Trading Heartbeats

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." I leaned on the bar, looking at my friend and coworker Joanna Price through narrowed eyes. "Are you going tonight?" I asked her, hoping to successfully change the subject.

We had been slow all day, a highly unusual occurrence for the beginning of summer. And for weeks we've been busy all day every day, so the fact that I've served only maybe ten people in almost four hours is a particularly huge shock to my system. But it's just after one, meaning Afton will be here soon for lunch, so at very least I can get off my feet for a little bit.

Joie shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. You said Shep's coming too, right?" she asked. I nodded. Afton was my plus one to just about everything, even things that didn't have a plus one. I guess sometimes we're more like a two-for-one deal. "I told JJ and Bowie about it also. They both said it sounds fun," she said.

"So they're probably not coming?" I asked, keeping my expression neutral. Jessenia Jardine and Zane Lucas-Bowen have had a habit of doing that ever since high school. They're the friends you have and you love but you never really know when or if you'll see them.

Another shrug, along with a bit of a laugh and maybe a slight eye roll found Joie saying, "Honestly, who knows," and then she dropped the topic because there wasn't much more we could say about it. "Is there something going on at one of the other courses? We're never this dead," she complained.

I couldn't blame her for wondering out loud. My feet were hurting from standing idle for so long, even though I'd been leaning on the bar off and on all morning. It wasn't helping any. In fact, it was probably making things worse. I put my head down and groaned while silently willing the time to pass more quickly.

"Hard to tend the bar when your head is on it."

I don't know how long I'd been like that when I heard the unmistakable male voice. A smile pulled the corners of my mouth upward as I lifted my head and saw the bright, grinning eyes of the most important man in my life.

"Hard to tend the bar when no one is at it," I countered as he took a seat in front of me. "What's the deal?" I asked, though I didn't really expect him to have an answer.

He shrugged, nodding at the beer tap next to me. "Word is a couple douchebag kids rented this course for the day." I rolled my eyes and slid a full glass of Sam Adams across the bar. He took a sip and winked at me. "What time's your break, kiddo?" my father inquired.

"Not soon enough," I replied. He gave me a look that made my annoyance crack and allowed a giggle to escape. "One thirty," I told him. "Afton's coming."

He nodded as he sipped his beer. "I can swing lunch for three instead of just two," he shrugged.

"Mmm," I hummed, "and what if you're not invited?"

"Did I ask if I was invited?" he countered.

"Point taken," I replied, resuming my previous position of leaning on the bar.

Of course I was kidding. My dad is one of my favorite people on the planet, second only to my mother, and followed closely by my sister and brother. Afton and I have known each other long enough that she's just like family, so she won't mind having lunch with my dad either. She loves him almost as much as I do. Plus, he's paying, which means I don't have to. And so he sat there, sipping his beer and chatting with Joie and me until she arrived. Just as I did, she gave him a hard time about lunch, but kissed his cheek as I took his glass and deposited it into the sink before he stood, rising to his full height.

The thing about both my parents is that they are tall. I don't know what happened to me that I am so petite, but my dad is more than a foot taller than me, and my mother, seven inches. Jameson and Jaelynn are both taller than me also: Jae by only a few inches and James by half a foot so far. But being seventeen, they might still grow, though the possibility of James growing is stronger, as girls on both sides of the family tend to stop growing around age seventeen. The boys tend to continuing to grow until closer to twenty one.

We moved into the dining room. Usually when I only have a thirty-minute lunch I'll order ahead of time so it's ready when I sit down, but I didn't bother since almost no one has been in all day. And I was right that it didn't matter because our food was in front of us barely ten minutes after we ordered.

"When are we going to the range again?" Afton asked. She looked back and forth between me and my dad. "Leg still good?" she inquired.

When she says 'range' she's talking about archery. And when she asks if my leg is still good, she's referring to the archery related accident that kept me out of school for the last semester, plus part of the previous semester.

I nodded. My leg is good, though sometimes I get a slight limp when I've been on it too long. Also sometimes when I'm tired. The doctors said, due to the nature of the injury, that will likely always be the case. "I'm off Monday," I said.

"You're off every day," my dad offered, not missing a beat. Afton chuckled and I tossed her a look that said not to encourage him. She shrugged at me and didn't bother to wipe the smile from her face. "I can be off again Monday," he said.

"You're off every day," Afton and I said at the same time in the same dumb voice. None of us could keep it together. Obviously it wasn't the first time we'd done something like that and it most certainly wouldn't be the last but it still got us sometimes.

Afton had pulled out her phone to check her calendar before she stopped laughing. Sucking in a breath, she said, "I have a couple appointments Monday morning but I should be done by eleven at the latest." My dad and I both nodded, agreeing that a late morning excursion would be fine. Afton kept her gaze fixed on me. "Speaking of," she went on, "when are you going to let me get my hands on your hair again?" she asked.

I shrugged. Afton started beauty school while we were still in high school and has been licensed for three years now. She always cuts my hair but it's been at least twice the amount of usual time between cuts. But I don't respond to her verbally because I'm only half listening to what she's saying. The other half of my attention is focused on the two figures I see outside. Two familiar people, though I've never met them before.

She can tell that I'm not paying attention to her and taps the table twice. We do that when the other checks out of a conversation. I'm supposed to come back, but I don't. I kept staring out the window at whom I can only assume are the 'douchebag kids' my dad was talking about earlier.

Afton slammed her hand on the table. My dad and I both jumped and I turned my attention back to her. "What are you staring at?" she demanded, obviously annoyed by my lack of attention to the subject so serious as the state of my hair. Though, to be fair, it is kind of a mess.

I didn't respond verbally but moved my head to the side so she could see past me. It took about fifteen seconds for her expression to change to one similar to what mine must have looked like. "Do you know who that is?" she asked after a long moment. She was otherwise speechless.

"Everyone in the free world knows who that is," I snapped at her.

My dad, however, looked confused. "I don't know who that is," he said.

Afton's head fell forward. "That's good, Pops," she said through a chuckle as she reached out and put a hand on my dad's shoulder. "I would certainly hope you don't know who that is." I nodded in agreement and Dad shrugged, obviously deciding to let it go for the moment. But he would ask me later. Or I would just tell him later. Or he would hear when I told Jaelynn. One way or another, he would know.

It wasn't long before I found myself heading back to the bar. Joie was looking even more bored than I had been before lunch. I felt bad she hadn't been able to join us, but someone had to stay and watch the bar, even if no one was coming in.

"Dude," I said as I approached. "Go look who's outside," I told her.

"Who?" she asked.

I shook my head a little, quickly. "Just go look," I insisted.

I think she rolled her eyes a little as she slipped past me to where she could see out the window. She stood there for about a full minute before she turned back to me. "What the fuck?" she said.

"I know," I replied.

She glanced out the window briefly again. "What the fuck?" she repeated.

"I know," I said again.

Joie shook her head. "What the fuck?" she said one more time, and then, "Oh, shit." She turned and hurried back over to the bar. "They're coming over here," she said as she crossed the room.

"They're just people, Jo," I said, watching her move behind the bar and busy herself at the sink, making herself look busy as she washed already clean glasses. Maybe I should have tried harder, or tried at all really, but I couldn't help but laugh at her. "Don't worry, I'll help them," I told her. "Besides, they're probably going to try to get me to serve them alcohol but joke's on them because I know they're not old enough yet."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joie barely nod in response to me. We've had plenty of well-known people come through here and she's never acted like this before. She kept herself busy, and I kept checking on her out of the corner of my eye, watching out of the corner of the other as the two young men approached, the blond one leading the taller, curly haired one.

"ID," I said coolly when he was mere steps away from the bar.

"Pardon?" he replied with an Irish lilt.

"I'll need to see your ID before I can serve you," I said, meeting his gaze. I kept my face neutral and tone even, if not slightly firm. I would not lose my job over a couple 'douchebag kids' trying to get a buzz in the afternoon.

The blond looked back at the brunette and then turned his attention back to me. "Huh," he said, but not in the form a question. They both reached for their wallets. "Never been asked for ID to get water," he commented, sliding a card across the bar. The taller one did the same and I glanced down at them. "Make sure you check those good. Never know when a couple lads will come in and try to pull one over on ya."

I rolled my eyes and pushed the IDs back without looking at them. "If you're just here for water, I don't need to see these. I just assumed..."

"Well, you've heard what assuming does, babe, I'm sure," the taller one drawled, interrupting me before I could finish.

Again, I rolled my eyes. I wasn't even trying to hide it. "I'm not your babe," I told him as I grabbed two glasses and filled them with with water. I set them on the bar and made eye contact with him. He looked mildly surprised at my response.

"Red hot, this one, eh, Harry?" the Irish one said.

Harry's eyebrows raised and the quickly fell. "What's your name, then?" he inquired.

"Jessilynn." I told him. No use lying when it said it right on my name tag that he clearly couldn't be bothered to read.

"Pretty name," he commented, and then looked at his friend. "Would you agree, Niall?" he asked. The other boy gave a short nod, his eyes bouncing from my face to my hands to the wall behind me, to Joie at the sink still pretending to wash glasses. "What do we owe you for the refreshments, Jessilynn?" Harry drawled out.

"No charge for water in a glass. If you want it in a bottle instead, it's three bucks each," I told them. "And feel free to grab a seat. We don't require you to stand while you hydrate."

The blond, Niall, cracked a smile and pulled out the bar stool next to him, but stopped when Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll take two in bottles," Harry said.

To my surprise, I saw Joie move to grab the waters from the refrigerator. Then she was next to me, setting the bottles on the bar in front of the boys.

"Thank you, Joy," Harry said. Apparently he had no problem reading her name tag.

"It's pronounced Joey," I said calmly. For whatever reason, it bothered me when anyone mispronounced her name.

"Like the boy's name?" Niall piped up.

Involuntarily my hand balled into a fist. Joie didn't need protecting, but I've been protective of her since I first met her when we were in eighth grade. And something about these guys, mostly Niall, was getting under my skin. "Like it's short for Joanna," I snapped.

Niall held his hands up. "Apologize for the misunderstanding," he said, though he sounded more offended than apologetic. Harry grabbed the waters while Niall reached for his wallet again. He dropped a bill on the bar. "Keep the change, sweetheart," he said as he turned to follow Harry out.

I looked down at the fifty he'd left in front of me. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I said once I was sure they were out of earshot.

"Well, you weren't exactly nice to them," Joie commented, taking the money and walking over to the register.

I reached into my pocket for my phone. "They're a couple little shitheads, that's why," I growled, as I opened up a Google search.

"You didn't even give them a chance," she argued. "What are you doing?" Joie had come back and was looking over my shoulder at my phone.

"Shh," I said.

"Why are you Googling them? Or, just Niall?" she asked as I typed his name into the search engine.

"Shh," I said again, scrolling through the results. Most of them looked stupid. One Hundred Things You Don't Know About Niall Horan. 57. He's Irish. No shit. I kept scrolling, opening up different results until I was satisfied with what I'd found.

Joie was looking at me expectantly as I put my phone away. "Are you serious?" she asked.

"What?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Are you serious?" she asked me again.

"What?" I said again, a smile creeping across my face as I walked over to the window. They were walking away slowly, in the direction of one of the hotels. "I just wanted to know who he's dating. Guy like that is bound to be with some hot model but also have some girls on the side."

Joie rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows Niall is perpetually single," she said, not even trying to hide her annoyance with me. "Well, except for that thing with that one girl in London. But still, he never confirmed it."

"Good," I said, my smile growing as I continued to watch the boys' shrinking figures. "I'm glad. Because I'm gonna climb that like a tree."