Root was on her sixth or seventh gimlet. The pain that had driven her to the area had gradually gone from a searing grief to a dull ache as the alcohol gave some measure of relief from her agony. She knew she had to move on, but was having trouble remembering exactly what it was she was moving on from.
As she drained the gimlet and slammed the glass down hard enough to cause the others in her area to start, she noticed a tall, willowy blonde eyeing her. Recognizing the look, Root smirked and winked. The blonde approached and said, "I'm Stevie, what's your name?"
"Root. But names aren't what I'm interested in." She leaned into the blonde's space and leered.
Surprised at how forward Root was, the blonde recovered and asked, "Do you want to get out of here?"
Root, in a fog, wasn't sure what she wanted. She finally tilted her head toward the ladies room.
"Why leave?"
The blonde, Stevie, looked surprised. "Right here? Right now?"
"No time like the present, sweetie." As she said the words, something rang hollow, but she headed toward the ladies room. As they approached the door and entered, Root noticed all the stalls were occupied. She turned to the blonde (Stevie) and opened her mouth to suggest they actually should get out of there.
The words never left her mouth. The blonde's (Stevie's) lips crushed into hers with a fury. Taken by surprise, she hesitated, then returned the kiss with growing enthusiasm. As it continued, and the blonde (Stevie) began to run her hand down the back of Root's jeans, she began to feel strange. It didn't seem right. Before she could break the kiss, however, she heard a familiar voice pierce the alcoholic fog, and suddenly, the blonde (Stevie) was spinning away from her.
"Bitch! Keep your hands off her. Keep your face off her. I will end you."
The blonde (Stevie) blanched at being thrown into the wall of the rest room. She looked into the tiny firecracker's eyes and decided she'd better get the hell out of Dodge and left without a word. Root, still in a fog, blinked her eyes and squinted at Shaw?
"Shaw? What the hell?"
Shaw grabbed Root by the upper arms and looked into her eyes.
"Root, we need to talk."
The sight of Shaw was like a bucket of cold water on Root. While still drunk, all the hurt and rage returned as if on steroids. She shook out of Shaw's grasp and turned away.
"What the hell do we have to talk about?"
Shaw reached for Root's wrist an spun her back toward her but Root viciously shook off her hand and looked into Shaw's eyes angrily.
"Why don't you go back to Tomas?"
"It was you at the club."
"Who cares, Shaw, I finally got your message⦠loud and clear. I apologize for being so dense and not getting it a long time ago. I get it now. Go to Tomas, you two deserve each other."
Root turned and walked out of the restroom leaving Shaw standing speechless.
By the time she walked out of the bathroom and returned to the bar, Root was nowhere to be found.
