by Chloe Garner
“Let me finish this,” he said, and she shook her head.
“No, I’m done.”
He frowned and she gave him a wizened smile.
“It wouldn’t be the same.”
He shrugged. So?
“It was fun,” she said again, asserting something that he didn’t quite understand, but he let it go, coming to stand next to her and watching the dancers.
It didn’t matter a lot, in the end, because the DJ change was only a few minutes later. As Troy had predicted, the floor got abruptly more crowded as a skinny kid in a big hat walked up the scaffolding steps behind the elevated DJ’s booth, shaking hands with the first DJ and then slapping him on the back as he left.
“That must be him,” Troy said. Olivia nodded. There was a minute of filler music as he got ready, and the ambient noise in the room dropped. More people came downstairs, pushing in ever tighter against them. Troy motioned for Olivia to come stand in front of him to buy a little more space. She finished Celeste’s martini and managed to get a step to the side, holding her arms up over her head, but then a large man stepped in front of Troy on the other side, and she wilted back, angled against Troy’s side. He put his hand on her back and she pushed harder against him, pulling her head down between her shoulders.
The filler music quit and there was silence.
A few whispers.
Someone giggled.
And then the music started.
Troy waited for something amazing to happen, but it was just music.
Music that he knew.
It was an older song, one he’d listened to in high school. Remixed, sure, but it wasn’t even a profound remix. He waited another moment, trying to figure out what it was that had brought in this crowd, but he couldn’t figure it out.
He looked down at Olivia to find her eyes, intense, staring up at Whisper.
“It’s…” she said. He shrugged.
“It’s a remix,” he said. She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “It’s…”
He waited, but instead of finishing the statement, she eased off of the wall, moving through the crowd like a corridor had been choreographed for her there. Troy tried to follow, but the tunnel collapsed behind her, just a little moving bubble. He shouldered his way through the bystanders to get to the edge of the dancers where he found something that would stay with him for the rest of his life.
The dancing was unlike anything he’d ever seen before.
He could still make out Olivia’s dress through the crowd, where she was moving with half a dozen other people, but his view came and went as the throng of people surged like ocean currents. There was no touch that he could see, outside of hands here or clothing there, but everyone moved like they were a part of something they could feel.
Like intense choreography. Choreography that was intentionally chaotic and localized, but that was still intentional, complex beyond belief and detailed.
Troy understood music. He understood how to dance to it.
This was not that.
This was something that confused his sense of musicality at the same time that it told him that he was hopelessly outclassed. He took a step back and bumped into someone.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“You should beep when you’re backing up,” Celeste answered. He turned to stare down at her and she shrugged.
“Some people get it, some people don’t,” she said. “I guess Whisper isn’t my thing. You want to go get a drink?”
He looked back out at Olivia and Celeste tugged at his shirtsleeve once.
“She’ll be fine. You get protective, you’ll just mess things up.”
He looked back at her and she winked.
“She says she hates it, but she’s always looking for someone to push her into doing stuff she’s never done before.” She motioned. “Come on.”
He reluctantly followed her through the crowd back toward the bar, finding a pair of open barstools and sitting down. Celeste ordered a drink. Troy got another water. She waited for her drink, then sat and chewed on the stir straw for a minute.
“She goes out and sits on the edge,” she said after the silence. It took Troy a moment to catch back up with what Celeste was talking about. “And then she can’t jump. She just sits there and looks over the edge at her feet. And she won’t ask you to push her, because she can’t jump, herself. But she wants to. Oh, man, does she want to jump.”
“So you push her,” Troy said. She grinned.
“I do.”
“Earl out there?” he asked. She nodded.
He looked at her hard enough to draw her attention.
“Why them, and not us?” he asked. She shook her head, her mouth turned down in a little frown.
“No clue,” she said. “Maybe we just aren’t cool enough.”
He listened hard to the music again, trying to find the magic in it that had drawn the crowd out tonight, that drew them out weekend after weekend, but he couldn’t find it. He shrugged and leaned back against the bar, drinking his water.
“Weird,” he said.
“I know, right?” Celeste answered.
And so they waited.
*********
Most of an hour later, Olivia came bouncing out of the crowd toward them.
“Why aren’t you out there?” she asked breathlessly. Troy offered her what was left of his water and she drained it, tossing it back to him. “Isn’t he amazing?”
Troy shrugged with a smile.
“I’m glad you’re having fun.”
She tossed her head back and laughed.
“I don’t understand how you can just sit here,” she said, her hips beginning to form a pattern of rhythm. She laughed again. “It just feels so good.”
She darted forward and kissed him quickly, then she was gone again. He sat back against the bar, putting an elbow up on it behind him, and looked at the empty water bottle.
Something about it felt off. Like he’d been robbed of something. Celeste was staring at him.
“What?” he asked without looking at her.
“Was that your first kiss?” she asked. He didn’t answer. Dammit if she hadn’t hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what the problem was, right that moment.
“I know it was,” Celeste said. “She would have told me.”
There was an art to the first kiss. A game. One he was very good at. Very good. There had to be a sense of pursuit, and then a moment of connection. Inevitability. And then a physicality and depth that…
“You’re pissed because she just took all the fun out of it, aren’t you?”
Depth that led further with very little effort.
Like pushing a ball down a smooth slope.
All you have to do is get it started right.
He thought of Cassie cooking dinner in her red lingerie.
Shook it off. He’d managed to avoid that night for weeks, now, and he wasn’t going to let himself dwell on it. Not here, and not now.
“Maybe…” he said, thinking it but not wanting to say it. Feeling dirty in his sense of comparison.
“Maybe…?” Celeste prompted, leaning out further to see his face. He snapped back into his in-control version of himself and he shrugged, turning to face her easily.
He wanted to take someone home with him, take them to bed. Have a night of meaningless, intense physical exchange with someone.
Olivia was not that.
“Maybe it’s exactly what it should be,” he said casually, turning back to the bartender and holding up a hand.
Sitting at the bar alone.
He felt out of place and out of himself.
“Bull,” Celeste said. “Maybe we’re just not drunk enough.”
He laughed.
“I’ll drink to that,” he said, ordering more scotch. Celeste quickly finished her first and ordered a second drink as well.
And they drank.
They slowed down after the fourth round, because it was evident that a
lcohol was not going to improve the music, nor was drunkenness going to make the evening any easier for either of them, and Troy spent the first evening he could remember sitting at the bar drinking while everyone else danced.
*********
He woke up hung over and fuzzy about how he’d gotten home the night before. It took him a minute to place the hotel, and then he checked the other side of the bed to see if Olivia was there.
She was not.
Neither was Celeste, which was a relief to his muddled brain. He knew better than that, even staggering drunk, right?
He got up and took a pair of aspirin, then showered and shaved, feeling much more human when he went to answer the door at Olivia’s knock. It made him happy that he recognized her before he opened the door.
“Coffee?” she asked, holding up a pair of drinks.
“Come on in,” he said, motioning with his head. He was grateful once again that it was his unshakable habit to keep his quarters spotless and without clutter. The bed was made and his clothes were hanging in the little cubby by the bathroom.
He scratched the back of his head as Olivia sat down on one of the beds.
“I thought I was too grown up for this, but you’re going to have to tell me what happened last night.”
She laughed, handing him one of the cups and crossing her legs as she leaned back on her palm.
“How much do you remember?”
“Sitting at the bar with Celeste, drinking hard stuff. That woman is a machine.”
She laughed again.
“You don’t have to tell me. Our rule is that I only drink one for every three of hers.”
He shook his head, which was a mistake, then sipped at his coffee.
“So what happened after that?”
The smile on Olivia’s face changed to a sort of afterglow.
“We stayed until Whisper was done. When they changed DJs, Earl came and found me and then we found you two, and we all decided it was time to call it a night.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you turn in early.”
She shook her head.
“No, nothing would have been as fun, after that. It was time to come back here.” There was a glimmer in her eye that she tried to hide behind her coffee. “I couldn’t sleep when I got back, though.”
“Oh?” he asked, trying not to ask what he wanted to ask. She grinned, devastating and happy, but not teasing.
“No. It was incredible. I’ve never felt like that. I don’t know how you guys could just sit. I spent hours lying in bed hearing music in my head and wanting to dance.”
He drank his coffee, finding nothing useful to say to that.
“So what do you want to do today?” she asked. He shook his head.
“Don’t know. What are Celeste and Earl doing?”
Olivia turned her face away as she laughed.
“Right now?”
He smiled and finished his coffee, offering to take her cup. She handed it over, leaning back on both arms, now.
“Celeste wants to rent a boat.”
“She what?” Troy asked. Olivia laughed and nodded.
“She says that Earl says it’s for the tourists, but she says we’re tourists, and that’s what she wants to do.”
“What do you do, out on a boat around here?” Troy asked. “Surely you don’t swim.”
Olivia wrinkled her nose at that.
“I don’t know. I think you take it in,” she said. He took a moment to consider that, then he smiled at her.
“I think I could manage a day out on the water with you,” he said. She flashed him a quick grin, then stood and went into the bathroom for a moment, dabbing at her cheeks with her fingertips.
“Okay,” she said, turning back around and breezing past him. She paused in the doorway to flash him another smile. “When Celeste emerges, I’ll let her know.”
He smiled.
“Yeah.”
*********
The afternoon on the water was wonderful. The boat captain took them on a long, slow cruise of the waterline, watching the city roll past in fair weather. At lunch, he brought out a buffet that included wine in plastic goblets, and Troy and Olivia sat out on the nose of the yacht, sipping wine, eating cheese, bits of meat, sandwiches, listening to the captain tease Earl for being Chicagoan.
They didn’t talk much, but they sat with their arms crossed behind each other’s backs, gradually getting closer until Olivia was leaning on his shoulder and Troy rested his cheek on the top of her head. Her hair smelled of hotel soap, and he felt an old, boyish thrill at the warmth of her back against his chest.
After a while, he reached across to play with a loose lock of her hair, and she reached up to take his hand in hers, pulling it down to rest between the two of them.
“I hate to break it to the two of you,” Celeste called, “but you work in an office.”
“What?” Troy asked, twisting to look back at her, but Olivia was already scrambling to her feet.
“I’m going to burn,” she said. Celeste was laughing.
“You’re looking a bit rosy, there, Troy,” she said. He glowered at her and followed Olivia back to the canopy at the back of the boat, where they sat comfortably enough for the rest of the cruise with Celeste and Earl.
*********
They got an early dinner right off the boat at a trendy restaurant downtown, and Troy could see that Olivia was only just barely able to contain her excitement about going back to the club later that night. He could see the opposite flickering across Celeste’s face, and he guessed that his own expression wasn’t much more subtle.
After the waitress took the check, Troy cast a glance at Celeste and reached over to take Olivia’s hand.
“Have a good time tonight,” he said.
“What?” she asked. He smiled.
“You would have a lot more fun on your own, and I have some work I could catch up on at the hotel.”
“No,” she said, frowning. “No, if you aren’t going, I won’t go, either.”
She wasn’t very convincing, and he grinned.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m glad you’ll have a good time. I just don’t get it, and with the line outside, someone should be allowed in who does get it.”
“I’ll split a cab with you,” Celeste said. He didn’t look over, but he nodded. Earl didn’t argue. Troy nodded at Olivia again.
“Have fun.”
“But…” she said.
“Earl is going, and you had a lot of fun last time. Go.”
“You’re sure?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll come see you when we get back,” she said. “So you’d better wait up for me.”
This surprised him, but he didn’t hesitate to agree.
“Come on, I’ll help you get changed,” Celeste said, grabbing Olivia’s bag and standing. “You don’t want to be late.”
“Are you sure?” Olivia asked again, now to Celeste as she stood. Celeste laughed and they were gone. Troy glanced at Earl.
“I got her, man,” Earl said. Troy nodded.
“Thanks.”
Earl shrugged.
“Some people get him, and some people don’t.”
Troy stood and got his things together as Celeste and Olivia came back from the restroom.
“You look beautiful,” he said to Olivia, then kissed her cheek. “Call me if you need me.”
She nodded, again distracted with excitement to be gone, and he winked at her.
“Have a good night.”
Celeste was already out the front door hailing a cab. He followed along after, watching Olivia and Earl walk down the sidewalk toward the club. It would be a brief walk, and they’d get there in time to get in, Earl promised.
“It’s just too weird,” Celeste said as she got into the cab. He nodded. Anything else, he would have just gone and made the best of it, but…
“It’s like a cult,” he said.
“I
don’t know where to look,” Celeste agreed. “I just don’t get it.” Troy laughed.
“It’s like a dance scene in a movie.”
“Are you admitting to watching that kind of movie?” Celeste asked.
“Come on,” he said. “Everyone’s seen one or two.”
“And which one or two would those be?” she asked. He laughed, looking out the window with a shrug.
“I don’t remember.”
“You think it’s dangerous?” Celeste asked, serious for a moment.
“It’s just music,” he said. “How would it be dangerous?”
*********
He waited up until two for Olivia, sitting in bed working on his computer, but she didn’t come. He fell asleep, and woke up three hours later to a frenzied tapping on his door. He shook himself awake and answered it.
Olivia kissed his cheek quickly.
“I know it’s late,” she said, a flurry of words, “and I know you were probably asleep, but I had the best time and I had so much fun. I’m going to bed now and I know you’re going back to sleep, but I wanted to say good night.”
She kissed his cheek again, then trotted down the hallway to her own room. He watched her go, bemused, then shook his head and went back to bed.
*********
Monday morning, the weekend felt surreal and improbable. He had a mountain of work to get through on a good Monday morning, and this one he’d missed everything from not only Saturday and Sunday, but Friday, too. Even so, he couldn’t focus.
“Hey Celeste,” he called as she was getting ready to leave for lunch. She came to lean against his desk.
“What’s up?”
“The club,” he said. “Whisper.”
She nodded with a quick shrug.
“Keep an eye on Olivia this week, will you? I know we said it’s just music, but…”
She gave him a little smile, one that might have been sincere and that might have just as easily been sarcastic, and she nodded.
“You know she’s going to talk about it.”
He nodded.
“I know. Just… withdrawal, anything like that. The only thing I can come up with is that they’ve made music into a drug, but that doesn’t make any sense, right?”
