<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">Ava gave a shameless shrug of her shoulders at his protest, innocently swaying to the tune as it played with her drink in hand. Amused as he approached the bar, downing a shot of liquid courage, she waited patiently while he prepared himself. When he began finally her eyes widened, stunned beyond words as he mouthed the lyrics, committing to his performance as he swayed to the music. At first all she could do was stare in amazement, her lips parted and her jaw fixed open as he glided in her direction to the beat of the rhythm. Bubbles of laughter emitted from her, hands going to her face to stifle the notes of utter delight that emerged when he snapped enthusiastically, the timing being nothing short of perfection as it was followed by the guitar solo. She was too wrapped up in the moment to notice the onlookers, just as enthralled as she was with the entertaining show he put on. It was likely as much excitement as the place had seen in some time. The Hunter’s performance breathed life into the sleepy roadside dive, brought energy and excitement to those who sat back and enjoyed the way he used the space. Ava’s stomach was cramping from how hard she laughed, eyes becoming glassy as tears slowly welled within them. <br/>
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She expected that he would eventually have enough of making a fool of himself, that he would take her up on her kind offer and stop at some point. But, Wes seemed to be enjoying himself as much as everyone else-- going as far as bringing in props to his performance as he lifted his leg onto the chair, treating the entire establishment to an impressive air guitar solo. Her cheeks ached from the ear to ear smile that was fixed to her face. They were filled with that same rosy hue, the lovely color that came from some very flattered place within her. She was completely enamored as he baltered and belted, gradually making his way back toward the dart boards where she stood. Picking up the darts he used them as a microphone, bringing the frayed plastic tip to her so that she could sing into them. Ava was happy to oblige, singing along with him word for word until he spun around, letting the dart fly out of his hand. The smile that had been glued to her lips fell suddenly, turning to shock at the sight of the same frayed bristles she once sang into now in the center of the board. Her disbelief was written all over her face. <br/>
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A feeling of unfairness emerged, though she knew that it was a completely baseless feeling. She had no right to feel that way since it was his turn and there was no trickery involved-- not on his part, and not on hers. She wished she had anticipated the shot, knew it was coming so that she could prepare some form of sabotage to sour his efforts. Her hands went to her hips as he looked back at her, that all too pleased grin on his face returning to its irksome glory. “I . . . I guess that did seem to do the trick.” She agreed, obvious displeasure in her tone the song came to an end and he made his way over to the jukebox. Dread came over her as she watched him choose, giving her a taste of his own medicine while he went through the process of selecting a song. Tapping her foot, she awaited the first notes to play on the speakers. Upon hearing the twang of the popular hit country song, she massaged her temples, mentally berating herself for ever adding terms to their little game. But, Ava didn’t stew for long. She downed the rest of her drink, placing the empty bottle back on the table so that she could channel every 90’s music video vixen.<br/>
</span><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">You can tell the world you never was my girl, You can burn my clothes up when I'm gone</span></i>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><br/>
With a spin and a playfully emphatic point she lip synced the words, shoulders giving a cheeky little shimmy before she moved from the corner of the bar. Her hips swung from side to side, silly yet flirtatious. There was no overt or purposeful  attempt to be provocative; her movements were much too overstated as she embellished them with sassy hair flips and snaps. It was the kind of unfiltered performance of women as they got ready, feeling fresh as they stepped out from the shower, before a night out, or an indulgent night in. The kind where hair brushes became microphones and mirrors became flattering camera lenses. Ava had to render the occupants in the bar invisible in order to achieve the same level of commitment, to put conviction behind her words as she sang them and the honky-tonk motions when she made them. Everyone except for Wes was just a blur, though they enjoyed the show she put on all the same. The bartender paused to watch, other patrons turning in their seats to witness all the exaggerated finger guns and cordial tips of an imaginary hat.<br/>
</span><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, I just don't think he'd understand. And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, he might blow up and kill this man</span></i>​</div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><br/>
She might have heard a whistle from the sparse crowd as her hands formed the shape of a heart over her chest, arms bringing it in and out as though it were beating. Her actual heart <i>was</i> racing. It was as much excitement as she had had in awhile, and despite not being the type to enjoy being in the spotlight she was having a great time prancing to the rhythm with her thumbs hooked into her belt loops, recreating moves from line dances. She was smiling all the while as the end of the chorus prompted her to bring out her own air guitar to strum until the next verse. Ava played it well enough, the swaying motions of her hips looking like something Elvis would do rather than the mullet-wearing country singer. She continued to dance into the next verse, showing no signs of slowing down or stopping. It was the very least she could do. Wes had been such a good sport, going above and beyond her expectations. She strove to be every bit as entertaining, to put on a performance so enjoyable that he was smiling as widely as she had been, laughing just as hard.<br/>
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By the third chorus she was winding down, and she gave a humble bow when she was through putting on a show. The bartender waved her over, having prepared another shot and another cold beer for her. She needed it. Ava chuckled softly as she grabbed the shot, throwing it back quickly. The warmth of the vodka numbed her from the embarrassment, preventing her from running out of the place.  Instead she returned to the Hunter, pushing the lime wedged in the mouth of the bottle into the cool, golden liquid. “How about we take a little break from annoying the shit out of each other?” She suggested, still catching her breath. After being chased by a swamp monster of old folklore, and dancing her heart out to Billy Ray Cyrus, she felt that they had earned a little rest. Not to mention they were even. While she was tempted to have another go at the dart board, she thought she would spare them both. “I mean, unless you want to keep our little dance off going? I did enjoy those moves of yours. I wouldn’t mind watching you do that all over again.” She laughed.</span>