Free A Fighting Chance by A.J. Sand

rental and trail Drew right out of Glory, though we don’t drive very far past the city limits before she turns into the parking lot of a building in Renshaw.
    “Give me a hug!” she says when she gets out of the car, and as soon as I wrap my arms around her, I’m swimming in cal m. Not all the feelings Glory evokes are bad. She smells like Lilly Armor’s pie shop, like the cherry pie slices she used to bring home for her parents. I know I shouldn’t but I let my lips touch her shoulder, and she shivers for a moment as her body rests against mine. She runs her fingers up my back, leaving a line of heat on my spine. Then my whole body lights up, and I hold her longer than I should, but Drew was my safe place once.
    “You look great, ” she says in a quivering breath, and I’m disappointed when she pulls away.
    “Thanks…so do you.” And she really does. She has gone from very pretty to absolutely gorgeous. Her legs are long and lean, and she’s still got that tiny waist but she’s got an even nicer ass now. “How you been, Hallisay?”
    “Good. How about you?”
    “Uh…good. You?” Oh, great. We’re having one of those conversations, where every question can be answered with one word. If I had to guess, I’d say Drew and I have spoken a total of twenty words to each other so far, and nothing more significant than the way I talk to my favorite barista. “Shit…you already said how you were. Sorry.” My nerves are vibrating under my skin. I blow out a breath, hoping it’ll crush my jitters. What the fuck am I, ten years old? I can’t talk to a fucking girl? But it’s not just any girl; it’s my favorite girl. Was. Was your favorite girl.
    “Yeah…I did.” She laughs nervously, shruggin g. “It’s okay. This is super weird. Er, happy belated birthday.” She lifts her guitar case out of the trunk.
    “Thanks, I got your message…thanks. Um, thanks…” And now, in person, as I trip all over my tongue, I look like the biggest asshole for never answering.
    “Hey, Drew!” A tall, thin woman with cascading blonde hair steps out of Tickles in cutoffs and a low cut tank top, dragging a medium-sized rolling suitcase behind her. “Aw, I hate when I miss your shift. Anna’s here. She’s in one of her moods and annoying the other girls.”
    “I’ll take care of it,” Drew says. “Get home safe, okay?” She waves as the blonde nods and hurries to her car.
    “You work here?” I ask.
    “Are you judging me?” I see the fire I know in her eyes. It turns me on a little.
    “No, I just thought you’d…nothing.”
    “I manage the place. Job market is pretty merciless right now, so after I graduated I came back home. It’s not my only job but it’s my favorite one. Joe almost didn’t hire me because he was afraid my dad would deny him service at the clinic if I got on the pole. I’ve only been on there a few times before we open.” She giggles and holds the door for me, letting loud rock music waft out.
    Calling Tickles rundown would be an insult to rickety shacks. It’s dark and my sneakers stick to the floor with every step. Drew shakes down her ponytail and undoes two buttons on her top so that a hint of cleavage is showing. I discover then that there are things I’m more interested in than tits—like the ring on her finger and who put it there. Now that I know about it, I can’t stop staring. I have no claim over her, but I do feel nostalgic all of a sudden as my heart squeezes. Drew was my first love, so knowing that someone else is going to make her their last, shows how much things have really changed.
    “You’re done with school already?”
    “Yup. All those AP courses I took in high school. Anyway, I gotta work.” She points at the stage, where a brunette woman is twirling upside down on the pole for a group of bored-looking men. “Henry’s up front, probably. Let’s talk later. I’m here till two a.m.”
    “Wait…I want to ask you something…” My mind is still on her