The new Foxes, at least, didn’t set off the same warning bells for Lydia. They hadn’t been around when she was known as Shane’s girl above all else, and there was a chance they didn’t yet know how it had all ended. They were too busy settling into the team themselves to consider Lydia’s story anyway, and for a brief moment at least, that would make them both outsiders. Until the freshmen inevitably found their place on the team, of course, and Lydia didn’t, because she knew she’d still be a part of Eden’s moreso than the Foxes.
When she’d first started at Eden’s, it had felt exciting, dirty, wild: working in a bar, even though she was underage herself, still miles away from the home she’d run from. She’d also been reeling from James abandoning her though, and when Eden’s had offered a job, she’d taken it without any second guesses. Now she’d been working here since her teen years, moving from washing the glasses to making the drinks, and in a way, she was almost as much as fixture in the place as the Foxes were. Maybe more, because the Foxes changed every few years, and Lydia didn’t.
Her and Glory’s interactions had been brief so far, more or less an introduction, but she wasn’t feeling as much of an urge to hide in the back room now that they were speaking once more. Judging by Glory’s surprised expression, the other Foxes hadn’t filled her in on the arrangement the Foxes had with Eden’s Twilight. The Foxes were loyal to Eden’s, and that brought them business, ensured that the rest of Palmetto was interested in the bar too, despite its distance from the school. So, in turn, the bartenders looked the other way when someone underaged wanted to drink. As long as her job wasn’t in jeopardy, Lydia couldn’t bring herself to care much either. She’d been tossing back shots and worse long before hitting twenty one. It would make her a special kind of hypocrite to worry about that kind of thing now.
So, despite the fact that Glory was absolutely not yet twenty one, Lydia considered Glory’s vague request for a moment. They weren’t too busy at the moment, and that meant she had the time to sit with Glory and work on a surprise drink. She leaned up against the counter for a moment, running through the various options on the menu. There were too many to decide without some kind of direction though—especially since she’d rather not have Glory immediately send it back, if she made the wrong thing. “Are you a sweet drink person or a sour drink person?”
Glory remembered her first taste of alcohol. Most kid’s first time with the stuff was a forbidden, secret thing. Snuck out of their parents liquor cabinets, or poorly concocted at some high school party, drunk quickly before the guilt of their parents finding out could persuade them to opt out of it. Ironic that her first ever taste of it came from said parent. New Years Eve, the year she’d turned thirteen. They were having a party to celebrate, although it was more for the fact that their father was home for the holiday as opposed to the holiday itself. All the kids were curled around the TV in the living room, waiting for the infamous moment that was the ball dropping in New York, but Glory wasn’t interested. She was much more focused on spending time with her father, who was drinking a beer with a few of his work buddies at the kitchen table. She sat perched up on one of the kitchen counters, just watching him talk and laugh, the way his hands moved when he did so. He’d been gone for so long, and would be again so soon. She didn’t want to miss a minute with him, and he must have sensed this, for he looked over his shoulder and looked directly at her with a smile that so closely resembled her own. He hadn’t wasted any time in inviting her over to him, wrapping an arm around her waist in a side hug as she stood next to him, looking up at her. He must’ve mistaken her interest in the way his hands moved as an interest for the beer in said hand, for he took a dramatic look around, as if searching for her siblings, before pushing it just the slightest bit towards her.
“Make it quick.” He’d whispered with a little wink, something to tell her that it was just between the two of them. Glory hadn’t had any interest in the alcohol, but she liked the idea of having something just between the two of them that she hadn’t even hesitated to take the bottle (of course, sniffing at it before raising it to her lips) and taking way too large of a sip for something that honest to goodness tasted like piss. The face she made must have shown her distaste, for her dad let out a booming laugh and squeezed her waist affectionately. “Gotta say, kid, that makes me feel just the slightest bit relieved.”
It shouldn’t have. That distaste for alcohol didn’t last long. The following year of high school introduced Glory to things that would not have relieved her dad in the slightest. More than just alcohol. More than just simple hits of a joint. God, if he knew the things she had done, the things that she had taken...well, maybe Glory was relieved it had been years since she’d last saw him. She wasn’t so sure he’d like who he saw anymore.
“Sweet, please.” Glory answered, though it wasn’t necessarily true. She just figured she needed something to counteract the sour thoughts running through her head. Thinking of him, and then her dad...it was too much too soon, and now, she was starting to need that drink more than ever. “...this place is pretty cool.” She offered, albeit a tad bit lamely. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say. “How long have you worked here?”
