"...Huh?"

My mind is still trying to process what Stevie said as he stares at me with his dopey smile.

"Yeah, that alright?" he asks with caution.

"Wha-... Is it alright? Of course not! Why would you ask Tia?! Of all the people..." I groan, burying my head in my hands. My frustration grows by the second. The thought of seeing Tia again terrifies me.

"Blake buddy, don't you think you're over reactin’ a bit?" Stevie asks, tilting his head.

“No, I'm not,” I say trying to justify myself, “This is Tia we’re talking about. Y’know, that girl that I ran away from? The one who now seems to hate me?”

“Yeah, I know, but this might just help! Think of it as a sorta, exposure therapy! Y’know where you face your fears by being near 'em or somethin’?”

I sigh as I rub my eyes with my hand. Of all the times, why does Stevie have to actually make a modicum amount of sense? I feel dumb for even mentioning her last night.

I look back at Stevie, as he fidgets, waiting on my response with a pleading look. A look begging me to say yes.

I look down, deep into myself. I miss Tia. A lot. Despite the anxiety and rush of dread I feel from talking to her, a cruel part of me wants to.

Maybe it's to make amends, or salvage what's left.

I just can't tell.

“Fine.”

Stevie pumps his fist in the air excitedly, before hugging me in a sporadic fashion.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

My now giddy pal then claps his hands dramatically, “Alrighty! Now that we got that outta our way, let’s work on Comby for a bit before happy hour.” he says winking as he emphasizes the last two words.

Me and Stevie spend the next little while working on the buggy. We managed to bolt the engine back into place, making the back look a bit more on the normal side. We also outlined and ordered our parts list. It’s rather long, but everything should be in before the race.

After cleaning it up a bit more, I pack my bag, and we head off towards Sparky’s bar. I feel a tingle in my nerves but manage to subside them for now.

* * *

As Stevie pulls in front of the alleyway leading to the bar entrance, I give Stevie a jokingly serious look.

“Good luck my friend. You know your mission, now go get em sir!” I shout, playfully salute him.

Stevie salutes back as I get out of his truck. I reach into the bed, grabbing my bag. The window rolls down, as Stevie gives me a stoic look.

“Good luck with your mission too, Colonel Blake!”

Before I can ask what mission, Stevie was referring to, his truck zooms off. The loud engine echoing throughout Main Street as the black pickup disappears. Turning back to the bar, I take a deep breath and readjust my backpack before walking in.

The small restaurant looks busy compared to the other night, as one of the small wooden tables are full of people- five or six at least. There’s even someone sitting at the bar, though he looks like he’s about to be sick. As I begin my approach to the bar, I get distracted by something on the floor. A pair of small burnt footprints rests in the middle of the room, around where Mitch had stood when he threatened to burn the bar down.

Looking around, the bar thankfully remained largely untouched from Mitch’s flames. Upon closer inspection though, I see that some of the wood is a bit singed. Little sporadic splotches the floorboard look just shades darker, but still it’s a miracle that nothing caught aflame.

“Hey Blake-”

Tia interrupts my train of thought. I look up to see her holding a big plate full of drinks.

The liquids all shake around, as the glasses clink against each other. Tia seems to be struggling to hold them all, as her hand jitters below the large black plate.

“Just have a seat at the bar. I’ll be up there in a sec.” Tia says in a frantic tone.

“You need some help?” I ask, eyeing her situation again. It’s the least I can do to help right?

Tia doesn’t respond, only rushing past me. My shoulders slump as she soldiers on by herself to the table full of people. I reluctantly follow her instructions, taking a seat right on the middle barstool. The customer sitting next to me looks over, and I catch an eyeful of his sickly expression. He tries to force a friendly smile, but quickly grabs his mouth, running outside. I watch on as before the door has opened, he’s well on his way to puking up whatever is in his empty glass. I hear a faint choking noise as the customer continues to empty his stomach outside. I prop my head on my elbow. There’s some soft blues song playing in the small jukebox behind the counter. I’ve never been a fan of blues. It’s too… depressing for my taste.

I exhale, growing more anxious by the moment. The tension from the other night has already begun to creep back in.

I glance behind me at Tia, who seems apathetic to the customer that had bolted outside. Instead, she looks sporadic. She’s solely focused on delivering the collection of customers their drinks. Her hands fidget as the small square glasses clink against the round, wooden tables. She says something, but her voice is too quiet to understand.

Nodding her head, she briskly makes her way back to the bar almost in a rush. Tia lets out a sigh of relief, taking off her wire-framed glasses to clean them.

“Happy hour just started, and for once I had some customers come in.” she sounds drained, sliding her black full frame glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

I glance back at the door, where I see the sick customer walking out the alleyway outside. The table of customers remains in eyesight as he disappears into the night.

“You got quite the crowd tonight.” I comment, turning back to Tia.

Tia scoffs, looking around. Her hands have already grabbed the man’s glass as she begins cleaning it. “To be honest, this is the most customers I’ve seen in a while, so I gotta make it count y’know?”

“Eesh... Sorry.” I mutter. Seeing her with that blank expression is really unnerving.

“Don’t apologize Blake, it’s not your fault I’m working in a town that’s near abandoned.” she says with dry wit. Tia’s face then changes to a smirk, she looks back at me, her eyebrows half-raised in a charismatic look.

“Y’know Blake, now that you’re here you could be my…” she pauses, counting her fingers, “Eighth customer tonight!”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Well Tia, that's a nice sales-pitch but I’m good.” I say, frowning as I shake my head. I feel a flashback from last night. I’ve felt weak since I woke up, and the mere thought of consuming another drop of alcohol makes me queasy.

“Oh.” Tia mutters in a disappointed tone as she looks down, “No money left over from college, huh?”

“Nope,” I struggle to keep my composure, “Actually, I’m already kinda hungover.”

Tia nods, her eyebrows raising with a disappointed glance.

“Figures.”

I can’t help but exhale as I look down in annoyance. I really don’t feel like dealing with this all night.

“Alright,” I look back up at Tia, clapping my hands together. She looks up at me as I continue, “Look Tia, you and I are stuck together tonight, so why don’t we just nip this in the bud alright? What’s going on? Why are you so upset at me?”

“Oh boy…” she pauses, laughing as she looks up with an unnerving smirk. “There’s plenty. Where do you want me to start?”

Suddenly, a customer interjects from behind me, “Can I get another cosmo please?”

Hearing the customer, Tia nods.

“Just a sec.”

Her hands are already on the move, grabbing a martini glass as her face becomes poised with concentration. Tia’s demeanor has changed.

She grabs a large ice cube, and meticulously breaks it into smaller pieces. The shiny shards let out tiny clinks as they hit the bottom of a metal container. Tia then begins grabbing different colored liquids and pouring them into the small shaker. She’s so controlled with it- not even worrying about measuring the amounts. My eyes drift to her face. She glances at me, giving me a dirty look before going back to work. While her eyes have the same intensity as I’ve seen before, her mouth seems to crack an occasional smile as Tia squeezes the lid onto the shaker and begins shaking it.

I’m amazed at Tia’s movements. They are fluid, like water flowing down a river. The silver shaker seems to become weightless, as she throws it around like a ball. It flips and spins practically infinite times. Tia exhales calmly. She looks calm, cool, content with this. An endless circle of preparing drinks and serving them. I’m almost jealous in a way. Just moments ago, she was upset, but it all seems to have washed away if only for the moment. She cracks another smile as she pops the lid off, pouring the now bright red liquid out.

It swirls as it runs out into a triangle-shaped wine glass. The drink seems to complete itself as Tia delicately places a thin orange peeling on top. It all seemed to happen in a flash. Tia seemed so in tune with herself throughout the process, that time just flew by.

She picks the cosmo up, observing her creation with pride. Her face slowly starts to sink though as she begins her trek to the impatient customer- a hipster looking dude, dawned with a beanie and a red goatee.

Tia’s body language has changed back to the frantic mannerisms she had when I walked in. She briskly delivers her drink, before rushing back to the bar. She exhales again, before going back to the cycle, effortlessly creating another cosmo for herself, which she takes a sip of. As our eyes meet again, I give her a head tilt, still shocked at her skills.

“Where did those bartending skills come from?!”

Tia now gives me a puzzled look.

“Well, I am the owner of a bar Blake. It’s kind of a requirement.”

I throw my hands, my hand raising up to brush my hair out of my face, “Look I was just wondering, cause that right there?! Bad. Ass.”

“Uh huh?” Tia groans. Her attention is somewhat gone, focused on cleaning some dishes. I stop talking, my face sinks a little bit. My energy has deflated to a puddle of disappointment.

“Look Blake, the only reason you’re here tonight is because Stevie has a date. I don’t know what you’re expecting to get out of

this, but you and I making amends is at the bottom of my to-do list.”

I don’t respond, but her words strike a nerve in me. The anxiety that had begun to build up quickly turns to dread. I want to understand what is going on with Tia. I want to help, but there’s a wall there that just doesn’t want to move. Not even a bit.

Muffled rumblings begin emanating from outside the bar, grabbing our attention. Outside the windows, I see a cluster of shadows bouncing from the street, towards the alleyway where the entrance lies. As the door to the bar opens, I catch a sight of what was making the rumblings- A huge crowd of college kids.

They all pour into the small bar like water out of a faucet. There has to be like ten of them, with more following behind.

Their loud incoherent rambling now fills the small room, as the chatter becomes over stimulating. I turn around to see that Tia has now disappeared.

"Tia?!" I ask confused as I look around.

Confused, I peek my head around the corner and see Tia now crouched down, her head just below the top of the bar. Her eyes remain locked on the cabinet door in front of her as she bites the nail on her thumb.

"Everything alright?" I crouch down, giving her a concerned look.

Tia sighs, her face giving an apathetic look.

“Yup.”

I peek over the counter, glancing at the large group of people. They all have spread out around the restaurant, now sitting down at different tables, with some approaching the bar.

My sights quickly fall on one table near the entrance, where everyone seated is dressed in a familiar get-up.

The Cloak, the hat, all of it.

I gasp, as a shot of panic shoots across my body.

There’s Cloaks in the bar.

* * *

“Geez…” Tia croaks softly, now peering over the bar next to me. I almost jump, seeing as Tia had gotten up without me realizing. Her eyes drift across the floor of the now crowded bar.

Slumping back down, Tia leans her back against the mini fridge and rubs her face.

I immediately think of Tia and Mitch’s interaction before he’d left. How she’d pleaded for him to make sure his Cloaks don’t come near the bar, and how he’s obviously not listened.

“I hate people.” she mutters pitifully.

I crouch down. Now at eye level with her, I put my hand on my shoulder, “You want some help?”

She chuckles cynically, brushing my hand off, “Oh absolutely not. I don't need your help, Blake.”

I tilt my head, wincing at her rejection.

“Hey, where's the bartender? I need my drink!” a young bratty voice shouts. A buzz of agreement from other patrons follows.

I look back at Tia. "Look, that's a lot of people out there, and as your friend, I don't think you should have to face that alone."

I must’ve hit some nerve with what I said, because her face changes from sad to surprised real quick. Tia quizzically peaks above the bar again, then looks at me, then at the counter in front of her, letting out a deep sigh.

“No."

“Wha-” I stop myself. All I do is exhale in annoyance.

I hear the group of patrons right on the other side of the bar.

It sounds like they are right on top of us. I glance at Tia, then back at the group of people. I grit my teeth, before standing up to face the crowd. Everyone jerks their head to see me standing here awkwardly. One of the Cloaks gives me a dirty look, before grabbing his buddy’s attention.

“Alright everyone!” As I shout, all the customers’ eyes fall on me. I hear Tia uttering an “Oh my God, what are yo-...” but she can’t finish it.

“If everyone will form a line,” as I slowly talk, my eyes desperately dart around the bar counter until I find Tia’s pen and notepad. I grab it and flip to a new page, “We’ll get this show on the road!”

“I’ll take a uhh… dirty harry,” the first guy sitting at the bar states. He’s a jock type, even sporting a letterman jacket with a bold number 1 on the sleeve. As he sits down, the cheery girl next to him chimes in, “And I’ll have a… vesper martini, shaken please!”

As the other customers at the bar give me their orders, my hand is already jotting them down. Tia arises next to me. She’s already started on the beverages, but I can tell by her face she’s pissed.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tia whispers, leaning over to me. Her voice is filled with anger, but I ignore it. Despite the seemingly negative reaction to my assisting, Tia actually seems a bit relaxed now. Her movements look much calmer as she focuses on the drinks instead of multi-tasking.

Once we finished with the people at the bar, I moved on to the tables. There are three customers at one table, with two at another. After giving Tia the orders, I turn my sights to the table of Cloaks. There’s two sitting there. A couple cuddled up together.

I take a deep breath, before approaching them.

Maybe it won't be as bad as I thought.