Depression Drinks

By mid-afternoon, the atmosphere in the office had become so tense that even the soft music drifting through the ceiling speakers seemed quieter than usual.

The moment lunch break arrived, I'd escaped the office before I could accidentally run into Mr. Parker again. When I returned, his door was closed, the blinds drawn shut once more.

Perfect.

I pulled out my phone and texted the only three people capable of rescuing me from this disastrous day.

Blair: Depression-drinking night. Who's in?

Jonathan replied almost instantly.

Jonathan: Just tell me where.

A few seconds later, Bia joined in.

Bia: 7:00 p.m. sharp. I'm only avoiding getting blackout drunk because Jonathan isn't strong enough to carry me.

Jonathan answered with a single message.

Jonathan: .I.

I laughed.

Finally, Claire replied.

Claire: Bar Light. And don't complain—we're not going to Seven. I'll reserve a table.

I sighed.

Bar Light was far too classy for four people whose only goal was drinking until life felt slightly less unfair.

Still...

We definitely couldn't go to Seven.

Claire's ex-boyfriend's new girlfriend worked there, and nobody wanted to spend the evening pretending not to notice the inevitable drama.

Our depression nights followed a simple tradition.

We each complained about whatever miserable thing was happening in our lives, drank far more than we should, promised never to do it again...

...then repeated the whole process a few weeks later.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully.

Every now and then, I caught myself glancing toward Mr. Parker's office, hoping to catch even the slightest movement behind the closed blinds.

Nothing.

Whenever he needed something, he called Laila instead.

Fine by me.

As everyone began packing up for the day, his office door suddenly swung open.

Mr. Parker stepped out looking just as tense as he had when he'd disappeared inside hours earlier.

"Good night."

He barely looked in our direction before stepping into the elevator.

Laila watched the doors close before sighing dramatically.

"I didn't want to be the one who put him in that mood."

I pretended not to hear her.

Was she talking about me?

Or had something happened during the day?

I preferred believing it was the second option.

By the time I reached Bar Light, I was ten minutes late.

Walking from the office sounded easy in theory.

In high heels...

Not so much.

The moment I stepped inside, a wave of heat hit me.

I slipped off my coat and made my way through the crowd of people balancing cocktails and beers until I spotted my friends squeezed around the only free table in the place.

Jonathan immediately slid over to make room.

"We started without you."

He handed me a tequila shot.

Without thinking, I knocked it back in one go.

Fire burned down my throat.

Bia passed me a lime with a grin.

"Bad day?"

Jonathan glanced at me.

I answered him with a look that clearly translated to:

Tell them and I'll make sure you never have children.

He wisely looked away.

"Don't even ask," I muttered.

"Horrible day."

Claire raised her beer.

"Join the club."

Judging by the empty shot glasses scattered across the table, she'd already had several.

"Why did I become a teacher?" she groaned. "Tiny little demons! One of them wiped paint all over my shirt today."

She pulled her cardigan aside.

Bright red and yellow handprints decorated the front of her T-shirt.

Bia burst into laughter.

"Now that's modern art."

Claire rolled her eyes.

"They're impossible. The boys are nightmares, the girls are worse, and somehow they all turn into angels the second their parents arrive."

She took another long sip.

"Honestly, teaching has made me question motherhood."

Jonathan gasped dramatically.

"So you're becoming a nun?"

We all laughed.

Claire becoming a nun would probably be the first sign of the apocalypse.

Bia raised her glass.

"If you think kids are difficult, try training grown men who think every female instructor exists just to listen to dirty jokes."

Jonathan leaned forward eagerly.

"Can I attend one of your classes?"

"No."

"Please?"

"The last time you came, you encouraged them."

"I call it boosting morale."

Claire suddenly pointed at me.

"At least Blair has the perfect solution."

Jonathan grinned.

"That's right."

Together they announced:

"Stay a virgin!"

"Oh my God..."

I buried my face in my hands.

"Keep your voices down! My coworkers come here!"

Claire slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Sorry."

Jonathan smirked.

"So..."

He raised his shot glass.

"Let's vote."

"We each explain why we're miserable."

"The weakest excuse stays sober."

He pointed at Claire.

"You first."

Claire sighed dramatically.

"Children."

She pointed at Bia.

"Men."

Jonathan tapped his own chest.

"Being single."

Then all three of them looked at me.

I smiled.

"I'm twenty-eight..."

I lifted my tequila.

"...and still a virgin."

Three synchronized eye rolls.

Jonathan groaned.

"One day you're going to run out of that excuse."

"Not today."

I clinked my glass against theirs.

"Victory."

As I celebrated my completely unfair win, Claire suddenly snapped her fingers.

"Oh!"

"I almost forgot."

"I have amazing news."

I frowned.

"What news?"

She smiled mischievously.

"You're going on a date next week."

I nearly choked on my drink.

"I'm sorry..."

"I'm doing what?"