• Lola was a party girl. Anyone could tell you that. It wasn’t just the way she looked— bleach blonde, tanned, perfect baby blue eyes— or the teeny sparkly top and miniskirt she wore. It wasn’t the way she pranced to the front of the nightclub line, me in tow, and got us in with a quick smile. It wasn’t even the way she danced— fun and free and just a little dangerous.

    It was the way she held herself, confident and bursting with energy and music. It was the way her heart beat in rhythm with the techno rave music. Thump, thump, thump, thump-a thump. It was the way she coaxed everyone away from the bar and onto the dance floor with just a sweeping glance.

    It was the magic of Lola. And even though I’d known her for two years, it hadn’t worn out one bit.

    “Oliver! Come dance, just for a little while!” She tugged at my hands to pull me off my stool. I fought the urge to give in.

    “One of us has to be responsible.” She laughed, danced away and popped a pill into her mouth. Who knows what it was?

    “So Oliver,” the bartender, Mike, said, “the usual?” I nodded and turned to watch him work. He concocted a glass of ice filled half with sweet-but-sour lemonade, half with the darkest blue Vodka. It was a Deep Blue Something, the perfect drink. I took a reverent sip and shuddered. Something that good should be banned. I ordered one every night— just one. It would be too easy to drink myself into oblivion and die with that sweet flavor clinging to my lips.

    I scanned the dance floor, sipping my drink. It was Saturday night, the height of the party week. Tomorrow was Sunday, and the enthusiasm just wasn’t the same when another week’s worth of work and stress lay ahead. I turned back to the bar sullenly.

    “Hello!” A chirpy voice said. It belonged to a punk-rocked out redhead. “I’m Tibby,” she said, sticking out her hand, “or Tibbers if you really like.”

    I shook her hand. “Oliver,” I said.

    “I’m visiting from Dublin for a wee bit. Staying with my brother. Where’re you from, Ollie?”

    I winced at her shortening of my name. “I live here.”

    “Do you now?! Maybe you’ve met my brother then. Oy! Liam!” she called.

    My heart started pounding faster. It was him. The only person in the world who could rival Lola in my mind. He was the poster boy for the British rock star. I’m not gay usually, I swear, but it was just…him. Bloody hell. He came to this club every Saturday night, and every eye that wasn’t on Lola never left him. Including mine.

    “Tibby, don’t impose yourself on strangers. They don’t usually like it.” Liam said. His voice was a low rumble.

    “Sure they do! This is Oliver, my new best mate!”

    “Lovely to meet you, Oliver,” he said to me.

    I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to talk right at that moment.

    Tibbers grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. “Have a dance with me, yeah?”

    “Well, I…”

    “Brilliant!”

    I found myself in the center of the music and the flashing lights and the writhing bodies. I shuffled around awkwardly before finding my rhythm.

    “Not half bad for a wallflower,” Tibbers yelled in my ear.

    I smiled humorlessly. I could see Lola dancing right in front of the DJ. The poor bloke couldn’t take his eyes off her. I could remember when that had been me— entranced by her magic, unwilling to see underneath the glitz and glamour.

    Suddenly Liam was dancing right next to me. I felt myself heat up from something other than the sweating bodies and wild dancing. I was glad of the club lighting hiding the blush I was surely wearing. The music slipped into a quieter segue, and I found myself engaged in conversation.

    “You left your drink at the bar,” Liam said. “Is that safe? Something could be slipped in there.”

    I shrugged. “Mike will watch it for me.”

    “What were you drinking? I don’t think I’ve had it before.”

    “A Deep Blue Something.” I relished the way the name slipped off my tongue.

    He opened his mouth to say more, but the music pumped up and whatever it was got lost in the noise. Liam took my elbow and led me back to the bar. When he let go, my skin tingled where his fingers had been.

    “Listen,” he said. “I know Tibbers can be a bit mental, but she seems to have taken to you. Would you mind showing her around London with me sometime?”

    It took my brain a minute to register what he said. I closed my mouth with a snap.

    “Sure,” I found myself saying. “I’d love to.”

    He pulled out his cell. “Could I get your number?”

    “Yeah, it’s—”

    “Ollie!” Lola said, draping her arm around my shoulder. “I think I had a little too much to drink!” She tried to hold up her fingers to demonstrate the amount, but failed to muster the concentration necessary.

    Tibbers had joined her brother. She was looking at me with what seemed a lot like pity. I couldn’t stand to look at Liam.

    “I’ve got to leave,” I said, talking to the ground. “See you around.” Tibbers gave sort of half hearted wave. “Come on, Lola,” I muttered. “Let’s get you home.”

    “Home” was a rather nice flat a few streets away. Dragging Lola there wasn’t easy. She stumbled around and giggled at everything.

    “Look, Ollie! The little homeless girl is crying. Ha ha! Maybe she’s hungry! You!” She pointed at a tourist. “Give her your camera!” The man walked a little faster, mumbling about “young degenerates” and such. It would have been funny if it hadn’t happened before.

    Once I got Lola inside the flat I had enough energy to tuck her into bed and collapse onto the couch. This wasn’t the life I’d asked for, and I’d tried to leave, but I kept coming back.

    In the morning I woke to the sickly smell of cigarette smoke.

    “You’re going to kill me with that someday,” I said.

    “It’s just a little smoke,” Lola said from her chair a few feet away. She looked horrid. She always did in the mornings. She wore sagging sweats and a giant T-shirt, both grimy from lying on the floor all day. Her face sagged too, with the dark circles around her eyes and the vestiges of last night’s makeup and glitter seeming to poke fun at the rest of her woeful appearance.

    “You should quit.”

    “You always say that.” She laughed charmingly. It seemed too bright for the morning.

    I got up and made my way to the bathroom.

    “Hey! Stay and talk a little bit!”

    “I have to go to work.”

    She snorted into a martini glass that magically appeared in her hand. “You know you don’t have to work.”

    “But I want to.” I closed the door on the conversation.

    I met Lola two years ago, after I moved to London from my small village in Wales. I was only eighteen and Lola’s life seemed like a fairytale to me. I was the small, shy boy who grew up with sheep and cats, never asserting myself until I told my parents I wanted to move. She was the bold and beautiful American girl living the party life across seas with Mommy and Daddy paying all the bills so she could be a disgrace to the family far, far away where no prying neighbors would notice.

    She took a liking to me instantly.

    “You look so innocent,” she’d said. “It’ll be fun corrupting you.”

    Within a week I had moved in with her. I was living in a decrepit basement apartment, and the offer was irresistible at the time. After that I fell hard and fast. We’d go out, drink, take whatever anyone put in our hands, come home high and have sex before crashing. Six months later, my little sister showed up on the doorstep, crying.

    “Have you seen yourself?” She was almost in hysterics. “You’re a complete mess, you jerk!”

    It was hard, but I cleaned myself up. I went to support groups and got a job to keep myself motivated, but I couldn’t leave Lola. The Lola magic kept pulling me back in again and again. One teary look from those blue eyes had me drowning as sure as if I’d jumped into the Thames. She was my Deep Blue Something, my addiction, my drug, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a drink.

    I arrived at work ten minutes early and put on my blue apron, automatically checking the pockets in front for pen and paper. I work at a small coffee shop in one of the shopping districts. We’re right across the road from a Starbucks, but it works out fine. People too frustrated with long lines and high prices always ended up there.

    This morning we were extra busy. I found out why when I overheard two teenyboppers talking while doing my refill rounds.

    “Can you believe the horrid luck? A machine just blowing up like that?”

    “At least no one was seriously burned,” her friend said.

    “I know, but now we’re stuck here!”

    “It’s not so bad.” The girl eyed me. I almost rolled my eyes.

    “He’s too old for you,” a deep voice said behind me. I turned around. Liam! “Stick to your fashion magazines and telly stars.” He turned to me and flashed a grin. “Hey.”

    My breath caught in my throat. He was so close. I could smell his aftershave, tell that he’d just brushed his teeth, notice that his eyes were the exact shade of blue as my favorite drink…

    “I’m actually kind of glad I ran into you here.” He looked around. “I should stop by here more often.” His eyes fixed back on mine. “You forgot to give me your number last night. You were in a bit of a hurry.”

    I felt my face heat up. This time there was no dubious lighting to hide it. “Er, sorry about that. Lola— the girl— was, er, I mean—”

    Liam put his hand on my arm. “It’s alright,” he said. I almost melted. “Me and Tibbers were thinking of seeing the sights today. How would you feel about being a tourist in your own city for the day?”

    “S-sure!”

    “How long until you’re done?”

    “Two hours.”

    “We’ll be here.”

    The next two hours seemed to crawl. My eyes kept flicking to the clock no matter how many times I commanded them to stop. The morning rush trickled out. All of them seemed to want more and more refills. My boss told me twice to stop hassling her customers.

    “Sorry. I’m just, er, preoccupied this morning.”

    “I can tell.” Her eyes twinkled.

    Finally, as I was clearing the last few tables from the morning business, the bell on the door chimed for Liam and Tibbers.

    “Have fun,” my boss said as I hung up my apron and punched out. I barely heard her.

    We went everywhere. I’d never toured any of the famous places here. We went to the Tower of London, St. Paul’s Cathedral, the London Aquarium, Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, Kensington Palace, Windsor Castle…everywhere.

    We tried to get the guards to smile, made faces at the fish, acted like complete idiots, and ended up with stitches in our sides from laughing. I hadn’t had such a good day in so long. We stopped in a pub for lunch and I got Liam and Tibbers to try a Deep Blue Something. They both liked it but agreed that they preferred their Guinness. We were wandering around the toy museum when reality caught up to me. My phone began to vibrate. It was Lola.

    “Who?” Liam asked. I showed him the screen. He looked into my eyes. It was just us in the room— Tibbers had gone to the loo. “Do you want to answer that?”

    “I should.”

    He sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. “I’ve watched you with her. You’re always around her, picking up the pieces. It’s not healthy.”

    He was disgusted. “I’m sorry.” I looked down at my hands. My phone was still vibrating.

    He tucked his fingers under my chin and turned my face back to his. I wanted to catch those fingers, kiss them, something.

    “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

    “I-I…”

    “Don’t.” He took the phone and set it on a chair. He was leaning closer. I could see the little patch of stubble he’d missed shaving this morning. I could count how many times the museum lights were reflected in his eyes. I could see that he had a faint scar on his left eyebrow. I wondered how he’d gotten it.

    Suddenly his cheek was right next to mine, and his hands clasped my face. I heard him inhale, smelling my hair.

    “Do you have any idea how mental you’re making me?”

    And then his lips were brushing mine. It wasn’t passionate or longing or desperate, but it was the sweetest thing I’d ever tasted.

    “I’m sorry,” he said. For the first time he seemed self-conscious. He started to pull away.

    “No,” I said. I tangled my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his mouth back down to mine.

    “You don’t mind?” he mumbled against my lips.

    “Bloody hell, no,” I mumbled back. And then we were kissing again, for what seemed like forever.

    “Ahem.” We broke apart. Tibbers was standing in front of us tapping her foot. “Now that you two have finish snogging, can we go eat?”

    Liam had a goofy grin on his face, presumably from kissing me, and I couldn’t help but smile too.

    They took me to Liam’s apartment. It was a little small, but cozy. It had a warm, friendly feel that Lola’s flat never did, no matter how much I pretended. Liam cooked. He made the best spaghetti I’d ever had. The first bite was an explosion of spices and tomato and goodness.

    “I’m never eating microwave food again,” I said, gazing at my plate. Tibbers laughed, and Liam smiled at me across the table.

    “I’m glad you like it.”

    “Where’d you learn to cook like that?”

    Liam shrugged.

    “He went to culinary school,” Tibbers piped up. “He’s working in a bakery right now.”

    “Wicked!” I said.

    He grinned.

    Later, we were sitting on Liam’s old, worn out couch watching late night telly. Tibbers had gone to bed a while ago, and I could feel my eyelids drooping.

    “I should get you home,” Liam said.

    “Yeah.” I didn’t want this day to end.

    He walked me to the curb and got me a taxi.

    “You know, Lola’s really not good for you.”

    “I know. I just can’t leave her right now. I’m the only real friend she has.” I begged him with my eyes to please, please, please understand.

    “It’s alright.” He shut the taxi door, and I watched him grow smaller before disappearing when we turned a corner.

    Lola was waiting up for me. The place reeked of cigarettes and beer.

    “Don’t you like me anymore?” she asked me.

    “What’s wrong?” I asked, rushing over.

    “You didn’t answer my call!” She burst into tears. I hugged her to me. I was a little mad, but it was my fault, really. I was the one who let her depend on me to be there whenever she called. “I was going to take you shopping with me, but you ignored me!” she wailed.

    “I’m sorry. I can’t be here all the time. I have things I need to do— without you.”

    “You’re going to leave me?” she gasped.

    “Someday.” She started to sob again. There was nothing I could do about it.

    ~@~


    Four months later I slipped in the back entrance to Bella’s Bakery, the bakery Liam works at. He grinned when he saw me come in. I smiled too. He was covered in flour and frosting.

    “Good morning, Oliver,” he said and kissed my cheek.

    “You got frosting on me!”

    “Uh huh, love you too.”

    I grinned and latched my arms around his waist. “Thanks for getting Lola the job here. She’s doing much better now.”

    After I started spending time with Liam, Lola had no one to drag her home when her clubbing went bad. She had to start dealing with the consequences herself.

    She woke me up after getting home six weeks ago.

    “Ollie,” she said.

    “Wha-? What time is it?” I looked at my clock. “Bloody-! What do you want, Lola?!”

    “I want to quit smoking. And drinking. And maybe clubbing less.”

    I sat up. “Are you serious?” She nodded. “That’s great!” I hugged her.

    “I want a real job too,” she said. “Could-could you help me?”

    “Sure!”

    It just happened that one of the delivery girls at Bella’s was pregnant and couldn’t work for a while. Bella agreed to let Lola fill in and if she did a well enough job, she’d be permanently hired.

    Lola was thrilled.

    “I get to talk to people? And ride a moped?”

    Bella nodded. “And don’t forget to take their money, too.”

    Bella walked into the kitchen while Liam and I were still holding each other. “Get back to work! I’m not paying you to snog, and you-!” She rounded on me. “I’m regretting letting you use the back entrance.”

    “Sorry, won’t happen again,” I grinned. We both knew that was a lie. “Gotta get to work,” I told Liam. “See you later. Dinner’s at seven, right?”

    “Don’t be late,” he called after me.

    I was so excited for tonight, I hardly noticed what I was doing all day. Liam had “something important” to tell me. Before I knew it, seven o’clock had rolled around and I was knocking on Liam’s door.

    He swept me into a kiss as soon as the door was open.

    “What did you want to tell me?” I asked, a little breathlessly.

    “Later,” he said. “Dinner first.”

    Dinner was, as usual, fantastic. Liam went really overboard and made loads of fancy foreign dishes with unpronounceable names, although he finished off with my favorite, treacle tart.

    After he cleared away everything and we washed all the dishes, Liam sat me down and took my hands.

    “Oliver,” he said, stroking my hands, “in two weeks I’m going to Dublin for a month to visit with my family. You know I miss them terribly.”

    I nodded, holding my breath.

    “I was wondering, since I’ve told them all about you already and they’re all dying to meet you, if you would come with?”

    “Yes! Of course I would!”

    “Brilliant!”

    He kissed me once, hard, and then started babbling about all his relatives, from Grandfather O’Conner to little baby Emmy.

    “…and Patrick! Watch out for his dreadlocks…” I laughed. I loved that he loved his family so much.

    He seemed to notice that he was neglecting me and abruptly halted his train of thought, looking up at me with those Deep Blue Something eyes.

    “You know what? I’m not in the mood for talking about my family anymore.”

    “Oh, really?” I asked. “And what are you in the mood for?”

    His eyes darkened, and that was the only warning I got before he pounced.

    Lying in Liam’s arms that night, I realized that Lola’s spell on me had broken. The moment I let her stop being a mystical, otherworldly being and started seeing her as an actual person, I’d been able to let go of her. She still had the same party girl inviting quality about her, but it was toned down by her excitement just to be normal for once.

    Liam shifted in his sleep and pulled me closer.

    In some ways, Liam was my new drug. In other ways he was sunlight, warm on my skin, and the air I breathe to live. Just as addictive as a drug, but better. Much better.

    The End