Traci spent the short car ride to the bar filling Andy, Dov, Chloe, and Chris on the what they had missed at the hangar.
"Wow, you kissed Holly?"
"She kissed me, Andy."
"Not the second time," Traci adds as she maneuvers Chris's body to serve as a shield.
When Gail doesn't react, Traci takes out her phone and starts showing everybody the pictures of Gail and Holly.
"Look at you all smiling. You like her. I can totally tell." Chloe gushes the words out like she and Gail are besties.
"Christ," Gail mutters, clenching her eyes shut to block out Chloe's smiling face. As nervous as she is to walk into the bar where Holly and her teammates and fans would be, the bar they were at the door of right this second, Gail's buzz was dying and there was an inversely proportional relationship between her drunkenness and her ability to tolerate her friends. She needs booze stat.
There was also the slightest chance that a tiny sliver of her nervousness was actually excitement about seeing Holly.
"Holy shit, Gail. Do you think your girlfriend can introduce me around?" Chris asks, scanning the room they had just entered.
"Aw, Chris. If you had worn your white jeans you wouldn't need my fake girlfriend's help. What were you saying earlier? You gotta get back on that horse? There are plenty of guys here who look like they would have ponied up for a little bareback."
She winks at him as he grimaces at the memory of the white jeans.
Actually Chris can probably bag a boy here even without the aid of his pale nut cutters. This place is teeming with people who look like they are definitely down for a good time in whatever form it offers itself. They look adventurous and rowdy. There is a definitely diversity and energy in this room that the places Gail and her friends frequent lack. Standing by the door looking around like they are actually makes Gail feel self-conscious and sadly mundane. Thank goodness a liquid remedy to this hiccup of a feeling seems to be flowing in mass quantities just a few strides away.
Without a word to her friends Gail starts to make her way to the bar. The journey itself starts to ease her feelings of inadequacy as she feels herself being the object of observation, rather than the subject. Clearly she attracts the bartender' attention as well because, despite the people gathered there before her, he makes his way to the small space Gail has commandeered.
"Two tequila shots."
Reestablishing the cool that is Gail Peck, she meets the icy stares of the patrons she has unintentionally bypassed with a look of smug confidence. Most people look away after a short while, but some men, and one women actually smile and wink after holding eye-contact momentarily. There is, however, one particularly angry looking woman now taking a step toward Gail with a look that conveys to Gail that she is about to be the recipient of an unsolicited piece of mind. The woman's progress is abruptly halted, though, as Holly slides in next to Gail, snuggly owning the space the woman was most likely destined for.
"It looks like I am not the only thing my new girlfriend intends to dominate," Holly says glancing sidelong at the bartender offering Gail her tequila and then turning her head to look at Angry Woman #1 who quickly veers off course when she sees Holly.
"Hey Jeff." The bartender leans over the bar towards Holly. "This is Gail. Gail, Jeff."
The bartender smiles a cocky, hopeful smile.
"The pleasure is all mine, Gail."
"It certainly is."
Holly laughs and drapes her arm over Gail's shoulders.
"Jeff, not only is Gail too beautiful for you, she is also too taken. Tell him, Babe." Holly looks over at Gail, and gestures to Jeff with her head. "Go ahead, tell him your mine."
"Wait, she's your girlfriend?"
Holly spins around, clearly surprised. A tiny teammate comes into Gail's sight as Holly's position shifts.
"Holy Holly, Doctor Magic Sauce. You are totally deep sixing my bet in the 'When Will Holly Bash Gash' pool."
"Nice. Real subtle, Amanda." As difficult as it is, Holly's golden skin has flushed red.
"Amanda Blower, this is Gail." Holly shakes her head in disbelief as she introduces the brazen skater who has rendered her temporarily pink.
"Answer the question Humpabitch. Is she your main squeeze?"
"Gail!"
Now, it's Gail's turn to spin around.
"Fuck."
King What's-His-Nuts actually waves at her as he approaches. In a bar. He waves. Traci, who has led him over, looks very self-satisfied.
Of all the clusterfucks that peppered the timeline of Gail's life, this was easily the most bizarre. Watching Chris, Chloe, and Dov round out the group that had formed in the proximity of Holly and her seals the deal; everyone who may possibly have any interest in this particular scenario is right fucking here. Gail leans over next to Holly's ear without taking her eye off the crowd.
"We're in a tight spot here, Holly."
"That's what she said."
Now Gail turns to look at her.
"Nicely played Holly. Fitting even. But 'she' is me and I prefer to have personal confirmation before making such declarations."
The eye contact between them is intimate even in the midst of this shitshow. Gail wonders how this can be. How can someone she doesn't even know make her indifferent to the frustration of everything that is happening, everything that would normally gnaw away at her last nerve? And yet she can't pull her eyes away from Holly, who reciprocates the look that only the two of them exist. Unfortunately, it isn't the truth, and Amanda isn't done with her inquisition.
"So, Gail, how is my wife treating you?"
Gail looks back and forth between Holly and Amanda trying to be cool while figuring out what Amanda just said. She finally decides that a drink might help. Taking the two tequila shots off the bar, she offers one to Holly, clinking their glasses together in unspoken solidarity before downing the ounce and a half of liquid 'fuck it'.
"Amanda is my derby wife." Holly offers knowing it doesn't mean a thing to Gail.
"You guys haven't been together long at all, have you?" Amanda asks amused.
"I should hope not, Gail only broke up with me a month and a half ago." Traci pipes in adding a new layer to the public spectacle.
She wants to play? Fine, we'll play. Gail kicks into full asshole mode.
"We were fading for months and you know it, Trace." Gail feigns sadness. "Besides, you should feel happy. Chris," she points to him "was right there to pick up the pieces of your heart."
"Shit." A guy in the back visually deflates as Chris is made unavailable by Gail's proclamation.
"Gail and Chris actually used to date a couple of years ago," Chloe chimes in to fuel this shitstorm of a story.
"That was before, Princess Buttercup here," Gail points at a brightly smiling Chloe, "lured him into a threesome with Dov." She points to him so that everyone can put a face to the name, hopefully keeping the discomfort of the lie rippling all night long.
"Yesssss." Chris's previously defeated man fan springs back to life with the revelation that the manly cop has shared a bed with another, less manly, man.
Chloe, on the other hand, reacts like a grade school girl whose classmate has just told her that the Easter Bunny isn't real. At first her face radiates pure shock and betrayal, shortly after followed by a not entirely successful attempt to cover the initial honest reaction with indifference. Surprisingly though, in just a few more seconds, Chloe morphs from fake indifference to legitimate giddiness at the fake level of awesomeness she feels Gail's story has elevated her to.
Boo. Not Gail's intent.
"How are you guys still even friends?" one of Holly's teammates rightly inquires.
Finally, an easy question.
"We aren't. I think it helps that we never really were to begin with. We just kind of hang out so we can feel good about ourselves, you know, " she gestures around the circle where her friends are, " in comparison."
A voice breaks through the "ooos" and "oohhs" and laughter Gail's frank admission has produced.
"Hey everyone, Officer McNally here is thinking about joining the Stunts."
Andy, who is talking to a couple of Holly's teammates off to the side, waves into the sea of hoots and hollers. The volume fades to bearable as Holly's team flocks over to Andy to sing the praises of roller derby.
"Wow, that spiraled out of control fast," Gail states matter-of-factly.
They both laugh at how simply Gail understates the absurdity that just played out.
When they regain composure, a heavy silence drops around them. Once again they find themselves taking each other in. It isn't the casual up and down glance or hidden check-out that occurs to each of them frequently. Their eyes meet, and hold, and then drop to each others lips before they ascend once more.
Finally, Holly takes Gail's hand.
Gail can't remember the last time she has held a female's hand. Grade school, maybe. Whenever it was, it didn't feel like this. Holly's fingers were long, and slender. They were warm and soft. They slid easily between Gail's.
"Come on, while they're distracted. Let's talk."