It was almost last call.
Andrew was sitting at his usual spot by the counter, chatting with the bartender whenever he had the time.
Jean had found her way to the bar for the past couple of weeks. Every minute when she wasn’t needed at her mothers she could be found there.
The regulars had greeted her with open arms. They were always happy to meet new people who wanted to listen when they told stories about their lives. True and untrue.
She usually walked over to Andrew once she had enough of them. He was always happy to talk.
This night, however, Andrew was one of the first ones to leave.
Jean noticed how he sneaked into the back room heading towards his apartment on the second floor of the building.
She wanted to know what had happened. Andrew was always the first one there and the last one to leave. Something must have happened, she thought though she didn’t know if she dared follow him.
They had been through this once before during high school. It had not ended well.
Soon she forgot all about it as she cheered with the other men and women who occupied the bar until the wee hours on a Monday.
She wanted to ask why Andrew was never sitting with them. They seemed like the kind of company he would enjoy and yet she had never seen him speaking to anyone, apart from herself and the bartender who always greeted him with a smile and open ears.
She figured she could ask the bartender. He could always be trusted to keep his mouth closed. These people she was sitting with could not.
Last call went out and everyone rushed over to the counter to get their final orders in.
Not Jean. She picked up her coat from her chair and walked out to door into the cold winter night. Eager to find out more about Andrew.
It would have to wait until tomorrow.