Chapter Twenty-Nine: Drinks Are On Me

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That same evening, Rachel felt herself grow tired and depressed. The excitement from meeting her mother had all been drained out of her and now she felt miserable. Her only solution to comfort was alcohol - the only issue was that she and Clark were underage but Rachel still had their forged ID's for them to bypass the system.

Without even needing to read her body language, Clark could tell that his girlfriend was feeling moody. Even by observing her walk style, Clark assumed how impatient she was in getting to the nearest bar and consume alcohol to quench the pain inside. The thought then crossed Clark's mind about Rachel's feelings towards her father that would further impact her to chug more alcohol down her throat. He made sure to keep a close eye on her when they went out; once she was determined for something, she would stop at nothing until she had it.

Reluctantly, Clark followed his girlfriend from the lighthouse back into town. The long walk took a toll on them, given that they walked two kilometres to the nearest bar. Neither said a word to one another as they made their way down a road towards a bar of Rachel's preference.

"Wait, Rach. We're not allowed in there." Clark warned. He grabbed the brunette's hand, preventing her from entering the establishment.

Crossly, Rachel spun around and glared harshly at her male companion.

"Do I look like I give a shit?! I'm not going to let anybody tell me what to do, Clark." Rachel snapped before she composed herself and spoke to him more calmly with less aggression, knowing that it would hurt his feelings if she belittled him further. "Besides, we've got fake ID's. Don't be such a killjoy, Clark. Live a little."

From her pocket, Rachel produced her wallet in which she pulled out two fake ID's forged for such occasions such as that. A smile tugged on the corner of her natural, red lips as she waggled the cards between her fingers and offered Clark's one to him.

"What do you say, Price?"

Normally, Clark would have hesitated in making a decision like that, but since it regarded Rachel Amber, Clark showed no hesitation whatsoever.

"Wherever you go, I'll follow." Clark answered with conviction.

Hearing his response made Rachel's heart flutter. He then plucked his card from her fingers and escorted her inside the bar.

The establishment was bustling with regulars and simple customers alike; loud music blared with tedious country music. People in their forties and older were scattered across the bar at tables or at the bar. Nobody took notice of the newcomers that entered the bar until they started to make their way towards the bar. Rachel paid no mind to the glares of those staring at her and her boyfriend as they approached the bar just when two patrons vacated their spots. The bartender, a woman in her late thirties, drew her attention onto her new customers and demanded for some identification before she could serve them.

"I need to see some ID." The barwoman demanded sternly.

Rachel and Clark handed the woman their forged ID's and sat by, filled with nerves at how the barwoman would react. The older woman observed the cards very intricately in order to see if she could make out any flaws in the forgery of the ID's.

To Clark's and Rachel's relief, the barwoman bought it.

"Alright. It checks out. Now, what can I get you?"

"We'll both have a Budweiser." Rachel requested.

The barwoman nodded her head and removed herself from their company to bring them their drinks. It didn't help that people were staring at them as if they were willing to rebuke them instead of report them to the authorities for the suspicion of the establishment housing underage drinkers. If Rachel allowed her emotions to get the better of her, this would end catastrophically inside that bar.

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