We find her. We find her at the bar. You can’t really sit at this bar you just stand there and order drinks which come in a plastic cup then you take those drinks to your table, or the rail around the bar, or you drink them there. Ashley was drinking hers there.
“Where’s Penelope?”
“Hey, Matthew; how’s it going!! My brother!” That’s Jablonski. He’s behind the bar. Jablonski has slept with more women than god. I swear. It’s because he’s the bartender. He’s slept with like three hundred.
Or four hundred. When he tells me I always forget the number cause it’s so big.
“What’s up, man?”
“Brit was looking for you.”
“Brit?”
“Yeah, she told me to tell you something about her cunt.”
Ash raises her eyebrow at me. I don’t even look to see Jules’ reaction.
“Whatcha drinkin?”
“I’m not.”
Jablonski already has the bottle in his hand. Firewater. That’s what I always drink here.
“No, really; I’m not drinking. Just. Save it. Don’t waste it!”
He’s already pouring.
“Pour me a small one, if you’re pouring one. Make one for her too.”
“Ash, do you want something?”
“I’ve got something.”
“A tiny one. A teenie tiny little—that’s!—enough. Can you make it two?”
Jablonski has one for himself and the four of us drink together. Jablonski’s looking at Jules and I’m smiling back at him as we drink our drinks and we never break eye contact. That’s how me and Jablonski do it. We never break eye contact with a toast. It gives you bad luck for life. We’re smiling at each other and Ash and Jules are smiling awkwardly and I’m looking at Jablonski like “You better not fuck her” and Jablonski’s looking like “How do you know I already haven’t” and I’m like “I would scalp you if you did” and he’s like “I like my scalp, bro, you can have her—anyway, can’t you see I’m working on getting Ashley into the sack” and I’m like “that’s amazing, we can tag-team this situation” and he’s like “then get your ass on the dancefloor, Rome wasn’t built standing at the fucking bar at 1692!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” All of this with our eyes.
“On the house,” he says. He slaps my arm and grips it, like some Legionnaire’s handshake. I don’t know. That’s how I imagine Roman soldiers shaking hands. Then he’s back to making drinks. The bar is mobbed.
“Ash, did Penelope talk to you?”
Ash is looking at Jules, who is standing, not beside me, but almost directly behind me now.
I step sideways so I’m not blocking Jules.
Jules takes a step in the same direction; she’s behind me again.
“Ash—“
“I heard you,” she says. She and Jules are caught in some sort of wild creature standoff.
Jules is literally peeking over my shoulder, with her head right next to mine, but lower. She’s acting like a squirrel or something.
I’m grinning at Ash about this—I can’t help it, it’s so silly!
But Ash isn’t grinning with me. She doesn’t find it cute.
“Did Penelope give you any ecstasy?”
Jablonski hears this. He puts his hand over an “O” mouth like Betty Fucking Boop. For a guy that’s slept with so many women he sure does act gay. He shifts his eyes side to side.
I look at the people next to us. It’s teen wannabe punk whatever.
“Why?” I yell. “Are the cops here tonight?”
Jablonski shrugs.
Ash says “I haven’t seen Penelope.”
“Where’s your Jansport?”
“By the wall. Is she gonna help do it?”
I turn to Jules. “If she wants to.”
Jules is nodding, up and down, like a puppy.
“Ok, good,” Ash musters, “It’ll be fun.”
And then I take Jules out of there before anything bad happens. Not that anything bad would happen. But..I don’t want to press my luck with those two.