Karaoke Night

I ended Coldplay's Sky Full of Stars with a strong high note I was proud of. 

"You already know you killed it," she told me as I walked past her from the karaoke stage. 

"Haha, thank you!" I said, giving her a fist bump. Her dark hair drew me in.

"I'm Spencer," I said. 

"I'm Maya," she said.

The dive bar was poppin', so I sauntered about with compliments like "I love your hair," or "You should be selling out concerts." Some scoffed but most talked. 

"Blow it in my face," I told an older lady vaping. She told me she lived an hour away before she inhaled. Then she breathed coconut-strawberry goodness into my face, and I bought a round of lemon drops for the group. She gave me and Maya her number. She gave me fuck-me-eyes.

"I doubt she'll remember I texted her," said Maya. 

"Uh huh," I said.

Every couple songs I would crack a joke with Maya, careful to include her male companion. I wasn't sure if they were dating. She was careful to let me know they were coworkers. 

Our not-so-shy waitress licked the air and pointed at my crush. 

"I wish," I whispered. She laughed and touched my shoulder. 

"What do I do?" I asked.

She shrugged and I tabbed out, nursing my fourth Jack and Coke. Later that waitress told Maya an angry customer had punched her in the face on his way out of the bar. I watched her rub her bruised cheek behind the counter as Maya told me the news. I wished I knew who did it so I could...

Maya danced with me. We co-sang Lady Gaga's (and Bradley Cooper's) Shallow. We were too drunk to care about our flats and sharps. 

"I'm in my hoe phase," I told her after. 

"I appreciate you telling me that," she said, offering a high-five. I returned it, pained smile reminding me that the hoe phase was only a partial truth.

But I couldn't date her. Not while I...

She left. We texted a couple times. I sat by myself for a while at the bar, tired from dancing, tired from an elusive feeling of guilt. 

When I got home I remembered her "Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe." 

Maybe that was just her being nice, I thought, setting my phone on the dresser. 

I cuddled my dog and shut my eyes, imagining what it would've been like to have her in my arms and smell her dark hair.