuck, Marry” and picking out the cutest boys with Shae, the bar was still only half-full, clusters of people playing pool and darts and loitering around tables.

Nonetheless, Shae had been scoped out by a handsome, bearded fellow. He came over to flirt with her, and Shae being Shae, graciously attempted to explain that she was here for a girl’s night with her friend, but I could sense her reluctance to brush him off. He was definitely very good looking. Not wanting to be the reason she blew him off, I excused myself to the bathroom, even though I didn’t really have to go.

After checking my makeup in the mirror, washing my hands and doing anything else I could think of to waste time, I left the bathroom and went back up to the bar to order another drink.

I placed a five on the counter to pay for it but the bartender pushed it back. “Paid for, by that guy,” he pointed across the bar to a very cute blonde in a collared shirt. Smiling, I raised my hand to wave, and the guy stood up to come over. He was tall, and lean, and like I said, very cute with a toothy smile and deep-set blue eyes.

He held out his hand for me to shake, “Hi, I’m Kyle.”

“I’m Eliza. Thanks for the drink,” I held the glass up.

With a laugh, he told me, “It was the least I could do for a gorgeous girl who likes whiskey.”

Blushing, I swirled my drink with the plastic straw that came in it.

“So do you come here often?” he asked cheesily.

Looking back up at him, I caught his infectious grin, and laughed loudly at the horrible pick up attempt.

After talking for a half hour or so, I came to find out he was a broker for a firm in Bozeman, and had a black lab named Sasha. He was single, lived in a townhouse and ran 5 miles each day. He was expressive, charming and knew what to say to have me laughing. Well, either him or the whiskey.

I was almost annoyed when Shae interrupted our conversation. Her expression was strange, wide eyed and strained.

“Okay, El, before you kill me, I didn’t tell them we were here,” her eyes flitted to the entrance of the bar, where four well-dressed men were standing. I groaned and buried my head in my arms.

“Then how did they know, Shae?” I questioned, not sure if I should give her the benefit of the doubt.

She tossed her hands up and huffed, “I don’t know El, it’s not like I control the fact that this is one of the best-rated bars in town!”

Kyle quirked an eyebrow, undoubtedly vexed at our conversation. With a weak smile, I explained, “Acquaintances of ours.” Shae rolled her eyes so hard that I thought she might dislocate one of them.

Hoping they wouldn’t notice me, I lowered my head. Unfortunately, Shae had other plans and cheerily called out, “Hey guys! Fancy running into you here!”

All four wandered up to the bar. Shaw, Keith and Kane greeted Shae and I warmly, while Jon ordered a round of beers for them. Awkwardly, I introduced Kyle and the guys by only their first names. While it was unlikely they would be recognized here, I didn’t want to be at fault for it if they were.

While Patrick animatedly caught us up on their activities the last two days, I couldn’t help but giggle at his retelling of the events. He made me feel as though I had missed out on a great couple of days with friends.

It wasn’t until he walked away, and Shaw quipped, “What crawled up his ass?” that I realized Jon was quiet and seemed agitated.

The other three, plus Shae, informed me that they were moving over to a booth. Patrick and Shae were already getting handsy and I didn’t think I could tolerate watching that continue. I tried to ignore the fact that Jonathan was already talking to a very pretty girl across the bar, obviously offering to buy her a drink.

Pretending like it wasn’t significantly uncomfortable, I struck up the same conversation we were having before the interruption.



Two more drinks later, I was getting incredibly tired, and I really just wanted to go back home with Shae.

Very deliberately, I checked the time, and yawned. With an apologetic half-smile I stood and turned to Kyle, “Sorry, but I think I should take off. I have a busy day tomorrow and I was supposed to be here for a girl’s night with my friend,” I pointed a thumb over my shoulder in the general direction of Shae, who was snuggled up against Patrick, watching Shaw and Keith duke it out at pool.

“Looks like she’s a little busy,” he smiled. “I live right down the street, no need for a cab tonight.”

Starting to feel cornered, I told him, “Tempting.” I smiled again, hoping the twinge of anxiety wouldn’t show through, “I just really should go back with Shae.”

He frowned, “Look, she’s with that guy, and I didn’t sit here talking to you all night just for you to leave.”

I started to get angry. “Well, I’m sorry if you feel that you wasted your time, but I never said I was going to go home with you,” I said, my voice raising slightly.

Kyle stood up, glowering, and opened his mouth, clearly about to tell me off.

“She said she wasn’t interested,” a low voice interrupted from behind me before he could.

Turning, I found Jonathan standing behind me, expression stony and dark eyes intense.

Thinking better of challenging him, Kyle angrily threw down a twenty to pay for the last few drinks he had bought. He stalked off, intentionally checking Jon in the shoulder and flinging the door to the street open roughly on his way out.

Indignantly, I crossed my arms. “Thanks for rescuing me, my knight in shining armor,” I droned, the sarcasm dripping thick from my words like molasses.

He tightened his jaw, “He was being a dick to you.”

I grabbed my bag and marched out of the bar, onto the sidewalk out front, hoping Jon wouldn’t follow me.

Of course, he did. “Sue me for not wanting to stand by and let that escalate. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Eliza!”

I paced back and forth, face to the ground, to hide the red in my face and the tears pricking at my eyes from working myself up into a fury.

“Jon, did I ask you to save me? No, I didn’t! Did it look like-,” I raged, but was cut off abruptly by Jonathan’s hands on my waist and lips pressed hard against mine.