Contributor: Malia Taylor - - Josh slammed the door to his truck, catching the tail of his shirt in it in the process. “Shit,” he muttered, quickly unlocking it and opening the door to release his shirt. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he neared the scuffed, wooden door. He could already hear the jukebox playing some old song by Journey, and smell the fried food and stale beer. Danny’s Pub was not a high-class joint by any stretch of the imagination, but it was where he’d first seen her. It’s where she hangs out, where he hoped she would be tonight. He cursed himself for taking so long to get ready – she usually went home before 11 o’clock and it was nearly that now, but he couldn’t show up looking like he’d just come from a construction site. Not tonight. Tonight was the night he would grow a pair and finally get her number....

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Author: Malia Taylor