“Cobwebs?”
“Right,” she says, “the rule. But you know what I mean. Just take a breath, will you? I’ll tell you what. Go over there and I’ll help you build some confidence.”
“They’re really not—”
“I’m not saying you have to marry any of them,” she says. “Just sit on the stool, drink whatever they buy you—I know you worry about roofies, but I promise, I’ll watch all your drinks, okay? Besides,” she says as she’s walking away, “something happens and we’re going over to your place.”
“What?”
She’s already back at the bar.
In response to something Annabeth is telling them, one of the men gives up his seat and motions for me to take it. Timidly, I walk over and sit down.
“All right,” Annabeth says, “who wants to buy this beautiful woman a vodka?”
My stomach churns.
“Not vodka,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes. I’ve been getting that a lot lately.
“Fine, who wants to buy this beautiful woman a shot of bourbon?”
Rick raises his hand like he’s in junior high.
Maybe these guys aren’t so scary after all. Maybe they’re just idiots.
That’s better somehow, right?
“All right,” Annabeth continues, “so Rick, what do you think of my friend here?”
He blushes and looks away.
Yep. Not scary: idiot.
“I don’t know,” he says.
“Go on,” Annabeth says. “Tell her what you like about her.”
“Well,” he says, “she’s got—”
“Don’t tell me, tell her,” Annabeth interrupts.
This has to be the most uncomfortable mome
nt of my life.
“You’re very pretty,” he says. “You’re tall, but not too tall. I like the way your hair catches the light.”
His friends are laughing at him, but this isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
“Okay, you three,” Annabeth says, pointing to everyone but Rick and I, “you’re coming with me.”
“I don’t—” I start, but Annabeth puts a finger to my bottom lip.
“You’ll be fine,” she says. “I’ll be right over there.”
She doesn’t indicate where “there” is, but I suppose I’ll live.