That Summer Feeling: SUMMER 4EVER [H.S.]

28. Pink in the Night

I'm standing in front of a shitty mirror in the bathroom of a dive bar, wearing nothing but a bra and dark blue jeans, wondering how the hell I got to this point.

The day started as usual as it can be given our circumstances. I woke up in the room alone, finding myself taking the entire middle of the bed and all the covers shielding me from the cold. But it wasn't the glazed donut and the hot coffee Harry went out to get us while I was snoring the late morning away or the tumble I nearly took when I was shimming into a pair of snow pants in the hotel bathroom that truly awakened me.

It was the first words Harry uttered when he walked into the room and found me hurled over the edge of the mattress, fishing for my phone from underneath the bed to shut off an alarm I don't remember setting the night before.

"Let's go out tonight."

"Hmm?" My hands finally touch the device. The alarm pierces louder into my eardrums when I hold it up to my squinting eyes, quickly tapping the snooze option.

I look up at the tall man standing in the middle of the room, a carton drink tray balanced in one hand and a small paper bag in the other. He's quietly laughing, probably at the sight of me toppling over the bed like this and close to the point of falling flat on my face.

"Let's go out tonight." He sets the items on the table and ruffles his hair after removing his pink beanie. "For drinks."

I blink at him a few times, quickly wiping the sleep from my eyes since it felt like I was still dreaming.

"We said we would," he adds when the room grows silent. "At dinner the other night?"

"Oh." My ears burn with embarrassment, sitting up on my shins watching him remove his dark green jacket. "Right, right. We did say that."

He makes a small guttural noise, breaking the short silence again and raises his brows at me expectantly.

"So is that a yes? We can do something else..."

"No," I blurt.

"No...to what?"

"No, I didn't mean— I meant yes. Yes, let's go," the words fell so easily out of my lips once I realize I didn't give him a straightforward answer followed by a nervous chuckle. "Where to? The bar downstairs?"

He shakes his head, his smile broadening. "A real bar. We'll leave around 7?"

"Okay."

"Okay." He turns on his feet to go to the bathroom after he informs me that my breakfast was sitting in that brown paper bag.

Why would I ever want to willingly leave this room if this is what my mornings consist of?

We spent nearly five hours in the snow, sliding down on the giant inflatable tubes, spending time in nature, and watching people ski down the mountain to pass the time before seven o'clock came around. It was a fun but really tiring day, my limbs were still not fully thawed and ached if I move too fast, but I didn't mind because I was too excited to go out tonight and spend more time with Harry.

There's a bar two blocks from the lodge that I didn't bother remembering the name of. We took the shuttle bus the hotel offers down the mountain and walked the rest, bundled up and laughing to ourselves nearly the whole way here. It seemed like both of us have been deprived of a real cocktail, ordering a surprise one for each other as soon as we sat down.

It was a weekday so there weren't as many people in here as I assumed there'd be, especially people that looked our age. Harry told me this was the only decent bar in this town and there isn't another until the next town forty minutes over.