Silver Lining

by E. J. Shortall

  Becki is not known for making impassioned speeches, so this has left me more than a little emotional. She’s right though; I’ve spent far too many years being smothered and controlled by David. I loved him, so didn’t really see it at the time, or rather I chose to ignore it. The fact is, David was always jealous and insecure, and whenever I would go out, which was hardly ever, he’d always act weird when I got home. I could tell he’d been brewing, wondering who I’d been out with, and what I’d been doing.

  In the end, I pretty much stopped going out. It just wasn’t worth the cold shoulder or attitude I endured when I got home. Other than Becki, Scott and a few work colleagues, I don’t have many friends. I never really got the chance to go out and socialise when I was with David. So tonight, despite my hectic day, I plan to enjoy being out with my friends, and see where the night takes me.

  As we enter the club and pay our entrance fee, I begin to feel a bit panicked. I’m not used to being in places like this, especially without David being by my side, so I slow my pace right down. I’m not sure I can do this. How pitiful is it that, at twenty seven years of age, I’ve never really experienced the club scene and don’t know what to expect. All my old insecurities come flooding back, making me wither away like an old, fading rose bloom. My earlier confidence from being all dressed up disappears, and all that’s left is a pathetic, trembling social outcast. Becki notices my reluctance to move further into the heaving masses of sweaty bodies and places her arm around my shoulder. “Ambs, are you okay?” She asks, sympathetically.

  “Yeah, it’s just… it’s been so long since I’ve been somewhere like this. I guess I’m just feeling out of my element and totally out of place. You know me, little Miss Paranoid. It feels like everyone’s eyes are on me, and I don’t like it,” I state nervously whilst biting my thumb nail.

  Becki spreads her arms out wide gesturing to the room around us. “Take a look around, Ambs. No one gives a shit about you, or me, or the guy standing over there near the stairs with his hands down his trousers.” She gestures to our left with her head. Leaning against the railing is a guy looking out over the sea of people, with his hands down the front of his trousers. Urgh, I do not want to think about what he may or may not be doing.

  “The beauty of somewhere like this,” she continues, “is that everyone is here for the same reason; to drink, dance and have a fan-fucking-tastic time. Don’t be thinking about what others think. Worry about what you’re doing, and how much of a good time you’re having.” She’s right. Everyone is doing their own thing; chatting, dancing and laughing, and no one is taking the slightest interest in me. I really need to man up and stop with the scaredy cat routine. I need to discover the new me, starting right now.

  With a tight smile and a deep breath, I look over to Becki. “You’re so right. I need to pull on my big girls pants and show this place what I’m made of. Let’s get a drink, and see where the evening takes us. I promise to be a happy reveller from here on in.” That’s all the encouragement Becki needs, and before I know it, she is dragging me towards the bar.

  We work our way through the club, heading towards the brightly coloured bar on the far side of the large room. Neon lights of all shapes and sizes adorn the back wall, along with a selection of bottles so huge it boggles the mind. As we near the bar, I note just how busy the place is and wonder if we’ll ever get served. There seems to be bodies everywhere. Leave it to Becki to get us through, though. If it were left to me, we’d still be way back, and nowhere near downing our first mood enhancing beverage. With some pushing, and lots of overly flirtatious eyelash batting from my supremely confident friend, we’re now not only at the bar, but sitting quite comfortably on two bar stools. Becki grabs the attention of the barman, and he makes his way over to us.

  “What can I get for you ladies?” he asks. Before I can answer, Becki is ordering us each a Vodka shot and a bottle of beer. I look at her with a ‘what the hell’ expression, and she returns the look with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

  “You’re going to start with a proper drink, missy, none of those girly, frilly things, or an oh so sophisticated glass of wine. We’re out to get hammered in style,” she says in all seriousness. A laugh escapes my lips, and I roll my eyes at her while shaking my head. She gives me a wink, then turns to pay for and retrieve our drinks. She hands me a shot glass and raises hers into the air. “To new beginnings, single life, and a good time.” With that, she tips her head back, and downs the contents of her glass in one gulp.

  Okay, I can do this. A bit of liquid courage should loosen me up and help me enjoy the evening. I follow Becki’s lead and toast to new beginnings. As I tip my head back and let the clear liquid invade my mouth and ease down my throat, I feel the burn and almost choke. The coughing and spluttering that follows shows me up for the lightweight drinker that I am. Becki finds this highly amusing and bursts into fits of laughter.

  She is still trying to compose herself when Scott appears at her side. “What’s so funny?” he asks, looking at Becki with an amused grin.

  “Well, you know how little Miss Prissy here hardly ever goes out? And what a lightweight she is when it comes to booze? Well, she just necked a shot and nearly died on me. It was the look on her face, though. It was priceless. A real Kodak moment,” she says, still laughing, and mimics taking my photo.

  “Hey, stop with the piss taking. I admit I’ve never been a big drinker, but I resent what you’re making me out to be. I’m not a Tea-total loser, and you well know it,” I pout and cross my arms over my chest like a petulant child. This just makes Becki laugh even harder.

  Pulling me into a hug, she giggles, “Oh Amber, Amber, Amber. I know you’re not a Tea-total loser, but let’s be real. I’ve seen you get pissed on a couple of bottles of Alco-pops before.” As I really can’t deny it, I nod and start laughing along with her. It feels good. I really can’t remember the last time I went out to just let my hair down and enjoy myself. I’m already starting to feel a slight buzz from the vodka when Becki hands me a bottle of beer. She demands that I drink quickly, so we can go ‘show them how it’s done’ on the dance floor.

  Becki turns to talk to Scott, so I lean back against the counter. While taking a sip from my bottle, I look out over the sea of people around the club enjoying the music and dancing across the floor in all manner of sexy and not so sexy movements. The beat of the music is uplifting, and the atmosphere is electric.

  A few minutes later, Becki and I are in the thick of the dancing masses, swaying, bumping and grinding, and despite my earlier reservations, I’m actually enjoying myself. The rhythm of the beat begins to envelop me, and I find I’m getting lost in the music. Becki is just as transfixed as I am, moving with her arms raised in the air, eyes closed, and swaying her hips in a seductive way. She’s certainly attracting a few hungry looks from some of the guys nearby.

  I’m beginning to feel rather hot and sweaty and could really use another drink. I glance over towards the bar to see if Scott is still there. I spot him casually leaning against the wall, watching us. He turns his head and begins talking to someone, before turning back to continue watching us. I glance to his left to see who he is speaking to, and Oh. My. God! I think my heart just stopped beating. Scott is standing next to the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He says something in reply to Scott, but his eyes seem to be fixed on me.

  “Bec, do you know who that is that Scott’s talking too?” I shout into Becki’s ear. She darts her eyes over to where Scott is standing, and a slow grin spreads across her face.

  Turning her gaze back to me, she says “That is Mr Sexy. He’s a good friend of Scott’s. They play football together. I should introduce you.”

  “Hell no! Are you crazy? After what I went through with David, I’ve sworn off guys forever.”

  “Whatever. Never say never,” she says casually, and then gets back to her grinding.

  Sneaking another glance over towards the bar area, I find Mr Sexy’s gaze still firmly aimed i
n my direction. His eyes, even from my position in the darkened room, are so hypnotising, shining like beacons. They draw you in and hold you captive. So whilst moving to the music and lyrics about there being something in the air, I let my inhibitions die a little and follow Becki’s cue, adding a little sexiness to the way I move.

  When the song ends and morphs into another, the pressure of those eyes on me becomes too much, so I turn away. I’m shocked to realise that whilst I was mesmerised by the god at the bar, a couple of guys had joined Becki and I on the dance floor. Becki was already putting the hot and heavy moves on the tall blonde one. The other, an almost bald guy from having his hair cropped so short, is looking at me like he wants to eat me alive and moves in a little closer.

  “Mind if I dance with you?” he shouts into my ear. It’s more of a statement of intent than a question though, because before I know it, he has his arms wrapped firmly around me. His rough hands skim down my back, and then rest dangerously close to my butt. He pulls me in close, too close, and starts moving his hips to the tempo of the music. I immediately stiffen and try to move away, but he just holds me firmer, inching his hands further downward. I hate the feeling of this guy’s hands on me and can smell his alcohol infused breath as he moves his face in closer to mine.

  Looking to Becki for help, I notice she and her partner have moved away. She is far too entranced in what she’s doing to notice me and the slime ball. Shifting slightly to my side, I look over towards the bar in the hope that Scott will see my distress, but he’s now talking to some blonde Barbie type, and Mr Sexy is nowhere to be seen. Shit. I guess I’ll just have to try and fight this guy off myself. As I’m trying to wriggle and writhe away from him, I continue glancing over towards the bar, listening to Nicki Minaj asking for a hero to save her, while hoping and praying that Scott will look over and come to my rescue.

  Suddenly, the guy stops moving and drops his arms from around me, looking over my shoulder with a cold dangerous glint in his eyes. A strange energy envelops me as a cold shiver works its way up the length of my spine. Mr Slime ball looks like he’s about to say something, but instead leans into me, his mouth close to my ear. “You’re not worth it,” he spits, and then moves off into the crowd. What the hell? Am I really that repulsive? Feeling relieved he’s gone, but strangely rejected, I decide I really need to get off this dance floor. I certainly don’t need any encores. As I turn around to head to the bar, I smack straight into a wall; not the brick and mortar type, but a solid slab of male hotness type. Mr Sexy from the bar type.

  I’m struck speechless, standing there with my hands on his solid chest, staring up at him like an idiot. Eventually, he bends forward and speaks close to my ear, “Are you okay? You didn’t seem to be too thrilled to be dancing with that guy.” As he pulls back, I get a closer look at his serious, almond-shaped, deep green eyes. Oh, those eyes. I could seriously get lost in them. They are so bright and hypnotic. I realise I need to say something to him when the corners of his mouth pull up and his lips press together, like he’s trying to repress a smile. Shit, caught staring at the hot guy. Could this be any more embarrassing?

  Clearing my throat and looking away from him, I let him know that I’m fine and thank him for rescuing me. I want to say more to him. I want to find out why he came over and what his name is. I’m also a little disturbed to find that I want to grab him and start pulling a few Becki moves on him. I mainly want to run, though, as fast and as far away as possible.

  Never have I felt such a strong attraction to anyone, not even David, when we first met. It scares the shit out of me. I’m so out of my comfort zone here tonight, and this is just increasing my awkwardness. I really don’t know what to say to him, or how I feel, or even how to react. Before I can think too deeply, he reaches forward and lightly takes hold of my hand before raising it up to his lips. He gives my knuckles the gentlest of kisses and asks if I would like to dance with him. I simply nod as I continue to stare into his eyes.

  His lips pull up into a smile as he drops my hand and snakes his arms around my waist to rest on my hips. Pulling me into him, he begins to sway us to the beat of the music.

  We continue swaying and moving together for a couple of songs without a word shared between us. Eventually, he spins me around, pulling my back flush to his chest, and angles his head so his mouth is near my ear. I just about make out, over the sound of the music, that he is softly singing the lyrics of the song. They’re declarations of passion and promises of having the night of my life. The feel of his breath on my skin, his husky voice and intoxicating scent, mixed with the words he’s singing, all have me fighting to breathe and make my knees go weak. This feels so good, wonderful even, and I find I don’t want it to end.

  It’s for that very reason that it has to. I pull away from him abruptly and excuse myself, saying I need to go to the ladies room.

  I quickly make my way across the dance floor, bumping into several people moving obscenely. Without stopping to apologise, I keep going. I need to get as far away from those deep penetrating eyes as possible.

  Grateful to find there is no line for the toilets, I lock myself in a cubicle. Taking a few deep breaths, I lean back against the door and try to control the trembling that seems to have overtaken my whole body. I try to rationalise the encounter with a self-motivated pep talk. He’s just a guy, a guy who asked for a dance whilst enjoying his evening out. No, he’s a hot, sexy, sinfully beautiful guy who asked for a dance. And oh boy, can he dance. I feel the blush creeping across my cheeks just thinking about his hips swaying with mine. And what the hell is wrong with me, rushing off to the toilets like some silly awe-struck teenager? I really need to get a grip.

  I try to remind myself of the purpose of the evening. I wanted to come out and enjoy the company of my friends (check), have a few drinks (check), maybe a bit of dancing (oh most definitely check), to put my past behind me, and start enjoying my new future. Hmm, that one’s not so easy, especially when guys are mesmerising me with their looks and sex appeal alone, when I swore I’d never get involved again.

  This really is nothing, I try to reason with myself, putting this whole encounter into perspective. He came and rescued me from a potentially difficult situation and asked me to dance. Nothing more, nothing less. He’s probably out there now, dancing with another lucky lady. Damn, why does that thought piss me off so much?

  I take a few more minutes to compose myself, and then open the cubicle door. Trying to cool down a little, I splash my face with some water, and then head back out into the club to enjoy the rest of my night. I’ll just make sure I stick by the bar from now on and decline any offers to dance.

  Back at the bar, I’m glad to find Becki has torn herself away from Blondie and is chatting with Scott. I squeeze in next to her, and go about trying to get the barman’s attention for another drink. Suddenly, a bottle of beer swings in front of me, nearly hitting me in the chest.

  “That’s for you,” Becki says as I take the bottle from her. “So, missy, what happened to you out there? One minute you’re getting your groove on with the bald dude, and the next you’re swooning over Cra-” At that moment, Scott interrupts Becki, asking her if she’ll be at his football match on Sunday.

  “Aww, does Scotty need his cheerleader there?” Becki questions in a singsong voice. “Should I bring my pom-poms?”

  “Does that mean you’ll be wearing a cute little short skirted outfit to go with them?” Scott asks, laughing.

  “No, I bloody won’t,” she says, elbowing him in the stomach. “If you want a proper cheerleading squad, I suggest you ask the Blonde bimbos to come along.” She jerks her head to the side, indicating the blonde that Scott was talking to earlier. She is now standing with another blonde, and they are both looking over at our little group, staring daggers at Becki and me. Becki looks over to them both, putting on a full fake smile, then rolls her eyes and turns back to Scott and I.

  “You know you’re the only cheerleader I want there,” Scott says as
he puts his arm around Becki’s shoulder and pulls her into him. “What about you, Ambs? Are we finally going to get you along to one of our games? You don’t know what you’ve been missing out on. Who needs Premiere League superstars and their egos, when you’ve got me to entertain you?” He bats his eyelashes at me as I burst out laughing.

  “I don’t know, Scott. I’m not really into sports and I still need to unpack this weekend.”

  Becki perks up all of a sudden and pulls away from Scott. She clasps her hands on my upper arms, holding me in place. Then, looking me directly in the eyes, she pleads with me to go with her to the game. “Please, please, please, Ambs. You’ve got to go. It gets so boring watching all those guys running up and down the pitch, getting all hot and sweaty. You can keep me company and help me shout at and take the piss out of this one,” she begs pointing at Scott. “It annoys the hell out of him every time. God knows why he keeps asking me along. I’m sure as hell not going to stop.” Something to do with the fact that he wants you but won’t admit it maybe? I think to myself and peek over to Scott. Yep, he’s got that look in his eyes again, the one that he only ever gets when he’s around Becki. God, I wish they would stop messing each other around, and just admit their true feelings for each other.

  “Well, when you put it like that, I guess I could come and keep you company. Don’t expect me to understand what’s going on though. I wouldn’t have a clue. The only thing I know is that there are two teams and a ball involved.” I laugh.

  We continue talking and laughing for a while longer, enjoying a few more drinks, before we decide we’ve had it for the evening and head home.

  ***

  After Becki and Scott drop me off back at my flat, I change into my comfy purple shorty pj’s, wash my face, and brush my teeth. In the kitchen, I grab a glass of water and gulp it down in one go. There’s no way I can cope with a hangover tomorrow, not with all the unpacking I still have left to do. I didn’t end up drinking that much, but still, better to be safe than sorry, as they say.