Three people walked into a bar. They used to be friends. What happened next nobody will ever understand. Let’s just say that a fourth person was involved. Fact is that nothing will ever be the same again.
Bar-hopping with his fiancé and her best friend was not how Ryan had planned to spend his Saturday night, especially when the game was on. He needed his boy Steph to pull through with the win. He was sick of LeBron and his self-entitlement. History still hasn’t taught him that he can’t win a championship by himself.
Ryan dropped a crumpled five into the tip jar as the bartender slid him a Yuengling. Next to him, Adrianna and Heather shared a stool and shouted at each other over the heavy metal rock music and the people surrounding the bar. Ryan chose to ignore them. Petty female shit, he thought to himself, best to stay out of it. He turned up the bottle, finishing the rest of his beer and holding back a burp.
“Babe, isn’t that your friend Johnny over there playing pool?” Adrianna asked tapping his shoulder.
“You didn’t even look,” she whined in that high-pitched, dog-whistle voice that he would have to get used to if he was going to go through with this marriage.
He looked over his shoulder to the right of the bar. Leaning on a pool stick with his arm around the waist of a blonde with a thick ass was his boy Johnny in a black and red plaid lumberjack shirt and a Bulls snapback hat.
“Yea, that’s him,” he answered flatly.
“Who’s the bitch with him?” Heather asked.
“I dunno.” He caught the bartender’s eye and held up his empty bottle.
“Gotcha,” the bartender said.
“Heather’s dating Johnny,” Adrianna said.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”
“New Years!” they both said.
Ryan stared at them. No way they believed Johnny was the type to have a girlfriend, more less, mess around with the same chick for five months. Johnny was the one who had told him that proposing to Adrianna was suicide. “She’s a cute girl and all, but she’s too needy,” he’d said. “You’ll get punished every time you leave the house.” He had to admit that Johnny wasn’t exaggerating. They’d only been engaged a few months, and that space he’d cherished so much while they were dating closed almost immediately after he’d popped the question. Adrianna felt the need to invite herself to every place he went. Poker night, game day, the bar, even grocery shopping became a couple’s outing. Living together wasn’t enough. They had to be attached at the hip, forever live up to their “Best Couple” title in their high school yearbook.
“Look, me and Johnny talk almost every day, and he’s never mentioned you.” Ryan said.
“When do you talk to him?” Adrianna asked, cocking her head to the side as if jealous of Ryan spending his time with someone other than her.
“He’s fucking kissing her now!” Heather shrieked as Johnny and the blonde swapped spit, wrestling tongues. His hand slid down the small of her back and cupped her ass.
Ryan turned back to the game on the screen, taking a second Yuengling from the bartender and nodding his head in a silent thank you.
“Can you do something?” Adrianna whined.
“I’m watching the game.”
“Heather’s my friend!”
“OK, Johnny’s mine, and I know him better than you think you do.”
“So you would continue being friends with a guy you know cheats on his girlfriend?” Heather asked.
Ryan nearly choked from laughing. “I don’t know what he said to you to make you think you were his girlfriend. It was obviously some played-out line to get in your pants.”
Tears swelling in her eyes, Heather jumped off the bar stool, covering her face, and ran for the door, nearly colliding with a server carrying a plate of 50 hot wings.
“Ryan!” Adrianna shouted.
“What? That’s Johnny!”
“Then you sleep on his couch tonight!”
She stormed off after her friend, but not before taking a shot glass of vodka that one of the pool players had sat on the edge of the pool table and throwing the drink onto the blonde’s exposed back. She shattered the glass on the hardwood floor and fled through the door before security even realized there was a commotion.
Ryan returned his attention to the game. One minute left. He’d missed almost the entire fourth quarter.
“So you’re riding home with your ‘cheating’ homeboy.” The bartender leaned over the bar and gave him an obnoxious wink.
“Nah, you see that ass on her? He ain’t giving that up for me.” Ryan said, downing the rest of his drink.
“Looks like I’m calling you a cab then.”
Ryan nodded and motioned for another beer.