Page 3 of Derivation

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem.”

They didn’t talk for a moment while they waited for the check, and when the bartender returned, Sarai handed him her credit card. He swiped it right away, Sarai signed the receipt, and then, without a word, they walked back over to the booth full of Sarai’s friends.

“Hey, you two, just because Enya isn’t paying attention to you doesn’t mean the rest of the bar can’t see you fondling each other under the table.”

“What? We’re holding hands,” Violet said with a laugh.

“We’re all paid up. Does anyone want to go tear Arlowe away from whoever’s mouth she has her tongue in right now?” Sarai asked

“Not it.”

Violet raised her hand and looked at Stella.

“Not it?” Stella asked more than said.

“Not it,” Sarai added and pointed at Enya, who looked up at them.

“Huh?” Enya asked, oblivious.

“You’re on Arlowe duty. I’ll order us a car.”

“I can take you all home, Sarai,” Gabi offered again.

“Stella’s got me, so you only need those three,” Violet replied.

“That would be great. Thank you,” Enya said and then climbed out of the booth. “Arlowe, come on. We’re going home. Don’t make me get the hose.”

Gabi laughed and said, “Your friends are funny. I mean, they were back then, too, but they’re still funny.”

“Still annoying,” Sarai replied.

“We’re going home. See you all on… Monday?” Violet said.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Sarai asked.

“Or warning us?” Arlowe said when she approached the booth.

“How drunk are you right now?” Sarai asked her.

“Not very. Why?”

“Because you made out with that woman before and said she was a terrible kisser, but you’ve been attached to her face for the past half hour.”

“Practice makes perfect?” Arlowe replied.

“I guess I’ll see you all on Monday,” Violet told them. “And that’s weird…”

“No, it’s not. You’ve been living with Stella for months now and just working from the house or stopping by for dinner. We’re ready for you to leave the nest, dear Violet. So, fly, fly away,” Arlowe said, mimicking a flying bird with both of her hands, and Enya moved to stand next to her just in case.

“She’s very drunk,” Sarai said to Gabi out of the side of her mouth. “Arlowe, Enya, let’s go. Gabi is driving us home. And, Arlowe, I swear to God, you will not puke in her car.”

“I don’t puke when I’m still drunk. It’s only when I’m hungover.”

“So, I should get you all home fast, then?” Gabi replied.

“Not too fast. We should drive safely,” Enya added.