128

We walked into the open entrance of a large dining hall. She led me down a few steps onto the floor, heading straight for the bar in the very center of the whole thing. A pianist played a soft melody on the piano nearby. Yes, I know, pianist. All the while, Cassandra remained courteous and polite to those 'uptight stiffs' that greeted her as she walked by. She certainly seemed to know a lot of them. I felt really out of place escorting someone who was rubbing elbows with millionaires.

She took a seat at the nearest bar stool and sighed quietly. She placed her purse on the counter while I took a seat next to her. Again, I found myself a little intimidated. I'd never drank, therefore I'd never ordered drinks before. I only remember being told to stay away from the bar as a kid, since that was always grown-up territory. The many hundreds of alcohol bottles lining the circular wall behind the bartender confused me. What do I even order? I racked my brain trying to remember the names of mainstream drinks, but all I could remember was Shirley Temple.

"Good evening, Cassandra," the bartender with a smooth voice and slicked-back hair said.

"Evening, Ron," she replied with a much more exasperated voice than before. It looked like she was finally letting her hair down. "Give me a scotch neat."

The bartender nodded and then looked over at me. His expression turned to confusion before glancing back to Cassandra.

"He's twenty-one, right?" he quietly asked. She laughed as she looked over at me.

"It's fine," she replied. "After all, he saved my bacon out there."

Ron looked surprised. "Oh, that was you that nearly got robbed out there?" Cassandra closed her eyes and nodded. "I heard the mumblings from people that went out to go look. Wow. Are you okay?"

She grinned. "I am now. Thank you, Ron."

The bartender then turned to me, awaiting my order.

"Uh," I replied before deepening my voice a little, "... I'll have ... what she's having." I cleared my throat and leaned back on the stool in an attempt to look casual. The bartender seemed more confused than anything, but then shrugged and began to pour our drinks. He handed them to us and I stared at my glass in surprise. I was actually drinking.

"Thank you," she said. He nodded to her and went to go tend to another customer. She put the glass to her lips and gazed over at me from the corner of her eyes with a grin. "You know, you don't have to look like that. Nobody's going to ask questions when you're with me." I quickly straightened my back, feeling like an idiot as I quickly grabbed my glass of scotch.

"You also don't have to look like you're in school, either," she added. I laughed and hunched over a little. She quietly laughed, taking a long sip of her drink and sighing in relief.

I pressed the lip of the glass to my own lips. The smell of the drink was unlike anything I smelled before. I quickly shook off my intimidation of the entire situation, wanting to show Cassandra that I could be as cool as she was. Well, here goes nothing.

I tipped the glass back and nearly spilled it on myself as I was under the assumption that drinking faster meant looking more adult. Within seconds I had downed the whole thing and nearly choked on the attempt, literally. I sighed, just the same as she did before coughing. Wow, that was some strong stuff.

"Thirsty, huh?" she playfully asked me, finding my antics infinitely amusing.

"You know it," I responded in a raspy voice as I placed down the empty glass. She laughed and shook her head before taking another sip of her drink.

"So," she spoke again whilst placing down her half-full glass, "tell me about you."

I coughed again to clear my throat before I could speak normally again.

"Well, I'm just going to school right now," I said before quickly adding, "er, college! Yeah, I'm, you know, getting my degree."

"I bet you're used to all those wild college parties, right?"

"Oh ... yeah! It's just, you know, this stuff is a little stronger than what I'm used to."

"Uh-huh," she replied, grinning. "And where do you live?"

"In the first building right across the street," I said with a nod, "totally on my own. I moved out of my parents' dump a while ago." She smirked before taking another sip of her drink. "So, uh, I was wondering," I said.

"Hmm?" she asked as she placed the glass down.

"Why do so many people here seem like ... they're trying to get on your good side? I thought you said they were a bunch of stiffs."

"That's because I'm the manager here," she replied with a laugh. I was surprised to hear that. "So, they try to sweet-talk me and think if they cozy up to me that I'll let them micromanage this place. That's not gonna happen. I'm not a dictator, but I'm also not going to cut someone's rent in half because they think they have an 'in' with management."

She then lifted her arms high over her head. As she stretched, I couldn't help but look up and down her body.

"So, uh... do you have a man in your life?"

Her eyes lit up with intrigue. "Ooh, getting to the personal questions already, huh?" she playfully asked. "No, I don't have anybody. I've been out of love for ... oh, three years now. The men I meet are usually just assholes. Every so often a nice guy like you comes along, but ... it just doesn't work out between us." She smiled weakly as her eyes gazed away, seeming to get lost in reflection. She then glanced over at me. "And how about you? Do you have someone you have your heart set on?"

"Well, ..." I trailed off with a slight grin, "there's this one girl..."

"Oh?" she curiously asked. "What's her name?"

"Sarah. She's really amazing. ... But, she and I aren't actually together, though. She already has a ... boyfriend."

"Oh no, you got crushed." She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I can tell you love her, though," she added, surprising me. "I saw it in your eyes the moment you said her name."

"Guess I do," I replied with a smile. "It took me a while to actually admit that to myself."

"It's okay," she softly said. "I've been there before. It takes some time to heal a broken heart, but you'll heal."

"Thanks," I replied.

She rubbed my shoulder as she gazed into my eyes with a smile. Something about the way she was looking at me made me think she was getting ideas.