aine

“Penelope,” I mumble to myself, taking another swig from my beer.

“If you say that word one more time, I’m going to knock you off that fucking stool,” Joey says, dropping her shot glass back on the bar. Seems I’m not the only one trying to drown my sorrows, but I’m half-failing at it because this is only my second beer. Maybe I should switch to the hard stuff like Joey. She seems well on her way to not remembering the night.

I can’t ...