The Blind Date by Landish, Lauren (suggested reading .txt) 📕

Mall. But he parks at the line-up of stores that surround the mall’s parking lot. We’ve been here before too. The window fronts and door are black-out tinted, and there’s a large neon sign proclaiming Karaoke. When we don’t do Irish pubs and hoops, we’ve been known to drink too much and sing badly here.

“No. Absolutely not,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Arielle leans forward and pushes the button to release my seatbelt, telling Eli, “Just grab her again.”

My jaw drops in shock. It drops even further when Eli scoops me out of the passenger seat, back over his shoulder, and starts walking toward the door.

“Everything okay?” the lady doing check-ins at the front desk asks as we come in.

“No. They kidnapped me,” I intone flatly from my upside-down vantage point.

“Bad fight with the boyfriend,” Arielle says as if that explains everything.

“Ooh, sing some mad chick songs then. Get that fire out of your belly. You look like an Ariana Grande sort. You got one less problem without him,” the front desk lady sings the last part in perfect pitch.

“What if I’m the problem?” I ask as Eli carries me past her.

He must see Simon, Becky, and Loretta because he seems to know where he’s going. I’m not sure because I’m still upside down and the neon lights are messing with my vision. I just know I’m plopped into a booth in a small private room.

“Hey, baby,” Loretta says, scooting in next to me on one side. Arielle and Eli file in after her on my left. Becky and Simon slide in on my right. I’m trapped, which I’m guessing was their intention. “How’re you doing?”

I look at their eyes, full of worry and concern for me. I try to force my lips to lift into something resembling a smile. “I’ll be okay. Thanks for this,” I mutter, waving my hand around, vaguely gesturing to them and the karaoke club.

That’s all the sunshine I have right now, every last drop from the bottom of my well, and I wasted it on niceties.

Becky wraps her arm around my shoulder to give me a hug. “Don’t even start with that shit, Riley. You’ve been here for us through everything. From taking me to prenatal appointments to that time you got Arielle out of jail without her family learning about it. It’s our turn to take care of you now.”

“Ixnay on the ailjay!” Arielle mock complains. “Jeez, don’t you know there are microphones all over this place?”

Everyone laughs except for me. It’s not like Arielle’s a big-time fugitive or something. Just one night when a dumbass tried to get a little too fresh with the wrong girl, Arielle wasn’t going to put up with it and stepped in. There weren’t even charges pressed, but it’s definitely Arielle’s favorite bucket list check when we play ‘Never Have I Ever’ because she’s the only one of us to spend the night in jail.

“Becky’s right,” Loretta says. “You’ve been there for all of us one time or another. Now we get to be here for you. First thing you need is a drink. Second, a song.”

Loretta pushes a button on the tablet in the middle of the table to call a waitress, and she arrives quickly, introducing herself as Maylee before taking our drink orders.

In minutes, I have a large frozen cocktail in front of me. I have no idea what’s in it, but Maylee took one look at me, made sure I had a designated driver, and said she knew just the thing. It tastes like pineapple, but I suspect that’s hiding a heavy-handed dose of alcohol.

I take another sip, wishing it’d kick in already. I could use a little numbness, a little forgetting.

I keep seeing Noah’s face—the hurt, the confusion, and the anger. I take another sip of my drink.

“Who’s up first?” Arielle asks before pulling a die out of her purse. We had it custom made when the Crew was eight people and one of the members, Nikki, worked at the comic book and gaming shop. The special eight-sided die has a set of initials engraved on each side, and as the membership’s changed and dwindled, we’ve blacked out two of the spots.

Arielle tosses the die onto the table, and everyone watches as it tumbles, stopping on ET . . . Eli Taylor.

“Well, now, I guess I’m going to have to flex a little for y’all,” Eli says, picking up one of the microphones. He checks the computer quickly, and in moments, one of his standards starts playing.

It’s Always A Good Time is one of Eli’s best songs, mainly because he’s able to sing both parts with an almost eerie ability to replicate Carly Rae Jepsen’s voice. His Owl City needs work, but that’s because he can’t seem to keep the twang out of his voice when he’s singing the male part.

Normally, he’d get everyone bouncing and happy, singing along to the whoa-oh-oh parts with him, but tonight, I’m not feeling it, and everyone’s watching me to make sure I’m not going to burst into tears again.

“Good try, Eli, but I think we need something with a little more edge to it,” Arielle says as she plucks the microphone from his hand, skipping the die rolling. “My turn.”

Seconds later, Arielle’s transformed herself into full-on angry Pink as she sings U + Ur Hand. The angry girl anthem has Loretta and Becky singing along and Eli making obscene hand gestures. Loretta bumps into me, timing the bumps with the music so that it’s almost forcing me to dance along. It’s movement, at least, and I try to get into it. Arielle leans over the table, holding the microphone out to me. Automatically, I sing into it, “It’s just you and your hand tonight . . .” Becky and Loretta lean in, providing back-up vocals to strengthen my weak attempt. But it feels good.

The song ends, and Eli holds up his hand, joking, “Works for me every time. Efficient, feels good, and never a doubt of a happy ending.”

Arielle,