“You're bringing a book?” The look on Willow's face told Charlie that maybe bringing a book to the bar was a bad idea.

“You said it was just a juice bar, didn't you? I can take book to a juice bar.” She hugged her worn copy of [i]Archer's Cross[/i] to her chest, awkwardly hiding it in the open top half of her shirt. If not for Willow's intervention, she would have been wearing paint-spattered dungarees and a beanie. Instead, she was made to wear a freshly ironed shirt and jeans; the icing on the top of the being-forced-out-for-the-night cake. Her best friend had good intentions, she was sure, but the idea of this “Mingle” place didn't sit well.

Willow glared at the book as if it had intentionally screwed with her plans. Finally, she huffed, locked her front door and strode into the street. She subjected Charlie to a long rant about the need for human connection as they walked to the juice bar. Willow lived on the edge of town, but the juice bar wasn't a long way off, and Charlie didn't trust her to drive even if she was going to be sober.

The bouncer was terrifying. Willow flashed her friendliest smile, and her ID, and Charlie followed suit, minus the smile. At the all-clear, they entered Mingle, and Charlie froze at the sight of the glow sticks. Willow hadn't told her about [i]that[/i]. She groaned. “Will, what are those?” 

“What do you think? They're required, okay? It's no biggie. Here.” Willow picked one green and one blue glow stick from the piles and wrapped them both around Charlie's left wrist. She stepped back to admire her work, pressing a hand to her chest in mock surprise. “Oh, look at that! They don't bite, isn't that something?” Laughing, she chose a yellow bracelet for herself and walked into the bar. Charlie mimicked her laugh while her back was turned, then followed.

Charlie took a good look around, and wondered if they were early. Was “fashionably early” a thing? She hated the vulnerability that sunk into her as she stood in the middle of the room. “Okay, I came, I saw, and now I want to go home. Off we go, yeah?” She made to leave, but Willow grabbed her arm and dragged her to the bar. A strawberry and banana smoothie slid into her hands a moment later, courtesy of the bartender. She cursed Willow for knowing her vices so well.

The woman had planned this too thoroughly, Charlie decided. She took her drink and slipped into a booth, opening her book so she could hide behind it. Willow bounced after her like an impatient puppy, scanning the bar with narrowed eyes, like some sort of cartoon villain, for a suitable match.

Charlie prayed she would give up quickly.