The final bell rang and the students poured from the halls. A few of my regulars peeked their heads in to wish me a good break, but the majority of them walked past my office without so much as a second thought. I want to work with High School students, I said, I can connect to them since they’re older. Yeah, right. High School students were dense and scatter-brained, caring only about getting through the week in order to spend time with their friends. Sure, there was a select group that actually cared about their grades and their well-being, but the majority of the students that actually utilized the school psychologist were students that had a strong head on their shoulders and just wanted reassurance that the path they were on was the right one. Which it usually was. It was the students that were forced to come into my office that I wanted to help the most, but they didn’t want the help. And those were also the students who walked right past my open door without as much as a wave to leave with me before departing for summer vacation.

Since it was the last day of school, I remained behind in order to go through my desk and organize my files. It was something that I had learned to do before summer break through trial and error. Returning back to work after a summer vacation that was a blur of alcohol, loud music, and patchy memories on a tour bus to find an array of papers that hadn’t been touched or organized in months was a very insufficient way to start the year. I threw out all of my old memos and flyers that were cluttered around my desk and made sure to find any snacks that had been stowed away so they wouldn’t rot over the break. I pulled out file folder after file folder and made sure to re-alphabetize my drawers and lock them after I was done.

Just as I sat down to begin sorting through my computer files, my phone began to ring beside me, Mike’s face flashing across the screen.

I answered the phone, already knowing exactly what he wanted of me. “Not tonight, Mike, you already know my plans.”

Mike groaned but it was barely audible through the commotion in the background.

“Jeez, are you guys already at the bar?” I asked, using my shoulder to keep my phone in place as I logged into my school email account. I began to delete old event reminders and the stupid chain mail that Kendra Billings, the computer essentials teacher, always spammed me with.

“Do you even know what time it is?” Mike asked, nearly yelling. “It’s nine o’clock, Sindel. The janitor has probably already gone home by now and tucked himself into bed.”

I looked at the upper right-hand corner of my MacBook and read the time. 9:12PM. I immediately shut the laptop and sighed. “Okay, I’ll be down there in ten.” I began to check around my office, making sure I had packed up any personal belongings that I wanted to take home with me during the break. “Is Jolee already there?”

“Duh,” Mike replied. I imagined him rolling his eyes. I didn’t blame him. School got out at two-thirty and Jolee was probably in the bar no later than two thirty-one. She was my best friend, but we were polar opposites in that aspect of our career. I guess if I was actually conducting a classroom for six hours a day, I might feel differently about staying late on our first night of vacation.

The Silver Fox was our usual spot - a dive bar with a couple of billiards tables and a dartboard. It was always dark in there, the lighting being very relaxing and inviting to all the right people so it was never rowdy. This was our go-to spot after a long day or week, the spot we all gathered at to tell our news, the spot we all gathered at to celebrate a new album release, the spot we all gathered at to cheer someone up after a breakup, this was our spot and had been for years.

Our group was usually the only source of noise, but as I entered the bar I saw an abundance of people and could barely hear the sound of the music playing. Jaime noticed me first, lifting his arms in the air and shouting, “She has arrived!” Jess, Jaime’s girlfriend whipped her head over and lifted her arms in the air to mimic Jaime. The rest of the group threw their arms up and turned to see me, each of them shouting out the same phrase Jaime had used.

“Will you guys ever stop doing that?” I groaned as I slid into the bar stool beside Mike. I shrugged off my green, draped jacket and adjusted my oatmeal colored top as I locked the heels of my boots onto the footrest bar of my stool. “It’s so crowded tonight.”

“When was the last time you’ve been here on a Friday night?” Mike asked, placing his arm around my shoulders to pull me into his side.

I shrugged him away and cringed.

“Dang, someone’s grumpy,” Mike commented, backing away. “What’s wrong? No apples on your desk today?”

I rolled my eyes before motioning to the bartender for my usual drink. He nodded in response and began pulling together the ingredients. “I’m not a teacher. Jolee is the one who gets apples on her desk.”

“Poisoned apples, maybe,” Tony chimed in as he approached the table. “I swear, she is driving me insane right now.” He ran his fingers through his hair, gripping at the ends before letting out a huff.

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise,” Mike teased.

Tony gave him a death glare before letting out another huff through a clenched jaw.

“What’s wrong? Did you guys have a fight?” I asked, gently placing my hand on his shoulder.

Tony stood up straighter and backed away from my touch. “Sindel,” he said in a warning tone, “you’re doing it again…”

I removed my hand and sighed. “I can’t help it! I’m a licensed psychologist, what do you want me to do?”

“Don’t get all interested and probe into my head like you try to do,” he said, waving his hands as he struggled to explain himself.

“And how does it make you feel when I do that?” I teased, a playful smile tugging at my lips.

“It makes me fe-” he paused to look at me. “Hey!”

“I almost got you on that one,” I pointed out, giving him a knowing look. As if right on cue, Jolee marched right toward the table. She latched onto Tony’s side and pulled on his ear so he would bend over so she could whisper something into his ear. His face lit up and he excused himself from the table, following like a lovesick puppy behind Jolee.

My drink came just in time and I gladly took a long drink of my usual - sex on the beach. It was so overrated and so common, but it was my favorite and every bar knew how to make them so I never had to pick a second favorite.

Alysha arrived shortly after I had ordered my second drink. She stood in the doorway, her eyes scanning the room before we locked eyes and I waved her over.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were coming down this weekend,” I said, inviting her in for a hug.

“Yeah, well, Mike said that you finished your first drink in under fifteen minutes and I knew it was going to be a crazy night, so I couldn’t miss it,” she teased. “Where’s Mike?”

I looked around the bar, narrowing my eyes as I searched for his rebel eight cap. “There! Playing pool with Jaime.”

I watched as she approached Mike, wrapping her arms around his back as he was bent over the pool table, setting up for his next shot. She placed her lips to his neck and Mike’s face lit up, but he didn’t break his concentration. He made the shot, sending the eight ball into the back right pocket to win the game. He turned around, immediately wrapping his arms around her and whispering something into her ear before kissing her.

I scanned the room for the rest of the gang - Jess was bringing Jaime a drink and consoling him on his loss, Vic was in the corner of the room, talking on the phone, and only God knows where Jolee had drug Tony off to.

Jess and Jaime had been together since the beginning of time. There was a time where they separated for a bit, but they found their way back to each other and have been inseparable ever since. Vic had his girlfriend, Danielle, who was rather new to the group, much like Alysha, and Tony and Jolee had been dating for going on three years. I was the only single one of the group. I was the ninth wheel in everything that we did, and it didn’t particularly bother me, but it did suck when I wanted to do something on a Saturday night and everybody else was too busy doing coupley things.

I had dated before, but I never could commit to something serious. Something was always missing. There was always at least one reason why I couldn’t settle down and accept a boyfriend into my life. I would always search for something wrong with each man I dated, almost as if I wanted each potential candidate to fail my checklist, almost as if I was waiting for something different, something better.

So, in the meantime, I filled my nights with flirting with random men in order to fill my need for male attention. I wasn’t like single Mike, though. I didn’t lure in innocent people, prey on them, and then send them packing by morning. I just liked to talk and get to know people and do some harmless flirting. It was empty, sure, but it got me by.

I looked down at my phone for a split second to check the time. It had only been an hour since I left work and I already felt like it was time for bed. I could never say that out loud, though, because I would never hear the end of it from Mike. You act like you’re seventy years old! I could already hear his voice in my head.

My attention was pulled away when the bartender placed another drink in front of me and began to walk to the other side of the bar where he was chatting up a couple of girls that were clearly underage.

“Oh, um, Daniel!” I called out, catching his attention back over. “I didn’t order another.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s from the gentleman right over there.” He pointed to the end of the bar, a few people right of the underage girls, where a man was standing with his right hand around his glass and his left stuffed into his front pocket. His blonde hair was gelled back, his green eyes luring me into his gaze. He gave me a crooked smile, barely cracking his mouth open enough to show a few teeth. He fumbled to pull his hand out of his pocket to give me a wave, but ended up pulling it out too forcefully and losing control of his arm, causing him to hit the man beside him. His mouth stretched into a worried frown as his eyes went wide. He looked at the man he hit and apologized several times before looking back over to me and lifting his shoulders in a guilty shrug. I let out a laugh at how awkward the entire situation was, turning my gaze back down to my drink as I bit back a smile.

“Wow, that looks so much easier in movies,” he said, standing beside me.

“Which part? Taking your hand out of your pocket or hitting a stranger in a bar?”

He groaned while covering his face with his hands. “What a horrible first impression,” he said through a chuckle. I couldn’t help but laugh at his embarrassment. The entire situation was too unreal. “You know, I sat there for like ten minutes just thinking about which pose to be in when the bartender pointed me out. I finally settled on the smoldering look,” he paused to give me an impression of his smoldering look, causing my laughter to increase. “But then when it came down to it, I somehow ended up with casual-hand-in-pocket-pose.”

“Should have stuck with the smoldering look,” I commented through my laughter. “Well, either way, thank you for the drink. I’m Sindel.”

“Sammy,” he said, holding his hand out.

We exchanged pleasantries and got to talking, the conversation immediately gravitating toward cliche movie scenes where the guy buys the girl a drink at the bar and then magically gets to take her home. I was four drinks in by the time the bar hit its peak. It was passed midnight and the bar was at maximum capacity, something that never happened at The Silver Fox. It was getting harder to hear what Sammy was saying, so as he talked I just admired how handsome he was. He looked to be slightly younger than me, he had no visible tattoos or piercings, and he looked like someone who spent a lot of time at the beach. He was the complete opposite of what I normally went for in a guy, but it was nice. As petty as it sounded, I was sick of being around musicians all the time. Not just Mike, Vic, Jaime, or Tony, but their friends. My summer was about to be filled with partying on a tour bus, getting into trouble in hotels around the country, and possibly hooking up with an attractive drummer from another band. I always went for the drummers.

The more I thought about the past guys I had dated or hooked up with, the more I found Sammy to be attractive. He was different for me, and maybe he could be the something different I was looking for. Even if it was only going to be for a night.

“I can’t hear anything you’re saying,” I called out.

“Huh?” he asked, leaning in.

I laughed a bit. “It’s too loud in here, want to get out of here?”

Sammy pulled back a bit to smile at me. “So the drink at the bar thing really does work.”

“Don’t press your luck,” I said, standing up. I draped my jacket over my arm after slinging my purse over my shoulder. I looked around to find Mike so I could tell him I was leaving, but the bar was so crowded I decided that shooting him a text would have to suffice.

Sammy paid for the cab ride over to my house and as soon as the cabbie started down the road, I straddled Sammy in his seat, his hands immediately going to my hips, his body shaking slightly from the thrill. “This is because you’re hot, not because of the drink.” I clarified, searching his eyes for a moment. My lips immediately attached to his and we made out for the cab ride over to my house.

The night was a blur as my alcohol caught up to me, but sex with Sammy was exactly the right way to kick off summer vacation away from work. He was tender, sensual, and safe. He didn’t have any unusual requests or expectations from me. It was pure pleasure and that was all that I needed. He fell asleep in my bed after hours of pleasure, but was gone by the time I woke up in the morning. Good, no awkward goodbyes. If things played out right, I would never have to see him again. A flawless one night stand.

I brewed myself some coffee to try and kill the slight headache that was beginning. I checked the time and saw that I still had plenty of time to make it over to Mike’s house for his breakfast-lunch special, but when I tried to stand up for more than thirty minutes to take a shower, my head began to pound so hard that I thought my eyeballs might fall out of my head.

This is why I’m just a measly school psychologist. No long hours. No late nights, I reminded myself.

Just as I was about to drift off into a peaceful nap with the white noise of an unserviced television channel in the background, there was a knock at my front door. The knocking radiated in my skull and I felt as if the knocking was coming from within my head, hitting my brain and forcing me to whimper at the pain.

The door opened after a minute and the knocking in my head stopped, but the pain remained. I looked up to see Mike shutting the door behind him.

“Why was the door unlocked?”

“Huh?” I replied, rubbing my head as I tried to sit up.

Mike observed my actions as he took a seat on the loveseat. “You missed breakfast so I came to check up on you. How are you this hungover? You had two drinks and then left.”

“No, I had four drinks and then left and had...dessert…” I said, trying to cover up my events from the night before. Although Mike was my absolute best friend, I still felt strange telling him about my sex life. Mike would always tell me about his sex life, and in extreme detail, but I could never do the same. I suppose I was a bit of a hypocrite in that sense: I wanted to know everything that went on in his mind, but I never wanted him inside of mine. It was my psychologist nature to want to pry and analyze, but as soon as someone else tried to pry, I shut down.

Mike stared at me for a moment, his eyes narrowed and I knew by the look that his mind was reeling, trying to process the little evidence that lead to what events had occurred. This was how a majority of our conversations panned out - me trying to give as little information as possible so I didn’t have to talk about my life and Mike just staring at me, trying to read my mind and put together the puzzle pieces. When our friendship first started, it definitely made things difficult.

“Did you get laid?” Mike asked, his face lighting up a bit. “Dude it’s been over three months since you’ve been laid!”

“What the fuck...you keep track of my sexual intercourse?”

Mike shrugged. “That’s what friends are for. Dude, I’m so happy for you! Who was he?”

I buried my head into the throw pillow beside me on the couch and groaned. “His name was Sammy. Blond hair, green eyes, nice body and he knew what he was doing. Is that enough information?” I lifted my head from the couch pillow and looked to Mike, somewhat hoping that he didn’t hear me but also hoping that he heard every word so I wouldn’t have to repeat myself.

Mike just chuckled, a smile on his face that told me that he had heard at least most of it. “Well, I’m here to remind about the group dinner we’re having in LA tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up around three-thirty so we can make it to our eight o’clock reservation. Dress fancy. Bring Sammy if you want,” he ended his directions with a wink and a knowing smile.

“Don’t start doing that to me. Spending the night with someone doesn’t mean I got his number,” I retorted, scoffing at myself after I realized how much like single Mike I had just sounded.

Mike smiled as if he was proud. “I have taught you well.” Mike turned around and picked something up off of the buffet table beside the front door. “Also, I brought you some breakfast. Just how you like it.”

He handed me the tupperware container that was slightly steamy, making it hard for me to see inside of the container. It was still warm, meaning that Mike had to of brought it over just after he cooked it. And he cooked some especially for me.

Notes

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Sindel's Outfit

Hello everyone! Thank you for your comments on the Prologue so far. I love seeing that people are interested so far. This story is really fun to write, actually. Chapter Two is actually my favorite so far. My friend (If you're reading this, HI JOLEE!) and I were cracking up as I was writing chapter two, so there's definitely going to be a lot more insight on Sindel's personality and her friendship with Mike in the next couple of chapters.

Be sure to check out my other stories and follow me on my social media sites if you'd like! Click here for my stories and links.

Also, any other Mortal Kombat players out there? I did get the name Sindel from Mortal Kombat, actually. Let me know your favorite MK player in the comments if you're a fellow player!