Free On the Rocks by Erin Duffy

January, and I realized that if I had to start looking for a new job, it was time to leave New York. I grew up in Providence and decided to move back to New England. I’ve been coming to Newport since I was a kid. My parents have owned their house here forever, so it worked out okay for me. I don’t have a job, but I also don’t have to pay rent, and I get to relax here for the summer.”
    “So you’re living with your parents?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “Except I think you just did.”
    “I said I’m living in my parents’ house. They retired and moved to Florida. They kept the cottage here for when they come back, but they spend most of their time playing golf and eating oranges down south.”
    “Ahh, I see.”
    “Yes, but thank you for pointing out that I probably shouldn’t lead with that in conversation. Being thirty-three, unemployed, and living with my parents probably isn’t what the babes are looking for in a guy,” he mused.
    “Probably not, no.”
    “So what are you looking for, kindergarten teacher? A guy who clears five feet and doesn’t sleep with a night-light?”
    Before I could respond, a tall blond guy who I had spotted working the crowd earlier for what I assumed was the goal of finding the drunkest girl to separate from the herd, take home, and ultimately destroy, accidentally bumped my arm, causing my beer to slosh all over my wrist.
    “Hey, sorry about that,” he said.
    “Not a problem,” I replied. And it wasn’t. My watch was waterproof.
    “Why don’t you let me buy you another one?” He leaned over the bar and waved his arm in the air trying to get the bartender’s attention. The bartender was busy with other people and was able to ignore him. I didn’t have anywhere near as convenient a reason to ignore him.
    “I’m fine. Really, I don’t need another beer.” I felt the small chink that Bobby had put in my armor start to heal.
    “Okay. What do you need?” he asked, flashing a smile that he probably practiced in the bathroom mirror.
    “A stun gun apparently.” And just like that, it was back.
    “Huh?” he said, taken aback by my attitude. Little did he know, he hadn’t seen anything yet, but he was about to.
    “Look, buddy, I’m not interested, okay? I don’t want you to buy me another beer, I don’t want you to ask me if I come here often, I don’t want you to talk to me at all, so do us both a favor and find someone drunk enough to want to talk to you, because you struck out over here.”
    “What the hell is your problem?” he asked, understandably surprised at being attacked.
    “She’s off her meds, sorry about that,” Bobby interjected, in what I assumed was an attempt to defend me.
    Blond guy walked away, and Bobby stood staring at me with that same goofy grin on his face that I was beginning to think was some kind of genetic mutation. “What?” I asked. “I told you that I’m a little guarded. I didn’t feel like making small talk with that guy.”
    “You know what’s interesting? I’m kind of offended that that guy had no problem hitting on you in front of me. I mean, how did he know I wasn’t hitting on you?”
    “Maybe because I wasn’t twirling my hair around my finger or suggestively sucking on a straw or something. Isn’t that what girls do when they flirt?”
    “Not past the age of sixteen typically, no.”
    “Good to know.” I had so much to relearn. Or maybe learn for the first time. I decided to go home and order as many romantic comedies from Netflix as I could.
    “That guy completely broke the guy code. You don’t do that. I don’t think you had to destroy the poor guy, but still, he was out of line.”
    “I’m sorry, ‘the guy code’? Someone invented a code for you? I wasn’t aware of that.”
    “Yes, honor among gentlemen. You don’t go after another guy’s girl.”
    “What is that, some kind of territorial thing? Why don’t you just pee on me and get it over with?”
    “Nah, not my thing. Hey wait,