Athenrys prompted: Tris and Richards: the BFF proposal AKA confirming their friendship level
Question of the Hour
I rapped my knuckles on the bartop, silently praying that Greg would come back from MCing whatever trivia event was on the docket tonight and take over for the current, very green bartender. Anything that wasn't a beer pull took ages. The girl bubbled over to me, her hands twisting her towel into knots.
"Two boilermakers. That's a shot of whiskey and a beer," I ordered. I was worried that even that would be too complicated for her. She needed more training, poor thing. Three long, long minutes later and I was finally back at the table with Richards. The driver and I had ended up drinking together by accident several weeks back and it just morphed into a regular thing. We liked the same drinks and neither of us pushed if the other didn't feel like talking.
Richards took his drink from me, clinking the glasses together. "Now the night can actually get rolling," he cheered. I laughed and downed a good portion of the drink. Beer wasn't my favorite thing but the whiskey made it pretty good. The shot also helped dull the stress of the day, letting me actually relax with my friend.
"We're friends, right?" I blurted the thought out before it knocked around in the back of my head for the next week.
Richards cocked his head, measuring me up behind the rim of his pint glass. "You're a little scrawny, got a knack for self destruction, and are climbing the ranks like a goddamn rocket," he drawled finally. "You're exactly the kind of person I'd love to be friends with."
I grinned at that, punching him in the arm across the tiny table. "Well that's good. You're scrawny, too, you know," I retorted.
He lifted a shoulder. "Why do you think we get along so well? You're just like me, though you have horrendous taste in men. Seriously, you thought dating your trainer was a good idea?" Richards scoffed. I didn't take it to heart. His gruff attitude hid a kernel of genuine concern.
"Alright, alright," I said, waving away the topic.
The speakers hissed and cracked as Greg finally turned on the system. I peered over my shoulder in mild curiosity at the empty game board and back lit chairs marked for contestants.
"What's the thing tonight?" I asked. Rich's face broke into a wide smile.
"They call it the honeymoon game. You'll love it. Play with me?"
I eyed him. Was he crazy? I knew he was with Kyle and I was… well I wasn't with him. "What kind of game is it?" I pressed, refusing to give even the ghost of an answer. Greg was now trawling the bar looking for participants. I could hear him over the speakers.
Richards waved him over. "You have to guess what your partner would answer for the question. Come one, friend," he teased. "This is how you become besties."
The whiskey had to be the reason that I took the word "bestie" seriously in any capacity at all.
