Girl's Night Out

Girl's Night Out

A Chapter by J. F. Charleston

Lauren sat in front of two piles of essays from Mrs. Greensby. Her head pounded so hard as if took a sledge hammer to it. She still had two more papers to read, analyze, and to grade. Some of the papers were a joy to read, because the students had a good argument and knew how to write a paper. She looked at the clock sitting on the mantle of the fireplace; desperate for it to strike seven.

"Ugh... These papers are going to take forever", Lauren mumbled to herself.

 

Surprisingly, to Lauren's astonishment, the last papers were fairly short; cut straight to the point and supported well. She looked at the papers in the finished pile on the wooden coffee table and then up at the clock on the crown-molded mantle.

"Only an hour and a half until seven", Lauren asked herself. "Well, I aught to go and get ready."

 

The water was nice and refreshing as Lauren sat in the tub with white bubbles up to her neck. The bubbles tickled her skin as she soaked. She had gotten her iHome and set it beside the tub, playing her favorite music. Usually she'd grab a book, but tonight she decided to make an exception for some George Strait and Brooks and Dunn.

Lauren's room was cold as she walked in. Her wet shoulders and ratty hair were making her freeze. Her undergarments were chilled, as well, underneath her towel. The clock on the night stand told her it was three quarters until seven. She looked at her selection of clothes that hung neatly in her wardrobe.

"It's suppose to be cold tonight, so get a pair of jeans and warm clothing", Lauren thought to herself as she examined every piece of fabric she had hanging in her wardrobe."How about a pair of 'Miss Me' jeans, a t-shirt, and my Carhartt jacket." She took a red T-shirt and through it over herself, and then she slid into her light colored jeans. She picked up her pair of brown, snipped toed Cowgirl boots and slipped them on. Her Carhartt was hanging in the coat closet down stairs.

 

As she came down the stairs, she heard the sound of a car door shut. Footsteps from outside became louder, and the door knob turned and the door swung open, letting her older sister in the house.

"Ready", Kristen asked as she shut the door. She wore a similar outfit of Lauren's, but instead of jeans, she had cut-off shorts instead.

"Just let me get my Carhartt out of the closet", Lauren answered walking over to the closet and grabbing her brown coat. "So, where are we going?"

"Dancing at the bar."

"I should have figured you would want to."

"Hey, there's no place better, and I'm leaving tomorrow."

"In that case, don't get drunk."

"C'mon, Lauren. What's the fun of dancing sober?" Kristen joked.

 

The bar was fairly filled for a Thursday night. A couple of drunk guys giving the bartender a hard time, a couple of guys sitting on their stools not bothering to talk, and there's always a few people on the dance floor.

 

"Hey, shair", a drunk at the bar said to Lauren. She could tell he was hammered, and he had a freaky smile on his face as he stared at her. His eyes were glossy and blank. "Shay we'sha dancesh'a little?"

"No thanks, I'm taken", Lauren replied sternly.

"Whatsha matter?"

"I don't want to dance with you."

"Oh, yesh yoush-a will." The drunk grabbed Lauren's arm and tried to pull her off the stool. She struggled to get free, and then the drunk's hand slipped off her arm. A man in a camo ball-cap, jeans, and a t-shirt walked the drunk out of the bar.


Lauren was examining her arm where the drunk had grabbed her. "You alright", a familiar voice asked. She looked up at the man; it was Jacob.

"Yeah, I'm ok. What are you doing here?" Lauren asked

"I'm here with a friend. You?"

"I'm here with my sister. You remember Kristen?"

"Yeah."

"She wanted to do something with me before she leaves tomorrow."

"I see... don't let me get in the way of anything."

"Trust me, you're not. Come on and dance with us."

"Alright."


Jacob was led out on to the dance floor as a slow song came on. Jacob took Lauren's hand and she placed hers on his back. They two-stepped with the music and in the dim lights of the bar. They smiled at one another; then Jacob spun her around then back into his arms.


             


"No Kristen", Lauren said to her sister who had a little too much to drink. "You're to gone. You're not driving."

"I'm fine", Kristen said nearly tripping over herself.

"Kristen", Jacob said. "Let me drive you home."

"Yeah let Jacob take you home so you don't get a DWI right before you go back home."

"I'm fine, but ok."


Jacob and Lauren laid Kristen in the backseat of her Range Rover, and Jacob handed his keys to Lauren. She followed them in his truck to her house. As they went through an intersection, a sheriff stopped at the red light.

"Please don't pull them over", Lauren said to herself looking into the review mirrors. The light changed and the sheriff turned into her lane behind her. The sheriff passed Lauren, and was gaining on Jacob and Kristin.

"Please don't turn those lights on."

The sheriff went the same speed as the Range Rover, and then it turned off the road into the gas station.


"We got lucky with that sheriff", Jacob said to Lauren after they helped Kristen up the stairs and into bed.

"Yeah, I was scared to death", Lauren said.

"That was my partner, and he likes pulling over drunks."

"Good thing the two of us weren't."

"Yeah. When do you have to get to the school tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow's my last day there. I gotta be there at 8:00AM."

"Ok, I don't have to be at the office until 8:30."

"Ok. When do you get off?"

"Probably not until six or seven. I gotta go."


Lauren walked with Jacob to the door and out to his truck. He turned to Lauren, placed his hands on her hips and pulled her close, and then kissed her lips that tasted like whiskey. Before he climbed into the cab, Lauren hugged him tightly. She watched his tail lights disappear down the road from the porch.



 



© 2013 J. F. Charleston


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Added on April 15, 2013
Last Updated on September 1, 2013


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J. F. Charleston
J. F. Charleston

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"Write from the brain and heart. Join them to create one great piece of writing." J.F. Charleston. more..

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