I went to Charlottesville with five of the guys. Kemi bailed on us at the last minute, leaving me the only girl. We left around noon to get as much time to enjoy the town as possible. Once we reached the city, we hit a few sites, had some food, and then, of course, the guys wanted to start hitting the bars.

I hate being eighteen. How did I get stuck with a bunch of drinking age soldiers and me the only one who could not indulge? This sucked.

The first drink was to the soldiers we lost in Charlottesville. I had to raise a soda because the owner was keeping a hawk-eye on us. Still, it felt good to remember them, no matter how we did it. There wasn’t a dry eye in the group.

As the night progressed, things became less somber and more celebratory. It was fun watching everyone getting hammered and they were able to occasionally slip me a drink, not that it did me much good. I recovered far too quickly for any but the largest quantity of the strongest alcohol to have much effect on me. It helped me to feel like I belonged though.

As the night wore on, the guys were getting rowdier and rowdier, till Johnson suggested it would be a great idea to go to a strip club. Stone turned scarlet at the suggestion but the guys were too drunk to notice. The idea was met with a high degree of enthusiasm by the majority.

“Ahem,” I said, raising a hand. “Girl here.”

“Shit,” Johnson said, his bleary eyes focusing on me as though he had forgotten I was there. “Don’t you like titties?”

This drew a cacophony of laughter from the guys. I leaned forward, deciding to play with him, “Oh, I love… ‘titties’… I just don’t think they are going to let an eighteen-year-old girl in one of those fine establishments.”

“Aww fuck,” Johnson said. “Maybe we could sneak you in?”

“Maybe we could tell the bouncer she’s late for work,” Thompson, a particularly crass soldier suggested with blond fuzz on his scalp. Though he was older than me, he looked a bit scrawny and younger.

“Watch it, Thompson,” Stone said, “That’s a fellow soldier you’re talking about.”

I did not need Stone taking care of me, but it was nice that he wanted to.

“Don’t worry, Corporal,” I said, “I’ve got this.” I turned towards Thompson and then I said, in my most sugary voice, “There is no way any bouncer would buy for a minute that a stripper would be seen dead with you.”

“Burn!” Johnson said.

Thompson just stared at me, as though my words had not caught up with his drink addled mind. When it hit, helped no doubt by the copious laughter of his buddies, he pulled back. A storm cloud passed over his face as he mumbled something.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I said the bouncer could probably tell you were a dyke anyway.”

“Thompson!” Stone said, a vein bulging in his forehead as he slammed a fist on the table. “What did I just say?”

“Shut up man! Even I know that’s not okay,” Johnson shouted. I was a bit surprised by the outburst from the brown-haired corporal. I’d never imagined he was that socially evolved. The other guys shouted Thompson down, following Stone and Johnson’s lead.

I leaned back in my chair, drumming my fingers on the table. This had all just become un-fun. But I could not let that go. “What’s wrong with lesbians, Thompson? You intimidated by anyone who can get more pussy than you? Wouldn’t that be… everybody?”

“Delaney,” Stone said, in a firm but even voice, “Let it go. We’re here to have a good time, not fight each other.”

“He started it,” I said, folding my arms.

Johnson burst into howls at that. I didn’t think it was that funny, but then I wasn’t drunk either. “Tell you what boys,” I said, standing up, “Someone pay for my drinks and I’ll let you guys go to your strip club. I’ll catch a late movie or hit a hotel or something.”

There was a grumbling chorus of voices that tried to convince me to stay, but I remained resolute. “No, if I stay I’ll probably end up punching Thompson, so why don’t you guys run ahead without me. Call me when you are finished or something. I’ll catch up.” Charlottesville, like many large cities, had a working cell tower network. “Or I’ll be in a hotel somewhere, probably,” I rounded on Thompson, “Fucking a stripper. Unlike you. Either way doesn’t matter.”

Stone stood and tossed some money on the table. “That’ll take care of both of us,” he said.

“Where are you going?” Johnson asked.

“I’ll see Delaney off. Just text me with where you guys end up.”

“You don’t have to do that, I’m a big girl, with superpowers you know.”

He hobbled with me out of the bar. “I know you can take care of yourself. But I don’t think it’s polite that they wanted to do something that left you out. So it’s the least I can do.”

“That’s very sweet of you.”

He shrugged. “Ain’t no big deal.”

We got out on the curb and started looking for a taxi. “Where are you going to go?” he asked.

I shrugged. “A coffee shop? Maybe a night club if there are any that will allow someone my age in. I’ll ask the taxi driver for a recommendation.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said. He must have seen the reaction on my face because he quickly added, “Just till you’ve figured something out.”

“You really, really don’t have to do this. I’m fine. I can more than take care of myself. Go, have fun with the guys, I’m sure you are just as eager to go as they are.”

He shrugged. “I’ll catch up with them. It’ll probably take ‘em an hour to figure out where to go anyway.”

“You keep acting like this and people are going to say you have a crush on me,” I teased.

To my surprise, he turned away. “Naw,” he said, “It ain’t like that.” Was it the light outside the bar or was he getting red? I liked how his Southernisms came out the more flustered he became. It was cute.

“Fine,” I said, relenting, “but you have to pay for the cab.”

He bobbed his head in agreement.

A yellow taxi drove by and we flagged it down. Stone opened the door and stood aside so I could go first. I piled into the cab and slid over to make room. I struggled to find the seatbelt in the car. Once I was bolted in I turned back to Stone as he shut the door.

Only it wasn’t Stone sitting next to me.

A thin man wearing an old dress jacket over a hoodie had sat down in the seat. From beneath the hood, he said, “Drive,” in a quiet voice that brooked no argument. The taxi started forward.

I just gaped at him, and then turned and looked out the back window. Stone was standing there, unmoving, his face slack and confused, his arm held out as though he were still holding a door.

What the hell?