I shake my head. “I can't do that,” I protest. “My father told me I need to keep it open in case one of our clients calls. It’s… important.”
Her brow arches, proof enough of her point. Another rule I’m following that isn’t mine. When I don’t answer, she exhales hard and flicks her hand through the air. “So what—you’re just going to let people torture you, day after day?”
“It’s not torture.” My voice is flat and defensive.
“Right,” Jenni says, leaning back with her arms crossed. “I guess Martyrdom is a lifestyle choice now.”
“I’m not a martyr.”
“Sure.” She studies me, then suddenly straightens, her expression lighting up. “You know what? Drinks.”
I blink at her. “What?”
“Drinks,” she repeats. “Tonight. Right now. Oh, it’s the perfect idea.”
“Jenni, have you lost it?” I shake my head. “It’s Sunday night. I have so much work to catch up on, and I'm exhausted—”
“Exactly!” She cuts me off, leaning forward excitedly. “You're exhausted because you never do anything fun. It's the weekend, Honey. You're in college. Let's go.”
“I can't just—”
“Why not?” she challenges. “What's the worst that could happen? You have one drink, laugh a little, remember what it feels like to be a normal twenty-year-old?”
I stare at her for a second. “I have responsibilities. Work to catch up on. I can’t just drop everything and—”
“And what? Live a little?” Jenni reaches over and shakes my shoulders, making me laugh a little. “This is exactly what I'm talking about. You're so busy being the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the perfect intern that you've forgotten how to just be… you.”
The words sting because they're not entirely wrong. When was the last time I did something spontaneous? Something just for me?
“I don't know,” I say hesitantly.
“We don't have to go to the Hail Mary,” Jenni continues, sensing my wavering resolve. “We can go somewhere quieter. Just the two of us. No crowds, no drama. Just drinks and girl talk.”
“I really should study,” I say weakly, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice. I have to admit the offer is tempting. The thought of getting out of my head, away from case files and anonymous messages and the constant pressure to be perfect… it sounds almost revolutionary.
Jenni grins, knowing she's won, and takes my hand. “Come on. The books will still be there tomorrow. But tonight? Tonight we're going to remind you what fun feels like.”
“Cheers!” Jenni lifts her drink, and I tap mine against it with a soft clink.
“Thanks for dragging me out,” I admit, taking another sip of my whiskey, my third of the night, and sinking into the worn leather seat. “It’s been… nice.”
“Nice?” Jenni arches a brow, smirking into her own glass. “You sound surprised.”
“Maybe I am.” I take in our quiet surroundings, content for what feels like the first time since I got here. The Holy Oak isn’t like the Hail Mary. It’s quieter, more intimate. There are no whispers here. The handful of customers sitting in mismatchedchairs around vintage tables are mostly graduate students who aren’t even looking at me.
It’s exactly what I needed.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been out and felt so anonymous.”
Jenni hums but says nothing.
I laugh under my breath and shake my head. “I sound pathetic and arrogant.”
“Only a little,” she teases, grinning. “Is he back yet?”
“Should be arriving on campus soon.” I swirl the liquid in my glass, watching the amber cling to the sides. “I see him all the time, but sometimes it feels like we’re living completely separate lives, you know?” I admit.
Jenni reaches over and touches my arm. “I think that’s what happens when you date someone like Zach,” she says, her mouth curving into a small smile. “He walks into a room, and every head turns. It must be… exhausting, trying to keep up with someone like that. Especially someone like you who just wants to blend in.”