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“To Jackson,” Lucy said, holding up her shot glass of tequila.
“To Jackson,” Nolan replied, clinking his own shot of whisky against it.
In unison, they gulped their shots and set their glasses down on the table of their booth. Their annual celebration of their graduation from the academy had taken on an additional duty ever since Jackson died. It would always be tinged with melancholy in a way that they both knew Jackson would not approve of. They could hear him nagging them to stop. Tonight is about fun. This used to be our party, just for the three of us. The Three Musketeers! Of Shots! Who does sad shots? You do not want to be the person doing sad shots.
That was part of the appeal of getting sad: annoying Jackson’s ghost into making an appearance to yell at them for doing their party wrong. It was Lucy and Nolan’s way of making sure he was there.
“I will go get us another round,” Lucy said. She patted Nolan’s shoulder sympathetically. “Same as before?” John nodded, and she rose and went to get their drinks. While she was waiting, Jackson warned her, Hangovers from sad drinking are worse than hangovers from happy drinking. It’s just science.
Nolan was staring into space when Lucy returned. “It’s funny,” he said as she sat down and startled him back into reality, “to think that we used to date. Isn’t it?”
Lucy nodded. “It is weird, isn’t it?” She passed him his shot, they clinked and downed their drinks. “I mean, sometimes I think about how we used to have sex, and they’re good memories, you know? But when I-“ Lucy was cut off when a patron leaving the booth behind them collided with another patron, sending both mens’ drinks tumbling to the floor. She kept an ear open for trouble but made a conscious effort not to look at the accident, to give the men their drunken dignity while they sorted it out.
“Anyway, as I was saying, it’s weird how those can be good memories, but the idea of having sex with you now is borderline repulsive. It’s like you’re my brother now.”
“YES!” Nolan shouted, his enthusiasm untethered by a regrettable combination of whisky and gin. “Exactly! It is so weird how you are my sister now, but not my sister retroactively. I’m not grossed out by the memory of it, but the idea of doing it now, no offense, makes me a little queasy.”
“Holy shit, that’s it. We’re non-retroactive family!” Lucy yelled happily, sliding around to John’s side of the booth and slinging her arm around his shoulders. “See Jackson? Sometimes being sad at a party is a good thing!”
“Yeah, suck it Jackson! Sad drunk can be fun drunk. We’re going to prove you wrong about that every year, brother.” Nolan said, putting his own arm around Lucy and planting a kiss on the side of her forehead. Lucy sighed and snuggled happily into Nolan’s side, imagining Jackson was similarly tucked into her other side, also giving her a kiss. She missed the Nolan/Jackson drunk double head kiss. It had been staple of their Academy days.
It was nice to be so completely on the same page with someone. There was no wondering what any of this meant. No dance. No yo-yo of hope and heartbreak. Lucy and John had crossed that line and both decided they wanted to go back to their own respective sides. Now the person on the other side of that line was a sibling, and crossing it again was inconceivable. In so many ways they were closer because they knew the answer was no.
She wanted that certainty with someone else in her life. She just wasn’t willing to buy it with a definitive ‘no’ yet. And… she was going for sad drunk, but not that sad.
“You are so much better than a smelly old turtle,” Lucy said, changing the subject of her own thoughts. She squeezed Nolan’s shoulders and rested her head in the crook of his neck, making herself focus on how nice it was to have a brother who wasn’t a blood relation, but also wasn’t a malodorous reptile.
“Thank you?” He squeezed back. “You are also nicer than a smelly old turtle,” he said, repeating her words like a parent trying to use slang they didn’t understand.
Nolan tapped the hand he had wrapped around her shoulder in time to music for a few moments, just long enough to lull Lucy, then he jolted up from his seat without warning.
“Hey!” Lucy protested as she tipped to the side, barely catching herself before she fell completely over.
“We’ve reached cuddle stage. That means it’s time for water,” Nolan told her. “You parked somewhere safe to leave your car overnight, right? Because we are sharing an Uber home.” He pulled his phone out and began tapping. “Bailey says she can pick me up from your place.”
“I took an Uber here. This ain’t my first rodeo, pard’ner,” Lucy said, clucking her tongue as she fired a finger gun at him. “Okay, yeah, I heard that. Time for water.”
Nolan nodded and disappeared in search of hydration.
Lucy tried to sit up straighter to look less drunk than she felt when an olive green henley with a large wet patch running down the middle suddenly filled her vision. She let out a small yelp of surprise. The henley receded and Tim sat down across from her.
“What are you doing?” he demanded in a low bark.
Lucy went hot with embarrassment, then anger. “What do you mean, what am I doing? I am out having drinks with my friend.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“No, I really don’t. You’re going to have to say exactly what you mean.” At least the anger was starting to wake her up.
“Get up. I’m taking you home.”
“Excuse me? No. I’m fine. Nolan and I are going to share an Uber home.” Lucy glared at Tim. “I don’t understand what you’re doing here, sir.”
Tim stiffened at the invocation of his rank. “He is your coworker. He has a live-in girlfriend. I’m…” He paused, reconsidering his tactics, and lowered his voice. “I apologize for framing that as an order. It was a suggestion, in the best interests of your professional future.”
Lucy stared at him open-mouthed for a moment before standing up from the booth. She gave Tim a black look. “You… are unbelievable.”
Nolan returned with their waters, pausing when he saw Tim in the booth and Lucy standing, looking at Tim like she either wanted to cry or slap him. “Everything okay here?” he asked as he approached.
“I don’t know, Nolan. Is everything okay?” Tim asked in the same tone he’d use to ask a troublesome felon if they intended to keep resisting.
“Tim. Stop.” Lucy gritted out between her clenched teeth.
“I don’t know what you think is going on, but-“ Nolan began.
“John, I do not need you to defend me here,” Lucy cut him off. To Nolan’s credit, he immediately shut up. “If Tim ever wants to talk to me about this,” Lucy continued, making direct eye contact with Tim but continuing to speak as if to Nolan, “he knows where to find me. We settled up, John?”
“All settled,” Nolan affirmed. Tim glowered at them both but didn’t say anything.
“Excellent. Our car is almost here.” She held up her water for The Water Toast. Always their final toast. “To you, me, and Jackson: Best Rookie Class Ever.”
“You, me, and Jackson: Best Rookie Class Ever,” Nolan repeated, eyeing Tim warily as he held up his own water.
And to no hangovers! You gotta end on a big glass of water. It’s science. Jackson added, clinking them both. Lucy and Nolan waited a beat and dutifully drank their water, just as he would have insisted.
“I’ll text you so you know I got home safe,” Lucy told Tim, giving him one concession, as she set her empty cup down on the table. Then, giving Tim one last reproachful look, she looped her arm through Nolan’s. They went out front to find their ride. Tim picked up Lucy’s empty glass and spun it in his hands as he watched them be swallowed into the crowd, compiling a list in his head of all the things he wished he’d done differently.