Author's Note:
That one guy in their friend group has the coolest girlfriend ever. You know, the one who cooks for everyone and buys a round of beer when they go out. Except that asshole just broke up with her...
She's A Keeper is a bit different from my usual stories that I share here. While I like posting an entire story at once, this one is not because it's not complete yet -- my Patreon members vote on what happens next in the story and once the episode is done, I'm sharing it here.
This first part doesn't have a lot of spice to it, which is why it's being posted at the same time as the next episode, but for sake of ease/organization, it's split into two parts.
This story will feature non-monogamous relationships and pairings throughout. If this isn't your particular brand of enjoyment, sit this one out maybe?
***
Evander
The only thing worse than a busy pub going dead quiet is when no one else notices the silence.
Because it's all in your head, isn't it? There's not much that truly silences a bar crowd. Hardly anything can break through the cacophonous clatter of voice and glass, heavy-bottomed pints set on worn wood tabletops and the thwacking rip of shoe soles lifting from a sticky floor.
Maybe it's a defense mechanism. An adaptation. Something humans developed over eons to protect our fragile psyches, because the last thing you need when your world changes between one sip of happy hour beer and another is a soundtrack of oblivious laughter and cheers when whatever local sports team just scored on the big screen behind the bartender.
Whatever it is, it's horrible. It's horrible to sit there with an aching heart and stunned disbelief clogging your ears, staring at a man so preoccupied with his own pint of discount draft that he hasn't realized the sound had disappeared from your world.
Not until she speaks.
"You fucker," Nola said. "You absolute shit-nosed motherfucking donglauncher."
Dane's surprise gaze tore away from the big screen. "Excuse me?"
"How dare you? How fucking dare you?!"
"What?!"
"What?" She let out a derisive scoff, like words weren't enough to convey the bubbling emotions in her chest. "You're breaking my fucking heart and all you can do is sit there and say what?!"
The silence of the bar was broken. At least five sets of eyes were on Dane and he glanced around as if that would prevent any more of the people crowding the bar from noticing the impending implosion at his table. "That was a little uncalled for. I just--"
"You're right," Nola said, glaring at him from beneath heavily applied black eyeliner that was threatening to smear from the angry tears welling in her eyes. "I shouldn't insult the proud profession of donglaunching like that, you needled-dicked hamster fister."
"Hamster fister?!"
"Fisting a hamster would be pretty evil," Kellen said, breaking the silence that had engulfed him. "Pretty sure their little anuses can't stretch that wide."
"Please never say the words 'hamster anus' again," Dane said, his face glowing red.
"I didn't. I said a hamster's anus can't stretch wide enough to accommodate you fisting one, even if you have delicate little hands like yours."
Dane's slender fingers tightened around his glass. "I don't have delicate hands."
"Care to test that?" Beau asked. "I'm happy to slam your hand in a car door a few times so you can prove how strong and manly you are."
"Violence isn't the answer," Tobin said.
"Unless the question is 'How should we react to Dane being a needle-dicked hamster fister,'" Kellen said. "In which case, 'violently' is a valid answer."
"You're violently overreacting," Dane said. "People are staring."
"You're throwing away a year-long relationship and that's what you're worried about. People staring." Nola scoffed again. "How do you sleep at night?"
"Alone, apparently," Tobin said.
"How could you?" Nola asked. "Don't we matter to you?"
"We?" Dane repeated. "What 'we' are you talking about here?"
She motioned around the table. "Us, dumbass."
"It has nothing to do with you."
"Come on, man," Beau said. "How can you say that?"
"Because Penny is my girlfriend!" Dane exclaimed. "This has nothing to do with any of you!"
Metaphorical silence filled the bar again. Kellen and Beau shared a glance that made them look identical, despite Kellen being a six-foot-two former lacrosse player with tattoos covering vast swathes of his peachy white skin and Beau being a five-foot-ten computer nerd with coiled black hair, medium brown skin, and glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
To the left of Kellen, Tobin's lights-are-on-but-only-because-the-homeowners-have-them-on-a-timer expression was replaced by an uncharacteristic anger. Even the auburn tone of his nearly-shoulder-length hair seemed dull, and patches of red appeared on his pale beige skin.
And beside him, directly across from Dane, Nola's dark-painted lips were curled into a sneer. Her black hair was shorter than Tobin's, just past her chin and pin-straight, and the slit cut into her manicured eyebrow had nearly disappeared because she was frowning so deeply.
"Was," I said, finally breaking my own silence.
I'd never been a loud speaker. Or much of a speaker in general. The reason I knew Beau and Kellen had always been nearly identical was because the three of us had known each other since kindergarten, and they'd always described me as the quiet one. Which meant when I did say something, everyone knew it was usually important. So all of them heard me, despite the thumping bass of the remixed country song blasting through the speakers and the round of shots being taken by a bachelorette party at the table next to us.
Including Dane, whose eyes darted away from Nola and towards me.
"What?" he said.
"Was," I repeated. "Penny was your girlfriend. But your dumb ass fucked things up with her."
"Okay, Mr. Poet," Dane said sarcastically. "Sorry I didn't use the grammatically correct terminology. You all knew what I meant anyway."
"Not really," Kellen said. "I still don't know what the actual fuck you were thinking."
"You guys are all dicks," Dane said.
"That's offensive," Nola said. "I'm not a guy."
He waved a hand. "You people are all dicks."
"Dane, man," Beau said. "You started this conversation by telling us you're celebrating ending things with Penny."
"And how do you know she didn't do something to deserve it?" Dane asked. "Huh? How do you know it wasn't justified? Or hell, that she was the one who broke up with me?"
It would have been a good point, except we all knew Penny. Still, societal expectations dictated that you weren't supposed to outright call someone a manipulative liar to his face, so aside from a few exchanged glances, no one responded to Dane's question.
Which, apparently, was response enough.
"Oh, fuck you guys," Dane said.
"Not a guy," Nola said again. "You know as well as we do that Penny was a goddamn treasure."
"She was," Beau agreed. "Remember how she always used to buy the first round? The very first night we met her, the first thing she did was buy us all a round."
"That's not that big a deal," Dane muttered.
"It is," Tobin said. "She insisted on it."
"You all know I am a massive fan of women in general," Nola said. "But I've spent enough time listening to all of you talk about how giddy it made you to have a woman treat you and your friends to something instead of the other way around. I mean, even though Harris and I split the bill between us most of the time, when we're out with everyone, he's usually the one paying for the rounds."
"I don't think I've ever dated someone who bought my friends beer," Kellen said. "The first time Dane brought her out, I asked if anyone wanted a refill while I was up and she said she'd come to the bar with me, remember? And that girl"--he shook his head, letting out a sad chuckle--"that girl paid for our drinks. Just hers and mine, since no one else needed one. I think a piece of hair next to my ear spontaneously grew six inches so I could twirl it around my finger as I blushed. No one ever bought me a drink before."
"I've covered your broke ass a million times," I said.
Kellen waved a hand. "That's different. This was like having a butterfly house in my lower intestines for the rest of the night."
"You sure you didn't just eat too much cheese again?" Nola asked.
Kellen grinned. "Nah, that was the night we had two-for-one coupons for mozza sticks and cheesy bread. I took a Lactaid. It was definitely from being bought a beer."
"Okay, so you like her because she bought you beer," Dane said. "That doesn't mean--"
"And remember when we wanted to watch lacrosse?" Beau asked. "You were sure she wouldn't want to go, but the second we mentioned it, she bought one of those skyboxes."
"A skybox, Dane!" Kellen repeated. "And then, when we were all hungover the next morning, she got up and made us cinnamon buns." He shook his head. "I told you not to let that girl go. Remember? I said to you, 'Dane, I don't know how your stupid ass convinced her to date you, but they don't make a lot of women like her. Hang onto her, boy.'"
"It's true," Nola said. "I'd kill for a girl like that."
"You have a boyfriend," Dane said through clenched teeth.
