She stood up to dance and turned away from him, part of her wondering if he was still looking at her. She had been dancing alone and singing along with the guitarist for a good hour before she had noticed him. He had surely seen her dancing by now and for the first time that night she was aware of the people in the pub and that she had been dancing alone in front of all of them. Shyness threatened to make her go hide in the crowd, but she shook it off. Everyone had already seen her, so what was the big deal now? She hadn’t thought about it before and now she just simply would not care. She had a few beers in her, so it was easier to set the unpleasant thoughts of being watched aside. When she wanted to dance, she was going to dance and the fact that no one else was doing it didn’t matter to her.
Very soon he was at her side. She did not see him walk up. She had been dancing. He held a fresh drink in his hand. He had a playful smile. Nice. He had to lean down to talk to her. He introduced himself. The name he gave her was also the name of the first boy she had fallen in love with twenty years before. He asked her name and repeated it back to her when she told him. He pronounced it correctly. He listened well. Very good. He invited her to come over and sit with him and his friends. She didn’t remember them now.
She was dimly aware she was getting drunk so she was being more brazen than she normally would. She did not care. They talked. They laughed. She had just had a birthday ten days before and she had been in Atlanta for only about six weeks. She didn’t know anyone and was way past caring about what people would think of her the next day. She hopped up when a song she loved was played and announced she was going to dance. She didn’t ask him to come with her.
The rest of the evening was fuzzy. She remembered coming back to the table after going to the bathroom and there was no where for her to sit. When they had originally come up to the table she had sat on the bench where he had been sitting and he pulled up a chair almost in front of her so they could talk. Now there was someone sitting in her spot. Without taking time to think whether it was a good idea, she sat on the only available place – his knee. She was completely nonchalant about it. It did not cross her mind that these were people she had just met.
It was odd what she did remember. She remembered he’d been drinking Red Bull and Kettle One but she didn’t remember where she had been when he first kissed her. She just remembered the kiss itself. And, of course, there were other things she remembered that came much later in the night after he had taken her home. She also remembered their conversation the next day when he was driving her back to her car. It was one of the best lines she had ever come up with and it had been completely spontaneous. And it was the truth. She had the last word and got out of the car. Maybe she would hear from him. She hoped so.
He called and told her he wrote a story about their meeting. He wrote. This was new. And this was very interesting. Suddenly, she was way more curious about this guy. That she was attracted to him was obvious, but this elevated her interest to a different level. He was a writer. She read the story. It wasn’t that she had never dated anyone who wrote before – she had, but this was different. He had portrayed the evening fairly accurately. A few details were changed. She had no issue with the creative license he had taken. He had included their conversation in the car the next morning – word for word. She enjoyed reading it. It made her smile – and blush. He wrote well. And she knew good writing when she read it. That was when he got to her.