[h1][color=deeppink]Kaitlin O'Connor[/color][/h1]

Only when Kaitlin started her car, a black Chevy Malibu, did she let out the breath she hadn't even realized she had been holding. Without putting any thought into where she was driving, she made the quick trip to a local bar that she remembered from being a teenager.

The Pour House was a stand alone brick structure on a main road in town that Kaitlin had driven by many times already. The name was emblazoned in gold against a black back drop on both the front and side of the building that faced the road. Emerald green awnings gave way to the Irish heritage of the bar. 

The interior, Kaitlin noticed, was warm and inviting in that well worn, slightly disheveled way that is comfortable to locals. There were many empty high tops that spanned the outer edge of the room, but Kaitlin choose an empty seat at the large central bar. Her stool wobbled just a little, and she had to steady herself with the smooth oak counter in front of her.

“What can I get you sweetheart?” the bar tender asked, placing a napkin down in front of her. He was older, wearing a black tee shirt with The Pour House written on the front. If Kaitlin had to take a guess, the man serving her was either the manager or the owner himself.

[color=deeppink]“Guinness please,”[/color] she said, her eyes scanning the central liquor self.[color=deeppink] “And a shot of Jameson, but only if you carry Gold Reserve.” [/color]

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that the day had slipped away from her and she had barely taken any time to eat.

[color=deeppink]“Oh and fries, please.” [/color] She sad, handing the bar tender her card to start a tab as he handed her the Guinness. Too many times in life she had made the mistake of drinking on an empty stomach, and was in no hurry to make that mistake again.

Moments later, he placed the shot of whiskey in front of her, which she promptly threw back with no hesitation, chasing it with a heavy sip of beer.

“We don't get many women in here shooting whiskey. You either really like it, or had one hell of a day.” said the bartender, idly cleaning a spot at the bar near where Kaitlin sat.

[color=deeppink]“Little bit of both,” [/color] she said honestly. [color=deeppink] “I grew up with daddy drinking whiskey after long work days at home. I think I forced myself to like it, just to make him proud.”[/color]

After that more patrons came in and the bar tender was swept away filling beers, and talking to people whom Kaitlin assumed were regulars. It seemed this bar was a favorite for the local working class. Men with dirt and oil still on their hands from a hard days work filtered in and out, a long with a few women who were at the age where they still wanted to go enjoy a few Friday night drinks, but not be bothered while they did it.

Moments later her fries were brought out, and Kaitlin immediately began heavily coating them in salt and pepper before pushing them all to one side of the basket so she could fill the other side with ketchup. She was absolutely going to clog her arteries with all the junk she ate, but she didn't care. Her metabolism would surely also slow down one day, but until that day came she was going to take advantage of it.

A second beer was delivered shortly after, and Kaitlin let her thoughts drift back to what a complete disaster today had been. When she ran into Keisha in the hall that morning in school, she had honestly thought that was going to be the worst of it. But no. It had been a steady decline from there, culminating with the encounter with Elaine Lancaster. Or rather, Callahan now. For years in therapy Kaitlin had to listen to people drone on about “interacting, not reacting” and she had gotten pretty good at it (even if she did still partially believe it was a load of crap). Part of it had made sense though, about not just reacting to what was causing her to get emotional, and teaching her to listen and stay present instead. Then boom. Thirty seconds with Elaine had her head exploding.

Kaitlin knew she had a lot currently to be happy about. Everything would be coming together for her in the next few days. As for all the drama waiting for her when she returned to Edenridge High for work... well..luckily enough the weekend stretched out before her, and she would have plenty of time to think about what she wanted to do. And hey, at least she knew where she stood, so it probably couldn't get any worse. For now, she had beer and fries, and she was happy.