by Alex Rosa
Chapter 9
Standing outside the nightclub waiting for my brother and his crew has me on edge. I watch handfuls of beautiful people slip inside of the swanky club behind me. It all feels out of my league, especially when I know I should be studying the mechanics of the sodium-potassium pump in the human body.
Today has been an all-around distracting experience from the moment I woke up. I had my soccer game today, and sure enough Josh and his bestie, Blake, where high in the bleachers watching. Even from the field I felt like I could see Blake’s confident half-smile and twinkling jade-green eyes.
I wasn’t playing my best, but at least we won. I was so frazzled by the experience that I decided not to face my brother and Blake after the game. I settled with a text message, saying Thanks for coming, see you tonight. Which, even for my standards, seemed mildly cowardly.
On top of everything, Tucker couldn’t make it. I still made him come to my house and choose my outfit, which he gladly obliged before heading off to his own dinner plans.
The dress Tucker picked feels far shorter than it was before we left my house. I tug down the little black dress; while peering at my black high heels, my knees go a bit wobbly from the sight. The ground looks so far away.
I’ve never been known for my balance.
Nervously, I look to my right at my teammates: Vanessa, Jennifer, and Ashley, who are giggling together, already creating game plans for the evening. They look like naturals in their short clubbing dresses and high heels.
Vanessa’s green sequined dress is eye-catching and accentuates her womanly hips. Jennifer’s fire-engine red halter dress puts her perky chest on envious display, and Ashley’s dark purple, over-the-shoulder dress looks ready for the runway. It’s obvious they came here on a mission. I knew this when they looked elated that I asked them to join me tonight.
“Skyler, what are you doing over there? Come here!”
I turn to look at Jennifer, whose matching red lips are spread into a confident grin.
I take a step closer to them and smile weakly, wondering how tonight will go, wishing Tucker was here to calm me down.
I get the feeling my nervousness might be obvious as Jennifer turns to face me, causing her blond curls to bounce. “You look hot, Skyler. I told you that you had amazing legs! When’s the last time you were out? You never come out with us.”
I run my hand through my overly blow-dried hair, and my tone is quieter than I would have liked. “I haven’t been on the market that long.”
Meaning, I used to have an excuse not to go out.
The shrug that accompanies my response has my three friends’ smiles slipping from their lips, and I know that my past weighs heavy on most people who know about it. So in a quick mandatory gust of confidence, I continue, “But I think it’s about time I get my party on, don’t you?”
Thank goodness my friends take that as a green light. All three of them jump with glee, and I find it contagious as a smile spreads across my lips.
“Looking like that, you shouldn’t have a problem,” Vanessa quips. She gives my skintight sweetheart dress a once-over.
Jennifer chimes in, “I think a round of shots is in order when we get inside. Skyler, where are your hot brother and his friends?”
Convincing my three friends to come out tonight was easy when I pointed to my brother in the bleachers of our game this morning, especially with Blake right next to him. I let out a sigh. “I don’t know where my brother is.”
Ashley, who’s a friend to be sure, but always seems to have a hidden agenda in some way or another, says too silkily, “So where’s your boyfriend?”
The statement sours my expression. “Richard isn’t my boyfriend.”
Jennifer and Vanessa laugh in unison. I watch Ashley’s smile slip into a sinister one as she puts an auburn tendril behind her ear.
“My sister has a boyfriend, and I don’t even know it?”
The squeals that emerge from my friends are downright embarrassing as I turn around. My brother looks sharp in a dark maroon dress shirt, open at the collar and matched to black slacks. His tall frame and slicked-back hair make him look not only like a young professional, but a young professional looking for a dangerously good time.
“Josh! I don’t have a boyfriend. You know that,” I blurt out.
I peer over his shoulder to see three men I don’t recognize lingering behind him. Blake isn’t one of them. A sense of disappointment flits over my body, but I catch it and take a deep breath, realizing I should feel relieved.
Before I know it, my brother looks over my attire and twists his mouth in disapproval. “I can tell you right now that I don’t know how I feel about that dress. It feels wrong to let people see my little sister like that.”
I decide to ignore his statement, and tug him over to my friends.
“Josh, these are my friends from the soccer team. Jennifer, Vanessa, and Ashley.”
As the previous peak of his brotherly annoyance is forgotten, he plasters on a wicked grin I wish I never had to witness, and I realize this hanging-out-with-my-brother thing might be tougher to get used to than I thought.
I watch the introductions, and I swear my friends have no shame as their cheeks pink with each flashing smile.
I take a step back to let his friends introduce themselves.
Brandon, Kevin, and Tyler could be carbon copies of each other if they really tried. Sure, Brandon has dirty blond hair with a mesmerizing grin, Kevin’s messy mop of brown hair looks to be styled in perfect disarray, and Tyler’s curly blond head of hair makes him look adorably boyish, but they all seem to be the same type: young professionals who probably have a slew of expensive suits in their closets, and little black books filled with girls’ names extending to Volume II. But who am I to judge? My friends seem happy to make their acquaintance.
Tyler is the funniest of the bunch. He’s quick to capitalize on the sibling awkwardness as he darts his eyes from me to my brother. “Josh, I can’t see the family resemblance. Your sister is much better looking than your ugly mug.”
Josh jabs him in the arm, which instigates a series of over exaggerated giggles from my three friends.
I let out a sarcastic laugh as I move to shake Tyler’s hand, and I find his sprite-like stare comfortable. He may be good-looking and charming, but I find the feeling a relief in comparison to some of my other boy encounters as of late.
“Skyler!”
I turn around to see Richard walking up the sidewalk, and I’m unsure if I’m happy to see him. I smile regardless, because I know everyone is watching.
Rich looks sharp in a dark charcoal shirt that matches his gray eyes. I take in a deep breath as he approaches. I’m about to say something, but his expression has me halting my words.
“Skyler, you look good.”
“Just good?” I joke.
Rich’s eyes drag over my body again, as if paying attention to the finer details, and I see him gulp. “More like amazing.”
“You look good, too. I don’t think we’ve ever been dancing together.”
“You never let me take you out, remember?”
He’s right.
“So, am I allowed to call this a date?” I shake my head, and he chuckles. “Well I figured I’d ask. So this is a friends’ thing, then?”
I nod, noticing that Rich is staring at my lips.
On cue, my hand is grabbed from behind, and I’m yanked toward the doors.
“C’mon, Skyler, we have shots to take and dancing to do!”
I shrug while keeping Rich’s attention for a second longer, and then stumble toward the door, making eye contact with Jennifer, who smiles with blatant mischievous intent.
When she tugs me closer, she whispers, “You’re single, right, Skyler?”
This feels like a test.
I take in a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Her red lips widen into a grin. “Good. Then the first round is on me. You have to be my wing-girl.”
&nbs
p; I peer behind me at Rich, who is already engrossed in conversation with Ashley. I remind myself that what I see doesn’t matter.
When we enter the club, the music engulfs me as the bumping bass of the alternative beats reverberates through my chest. I get used to it after a moment, and the atmosphere shifts into a wonderful underworld.
The nightclub is more impressive than I anticipated. I link arms with Jennifer, and we follow close behind my brother and his friends. My brother is already taking a liking to Vanessa as he points at the decor, and gets close to her face to tell her about the club.
In the center of the club is a grand medieval-looking chandelier, equipped with dimmed flickering lights that provide a wonderful contrast to the vintage look everywhere else. The venue seems similar to what a speakeasy might have been like in the twenties, but combined with the multicolored lights, blinking strobes in periodic corners, and the throngs of people, it all makes for an interesting, modern establishment. It exudes an edgy, sexy, and inviting tone. Everything I’m not.
I generally make it a point not to ask too many questions about my brother’s job, more because he prefers I don’t ask about his clients, but as we step into the reserved VIP booth, I’m tempted to ask whom he’s representing now.
I take a seat between Jennifer and Vanessa. The secluded corner makes it hard to see the dance floor, but we are above the crowd with a view.
A waitress places a tray of shots on the table, and Josh’s friends hoot and holler at the arrival. Before I can decide how I want tonight to be paced, Jennifer grabs two of the shots and hands one to me. The liquid is amber in color, and I assume it’s whiskey.
Everyone leans in to grab theirs, and through hooded eyes, I peer over at Rich, who’s already staring at me. I flash him a smile and shrug, wondering what I’m supposed to do, or if I have to do anything at all.
As I bring my shot glass up to join everyone in cheers, my life feels surreal, and before I bring the shot to my lips, my mind is flooded with all the things I should be doing, like studying.
“None of that, Skyler!”
I don’t give Jennifer the credit she deserves as a friend, because I used to think I was never good at having girlfriends, but I seem to be doing pretty well.
Jennifer waves a brightly colored nail in my face, nonverbally telling me to brush all wayward thoughts aside. She knows my overanalytical mind. She’s seen the same stark expressions during practice or in the locker room. She knows.
Satisfying her expectations, I grin and clink my glass with hers. I decide to wash any stressful elements from my brain, and vow that tonight is for me. I deserve this.
We all take our shots, and the gasps that come immediately after downing the liquor are my favorite parts to witness.
Once Jennifer puts her glass down, she grabs for both Vanessa’s hand and mine, pulling her away from my chatty brother.
“Let’s dance!” Jennifer shouts.
I don’t know what has gotten into Jennifer, or maybe this is how she always is when she’s out. Regardless, I follow suit and take mental notes.
I look back and see Rich getting up from his seat to follow me.
The corners of my mouth rise as I hit the crowded dance floor. The vibes feel right, and for the first time tonight, I feel excited. This normally isn’t my thing, but there’s something to be said for nights out like this as the sound of the bass vibrates over my skin.
Jennifer grabs my hand, twirling me away as she lets go, her laughter setting the mood. The loud music and the ever-expanding crowd make me feel like we’re in our own world.
Vanessa and Jennifer take the lead and let the music dictate their movements in what I guess would be described as dancing. I’m such a homebody at heart, but decide to go with it. I close my eyes, still feeling the whiskey warming me from within, and I let my hips sway to the beat while my arms move upward toward the sky, feeling the music.
The dark flashing light makes for a nice veil. Just in case I look like an idiot, no one will be able to tell from afar.
Closing my eyes helps, too, I make it a point to forget I’m in four-inch heels.
When I open my eyes, Vanessa and Jennifer are next to me, rubbing up on me. The explosion of giggles and continuous hip jiggling has me brimming with joy, and I realize that having friends like this is mandatory in a girl’s world.
I swing my stare up and notice that Rich is nearby. Instantly I wonder why he isn’t near me, but the answer is one I should have predicted.
Ashley is grinding on Rich.
I chew my lip, trying to manage dancing in heels while figuring out if this bothers me or not.
A tight grip grabs my wrist and pulls me off the dance floor as the second song is about to end. It’s Vanessa this time, and I see Jennifer ahead of her, leading the charge.
We make it to the bar, and as I look at my two friends, I feel out of place. They’re so pretty and refined. I, on the other hand, keep trying to tug down the length of my dress.
Pulling in a deep breath, I try not to sell myself short.
Jennifer leans in close, shouting over the music. “More shots! Whiskey, and then we move to tequila!”
I wish it were a question, but it is far from it. She flashes me a pearly white grin that practically glows under the black lights, and I nod in agreement. The next thing I know, a new shot of amber liquid is placed in my hand, and both friends raise theirs to signal another cheers.
“To more girls’ nights!” Vanessa says.
We swig back the liquid, slamming the empty glasses back onto the counter, which are then refilled. I watch my friends grab for another, and again, I mimic my mentors. My body doesn’t have time to digest the previous shot of whiskey as we skip cheers and shoot the liquid. The first shot earlier was shocking; it burned my throat and slammed into the basin of my empty stomach. Now onto my third one, it is starting to taste wonderful, like Hot Tamales candy.
As we place our empty glasses back on the bar, I’m relieved to see them stay that way, at least for the time being.
Vanessa wipes the corners of her glossy lips as she lets her mouth spread into a smile, eyeing me. “I hope you don’t mind me telling you that I think your brother is beyond dreamy, Skyler!”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “I guess I don’t mind.”
The idea of waking up tomorrow morning to Vanessa in my kitchen flashes through my mind, and I snicker at the thought, although it would be highly uncomfortable.
“What’s so funny?” Vanessa asks with raised brows.
Jennifer butts in, waving her hand between us. “She knows you’re not the commitment type, and he doesn’t look like it either!”
We all start to laugh, and I flail my hands in front of me, finding it hard to get a grip on myself. “I don’t even want to think of my brother’s sexual escapades or commitment issues, please. How about this? Vanessa, do whatever you want!”
Vanessa’s smile slithers back into view. “Thank God, because I might have to tap that!”
I cover my ears, even though I’m laughing. “Stop! Stop! Stop! I said do whatever you want, but I don’t need to know about your evil plans.”
On cue, my brother’s voice comes from behind me. “What evil plans?”
When I turn around, he’s accompanied by his curly blond friend, Tyler.
“No evil plans!” My high-pitched chirp is all too incriminating, and I realize the topic of my brother sleeping with anyone is just gross.
Josh raises a questioning brow but then quickly lowers it. He came here with an obvious mission as he extends his hand to Vanessa, whose batting eyelashes are a dead giveaway. She takes his hand with no words exchanged as he pulls her to the dance floor.
Tyler lingers behind and smiles, but shrugs, which confuses me.
“Josh told me I wasn’t allowed to dance with you,” he exclaims.
I’m in no way shocked by my brother’s direct order, and I grab for Jennifer next to me, whose ADHD is in full force. She is already eyeing
a boy across the bar. I tug her toward us, forcing her to stumble into his view, her lips twitching mischievously at the gesture.
I grin and turn to Tyler. “My brother is overprotective. Here’s another pretty girl for you!”
He lets out a deep laugh, shaking his head, but takes Jennifer’s hand. She shrugs as she follows him onto the dance floor, grinning like a beautiful fool.
Content by my strategic handiwork, I watch my friends having a good time, including Ashley. Although it sours my disposition to see her with Rich, I’m still happy I was able to invite them. Rich isn’t mine, and I won’t obsess over him.
My stomach tenses as I watch his hands grip her hips. I turn around and pretend it isn’t happening. I’m trying my best to be adult about this, so I do the only thing I can think of.
“Can I get another shot of whiskey?”
The good-looking bartender does it instantly, and with my eyes closed, I hand over my credit card and reply, “Keep my tab open.”
With that, I take the waiting shot and watch the bartender eyeing me curiously.
I must look like a rookie.
After the quick gulp and feeling of the wonderful burn, I realize something: If my brother won’t let his friends touch me, and Rich is distracted, then who does that leave me with?
No one.
I let out a sigh that feels as warm as my internal burn, fueled by my rising buzz. As I debate over ordering a steadier beverage like a vodka-Redbull, or rum and Coke, hell, even a water to keep me hydrated, sure hands come around my hips.
My fuzzy mind jolts at the contact and I swivel around, encountering eyes that remind me of lush fields of grass in the middle of spring.
“Blake!” I screech, and I’m rewarded with his all-American grin. My knees go weak and I use the bar to steady myself. “What are you doing here?”
He gives me a quick once-over and ignores the question. With one of his hands, he signals the bartender. The other is still placed possessively on my other hip bone, sending unexpected tingles down my legs. “Can I get a gin and tonic, please? Two limes.”
He waits for the drink to be served before he faces me. “I thought you might be happy to see me. Your boyfriend seems preoccupied.”
