Chapter 29

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Author's Note: This chapter will be HALF AND HALF. Well, it will have some of Josh's POV and then it will go back to Scarlett's :) 

Dedicated to: roani_SaysHi  :) :) 

Story Quote: "It got my father and my worries of my mind and I was glad for that."

Chapter 29

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JOSH'S POV

I don't know how long I've been walking for now. A couple of hours I'd say. At least there is still civilisation around, and shops. I'm looking for something, I don't know what though. I turn a corner, seeing more shops up ahead. As I pass, I spot a pub. That's not a bad idea. At the sight of it, I sigh in relief. An icy, cold drink would be great. I stop and rummage through my pockets. I have a couple of notes from my dad's house that I took. How else would he get all his own alcohol? 

I turn and head up to the entry. I push on the door. Warm air and the smell of carpet and beer overcome me. The sound of laughter and drunk talk fill my ears. A guard nods at me, but he has an uncertain look on his face. I mean, I'm newly eighteen. I drank before then anyway. I continue to walk but he puts his arm out to stop me. 

"You look a little young," he says sternly, but he has no expression on his face. 

I make a huff of annoyance and shove my hands in my pocket, looking for my ID. I know I lived at youth camp, but that doesn't mean I didn't have my own ID. Martha still made sure I got that sort of thing. She made sure I still got my license. 

I finally pull it up and show it to him. He scans and turns it over and re-reads all of my information. I rest on one leg impatiently. It's not a fake!

"Here you go sir," he says gruffly, handing it back to me. 

"Thanks," I mumble angrily. 

He takes a step back and crosses his hands in front of him to make the usual V shape. I walk past him and toward the bar where the laughter and chatter becomes louder. I take a seat at the stool. The bar tender heads over, while he dries out a glass. 

"Hey, what can I do for ya," he grins. 

"Just your average beer," I reply. 

"Just the thing."

He walks over to the shelf behind him, putting the glass up before pulling out a plain glass for me. He heads back to the counter and fills it up. 

"Here ya go," he says, sliding it over to me. 

I hold it up to my mouth and take a gulp. As I do, a feel a friendly slap on the shoulder. I turn around to see some random. He's an older guy, probably in his fifties, who looks friendly but enjoys his time out too. 

"Hey there son, me and me friend's were wonderin' if ya'd like to play poole with us?"

I shrug and agree, bringing my drink with me.  

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Throughout the night, I was tempted to have another drink, and then another, and probably another after that. Sometimes I went outside for an hour then I'd go back in and play some more poole. It got my father and my worries of my mind and I was glad for that. 

It was starting to get hot, so I decided to go back outside. Even with four beers down, I didn't feel too tired. I staggered a bit but everything was crystal clear. 

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