Spread (A Club Deep Story)

by Penny Wylder

  I need you. Parking lot. Hurry.

  “Cosette,” I say gently, “let’s go home.”

  “No!” she practically spits the word in my face. “I don’t have to do what you tell me to. I don’t have to do what anybody tells me to because I’m a fucking adult, got it?”

  Shit. I close my eyes. This isn’t just a wasted Cosette. This is the Cosette that calls me sobbing because she’s made a bad decision that she can’t take back and doesn’t even remember making. I love my best friend, and she’s the brightest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met. With a tendency to self-destruct if she’s upset about something. Which means that letting her go with Randall, even if she was sober enough to consent, is a really fucking bad idea.

  “No, sweetie,” I say, “I can’t tell you what to do. But I’d really love it if you came home with me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m not okay, and you’re not gonna be the one who makes sure I’m okay, okay? Randall is gonna make sure I’m okay.” She turns to him, planting a kiss on his lips, and he takes full advantage, spinning her against the car and starting a full on make-out session.

  I grab his shoulders and pull him off her. “Get the fuck off her. She’s not sober enough to say no, so she sure is hell isn’t going with you.”

  Randall sneers at me, “Are you her mother? You don’t think she’s going to love every second with me? I’ll make sure she has a real nice time. And if she doesn’t remember some of the things that happen?” He shrugs.

  “You’re an asshole,” I say.

  “Stop it!” Cosette screams at me, “Just stop it. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Libby. Randall is helping me.”

  “Oh really? How is he helping you? Other than using you for sex while you’re drunk?”

  She gets in my face. “He’s going to help me be better. He’s going to help me make more tips, show me what the people want. I’m going to be the best dancer in there and Randall is going to make sure of it.”

  I take a deep breath, desperately trying not to scream at her. But she’s wasted, and logic isn’t going to work here. “I can’t let you do this, Cosette. It’s dangerous and unprofessional.”

  Cosette bursts out laughing. It’s a cackle that cracks across the parking lot, loud and brassy. “Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t have any right to judge me. I know you’re fucking the boss. I know you’re fucking Julian fucking Rivers. I saw him at that audition, and of course he was watching you. Everybody is always watching you. And it was MY AUDITION. You were supposed to just sit there and support me but you had to take some for yourself didn’t you? You always have to take some for yourself. You just can’t let me have this one thing. And now you can’t even let me fuck the boss just like you. You don’t want me to have any of the special treatment you’re getting because you’re selfish. Fuck off, Libby.”

  She collapses against the car, suddenly crying after her outburst, and Randall moves to put her in the car. I step between them, staring him down. “I swear if you touch her you will never have children or proper sex ever again. How many times have you done this with her?”

  He smirks at me. “More times than you want to know. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. After all, didn’t you hear us when you were home?”

  I think I might throw up. He was in my apartment, taking advantage of my best friend. I’m going to rip his head off. “If you know what’s good for you,” I say with more calm than I feel, “you will back the hell up.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asks.

  Just then I hear footsteps on pavement, and I feel my shoulders relax. Julian. I look back at him, and he takes in the situation in a glance, that piercing observation taking in the state of both Cosette and Randall. “How many drinks have you had?” He directs the question at Randall.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “The hell it isn’t. You’ve got car keys in your hand and it looks like your about to drive off with one of my employees.”

  Randall rolls his eyes. “You can stop with the act, Rivers.” He gestures in the air. “The precious employees. We all know what the dancers are here for. You’ve got yours,” he points at me, and then he points at Cosette, “and I’ve got mine.”

  If there were a look that I would call thunder, it would be the one on Julian’s face. “You are fired. Because of your behavior you will receive no severance, and if you ever set foot in my club again, I will call the police to have you removed. Leave. Now. I would recommend not driving in your state, but you’re a grown man, and you can make that choice yourself. But if you’re open to advice, don’t be an idiot as well as an asshole and take a cab.” And then he looks away from him, completely dismissing Randall as if he never existed. He turns to Cosette, now crying hysterically, crumpled against the side of the car. “We’re taking you home.”

  “No!” Cosette struggles as Julian tries to lift her to her feet. “I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to go with her.”

  Julian glances at me, and I sigh, “I’ll explain later.”

  “Where’s your car?”

  I point across the lot. He nods, and then, without warning, scoops Cosette up and puts her over his shoulder. She fights him the whole time, but she doesn’t land any kicks. I know just how strong those arms are, and there’s no escaping that grip. He can take the punches she’s throwing at his back. I unlock the car for him, and he lays Cosette across the back seat, and she stops fighting, at least a little bit. She’s still crying and mumbling.

  A screech of tires sounds behind us, and I turn to watch as Randall’s car peals out of the parking lot way too fast. I look at Julian, and his face is hard. “He made his choice,” he says, though I can see the concern on his face. Randall may be a complete dick, but I wouldn’t wish him dead. I sigh, ducking into the driver’s seat, mentally preparing to get Cosette into the house and into bed, just like I have dozens of times before. I startle as the passenger door opens and Julian gets in, and he grins while I stare at him.

  “What?” he asks. “You didn’t think I would just leave you alone after that, did you?”

  There’s a warm glow in my chest, spreading from his words. I shake my head. No, that’s not like Julian. It will be much easier to deal with this if I’m not alone. I take a deep breath and start the car, pulling out of the parking lot and toward home.

  8

  It’s not an easy task getting Cosette into the house and into bed. Julian helps with the first part, and I do the second. It’s a familiar routine of undressing and tucking in and turning off the lights. I leave a glass of water by her bed, and the four pain relief pills she’s going to need for the hangover in the morning. I’d bet money that she doesn’t make it to work tomorrow. I can’t imagine recovering from a binge like this and going in for a full shift of dancing. That combination only ends in one way: vomit.

  I shut the door quietly, and go back into the kitchen where Julian is waiting, arms crossed. “You can bet every member of the staff is going to get an explanation about the purpose of the dancers in the club, and what they’re not there for.” I’ve never seen him look angry like this.

  “Randall is a dick, but I can’t imagine anyone else at the club doing what he did?”

  “Well I’m going to make sure of it.”

  I nod. “Good.” I step into the circle of his arms, and they’re comforting. I like the way I fit against his chest.

  “Is she going to be all right?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I say. “She does this sometimes.”

  “Just does this?”

  I get myself a glass of water too. “Yeah. If she’s upset or sad about something she’ll get really drunk and make bad decisions. I usually end up getting a phone call at four in the morning, so it’s nice that I was able to stop this.”

  Julian gives me a hard look. “You’ve done this how many times?”

  I laugh. “Too many to count. You get used to it. I knew something was wrong. I
t’s been wrong for weeks, but she won’t talk to me, has been avoiding me. I don’t know what to do or how to make it better.”

  “How long have you been friends?”

  I go into the living room and flop down on the couch. Julian sits beside me. “Forever,” I say. “We met in dance class when we were like five. Both a little weird and on the outside. We were just…friends after that. We never stopped.”

  Julian frowns a little. “I just ask, because you’ve told me so much about your life, but never about Cosette.”

  “Yeah…” With the state of our relationship so weird, Cosette has been hard to think about. I think back for something to tell him. “She’s my family. After my parents died, she was there for me the whole time. I don’t know where I would be without her. She’s gorgeous and unpredictable. You never know what she’s going to do, and that’s kind of great. Like when we were young and I was the lead flower in our ballet recital, she stole my costume. We didn’t find it until minutes before show time. I had so much adrenaline that it was the best I’d ever danced up until that point. She told me later that she did it on purpose, and now we laugh whenever it comes up.”

  He gives me a small smile. “Tell me more.”

  “She missed our high school graduation because she met this super sexy drummer and went to get high and make-out with him. The bitch,” I laugh, shaking my head. “I’d put her in my speech and everything.”

  “Speech?” Julian asks.

  “I was valedictorian. Oh, and last year she decided that she was going to move to Italy and be a model. I had a job with this fashion company for half a second and so it kind of took over her brain. I think she still has an Italy collage on her wall.” I look at Julian, but he’s not smiling. “What?”

  He clears his throat. “Well, those stories have something in common.”

  “Yeah, Cosette’s craziness.”

  “No,” he shakes his head. “The fact that she’s jealous of you.”

  I make a face. “That’s absurd. Cosette isn’t jealous of me. I’m nothing to be jealous of.” But even though I say the words, a sliver of ice goes through me. Her words in the parking lot ringing clear in my mind. She certainly did seem jealous. Of me and Julian. Of the fact that I have a job at the club at all.

  Julian chuckles. “I would disagree with that statement, but I want you to think about it. It’s not your fault that she’s reacting this way, but if you’ve never talked about this, never acknowledged it, and that’s the problem? It’s going to keep happening.”

  “Yeah.” I feel numb. Like someone’s plunged me in a tub of ice water.

  Cosette is jealous of me. Now that he’s said that, it seems like it’s been there in neon lights all along and I somehow managed not to see it all this time. And I’ve been so blind thinking something was wrong, that she was just being Cosette and that she would get over it. I’m a fucking idiot. And everything she said tonight, she believes that. She believes that I had no business auditioning for the club, that I’m getting special treatment because of Julian. And am I? I guess in a way I am, I hadn’t thought of the tips as special treatment—more of a way to get the club riled up—but I haven’t seen him tip any of the other dancers the way he does me.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

  He smiles. It’s a slow smile that makes my stomach warm. “Good. I was hoping to see you tonight, under better circumstances. But since we’re here…” He leans in to kiss me, and I can’t. I just can’t. I place a hand on his chest, and he freezes.

  “I’m okay,” I say, “but I can’t do this tonight.” After everything that Cosette said, he can’t be here when she wakes up. Or worse, she can’t wake up still drunk and find us fucking on the couch. What kind of friend would I be, throwing that in her face knowing that’s what’s bothering her? But I don’t know how to say all that to Julian. It’s not his fault. This is between me and my friend. So tonight, I’ll send him home, and we’ll deal with things in the morning.

  His eyebrows are raised in surprise. “All right.”

  “I have…some things to think about, and I think it’s better if she wakes up to just me.”

  “You kicking me out?” he says playfully, with a half-smile and eyes sparkling.

  Dread spreads in my chest. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

  He draws a finger down my cheek. “I’m teasing you, little dancer. I’m surprised, but I understand.”

  “Thank you.”

  I walk with him to the door, and he gives me a soft kiss goodbye. “I drove you here,” I say suddenly, realizing.

  “It’s pretty much the one reason cabs were invented.”

  It surprises a laugh out of me. “I guess that’s true.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks.

  “Tomorrow.” But as he walks away, I feel uneasy, like there’s something I missed that just changed between us.

  9

  I hear stirring from Cosette’s room when I come back into the house in the morning. She was still asleep when I left to get us our favorite hangover food—chocolate chip pancakes. I also bought a Gatorade the size of Arizona itself for her because she’s going to need it.

  Placing the pancakes on the kitchen table, I make a point of being loud. Rattling the silverware, making the plates bang on the table. Whatever natural sounds I can make to let her know that I’m out here and that I’ve got food. It doesn’t take long for her to emerge. She looks terrible, still in last night’s clothes with hair standing straight and make-up smeared, but her eyes are clear. So that’s a good thing.

  “You got pancakes.” Her voice is scratchy from all the crying that she did last night.

  “Yeah. And Gatorade.”

  She slumps into one of the chairs, pulling the massive bottle towards her. “Thanks.”

  I sit across from her, not encouraged by the awkward silence. I don’t know how to bring it up to her. What do I say? But I don’t have to. Cosette clears her throat after taking a bite of the pancakes. She gives me a smile that looks genuine, even if it’s tired. “I’m really sorry about last night. I was just really drunk. You know I didn’t mean any of that stuff.”

  “Of course not,” I say, smiling back. “It’s okay.”

  But it’s not really okay. Because I can feel the distance between us where it wasn’t before, and it’s been growing wider over the past few weeks even though I’ve been trying to ignore it. I’m not sure how to fix it? How do you heal something that’s broken like this? And might have broken long before you realized it? “You’re okay, though?”

  “Well, my head hurts like a bitch, but for the most part, I think I’m okay. I think I’m going to sleep more though. If I do, I think I’ll be able to make it to work tonight.”

  “Make sure you drink all of that,” I say, pointing to the Gatorade. “Throwing up in the cage wouldn’t be ideal.”

  She laughs. “No, it wouldn’t.”

  We lapse into silence again, and it’s too much. I can’t handle the awkwardness between us. I can’t do it. I don’t want to do it. “I have some errands to run. I’ll be back later, okay? Get some sleep.”

  Cosette gives me a small smile that seems almost shy. “I will.”

  I don’t have any errands to run. I don’t actually know where I’m going to go, only that I have to get out of the house. I jump in the car and start driving, barely able to focus on where I’m going. I’m feeling too much, too many thoughts running through my head. I end up at Lookout Mountain—a tiny mountain in the middle of Phoenix, and where I always used to come in high school when I needed to get away and think. But I haven’t been here in years. Not since my parents died.

  It’s not even noon, but the day is stifling, and I’m sweating long before I reach the top, but I push through. Things always seem more clear from up here. You look out over the city and can see the pattern. How all the streets fit together so people can find their way, and somehow you manage to figure out the patter
n that you’re looking for too. It’s always worked for me before.

  I plant my ass on a rock and look out over the city, the distance hazy with heat, and I let my thoughts run wild. How is it possible that I’ve been blind to something that’s been happening for my entire life? How haven’t I noticed that I’ve always put Cosette in my shadow? How the things I thought were just wild and crazy always coincided with something great happening to me? And am I shitty friend for never noticing that? Or is Cosette a shitty friend for letting the things in my life affect her so deeply? Is it really my fault that she does this to herself? Or are we somehow both at fault?

  And probably more importantly, how do I fix it? I can’t keep myself from doing the things I want to do because I’m afraid of hurting Cosette’s feelings. That’s no way to live for either me or her. But there has to be some kind of happy medium. What she said last night, about me taking over her audition. She is right. I only got up on that stage because I saw that she was struggling and I wanted to help her. I was never going to take the job. Until Julian.

  I groan, shaking my head. I was so caught up in him, and his insane offer of money that I pushed aside any doubts I saw that Cosette had. I saw that she wasn’t okay with it and I ignored it because I was happy. Well, that has to stop now. I love working at the club, but it’s just a job. And I’ll be damned if I let a job come between me and the one friend I’ve had forever. Is it fair? No. Nothing’s fair. But I refuse to believe that the only way I can be happy is working at Club Deep. If it is, then I need to broaden my horizons. A lot.

  Besides, now that I know that this job is messing with Cosette’s head so much, how could I ever be happy there? Yeah. I need to quit.

  And just like it’s always been when I come up here, a weight lifts off my shoulders like the mountain was ready to take it, ready to show me what I should do. The walk down the mountain is way easier than the climb up. Now that I’ve decided, everything feels…easy. I hope it stays that way.