Unsuspecting Dreamer

Chapter 14 Know You Better

It's Saturday, 7:26pm. I'm standing in front of my full-length mirror, trying not to look at the clock, trying not to make myself feel worse. 'Why had I agreed to this in the first place?' I am meeting Libby at the bar at 8 and I am a total mess. I can't stop comparing myself to her. I know she'll look fantastic and I'll look like I'm still in high school.

Well, this is as good as it's going to get. I grab my keys and run out the door. I am completely on edge about tonight. I have no clue what to expect.

I peer around the smokey room, panic gripping at my stomach. I don't see her. I knew this was too good to be true. I'm debating to stay or go when I am bumped into from behind.

"'scuse me," a deep voice mumbles behind me.

I turn to look, "sorry," I shift uncomfortably. A guy, who must have just flew through the door, is standing and shaking off some drops of water from the beginnings of a rain storm outside. He must have swung his guitar case a little wide, that's what hit me in the back. He moves past me and I move toward the exit.

The second before I grab the handle, the door is yanked open.

"Hi." Libby springs through the door frame as I jump back. "Sorry I'm late."

"No problem." I accept her apology and we walk in to the bar, finding a table that is mostly clean. We sit as the music ques up.

"How'd the wedding go?" I ask.

"Good- a little bit hectic, but it is always fun." She hesitates. I start to think that maybe she's a bit nervous too. We continue to make small talk but I can tell that something's off.

I risk an awkward question, cutting her off mid sentence. "Why me? You could be out with a hundred other people, but instead you are sitting in a strange bar with a weird person who you hardly know... so I was just wondering... why me?"

I know it's a lame finish, but she doesn't get up, or start laughing at me. Instead she sits for a second and looks thoughtful.

"Well, Hunter told me you'd just moved here and I thought you could use a friend."

My eyes shift to the table. My vision blurs, but I am determined not to let a tear fall. 'She asked me because she's nice- it's as simple as that.'

"Thanks."

"Also..." she goes on, "you're kind of an experiment. I mean, you are a fan of Hunter's, and I have been so afraid of the reaction I am going to get from his fans... I thought if you and I could get along, maybe there's a chance others will accept me." She flinches, as if her confession will cause me to lash out.

I don't know how anyone could hate her. I also don't know how to react to her gut-spilling speech. So I laugh; it takes only a few seconds before she joins in.

"I know, it sounds stupid." She rolls her eyes at herself.

Somewhere in our conversation the music has started, some original song by some no-name band. I talk over the music, deciding to take my cue from her if she wants to talk or listen. If she stops talking I'll stop.

"No, I get it. Fans can be a bit... fanatic."

After that, the conversation flows easily, both of us completely disarmed. By the last performance we still haven't run out of things to talk about. And if I wasn't sure before, now I am positive; Hunter and Libby are perfect for each other.

A familiar tune strikes up that stops our conversation cold. The guy who bumped into me is playing up on stage. He starts in right on cue.

🎶
"I wish the couple on the corner would just get a room
Seems like everyone around me's on their honeymoon
I'd love to take a pin to a heart-shaped balloon
Everybody's got somebody but me"
🎶