“Ella, I’m not mad, honest, I’m not, but what were you thinking?”
“I don’t know.”
“I mean really, Ella, why would you do that? You NEVER do that kind of thing, never. You won’t hardly even take an aspirin without having a thirty-minute debate with yourself about it.”
“I know. Seriously, I know.”
“Do you? Seriously, because-”
“Jen! Stop it! Stop, OK?”
That shut Jen up immediately, which was good. It was what Ella needed. She had always had a pretty serious need to please Jen, and she couldn’t think straight when she was yelling at her. Jen looked hurt, though, so much so that her bottom lip started to tremble, and that was absolutely not what Ella wanted. She thought about it and realized that she hadn’t ever actually yelled at Jen before; maybe hadn’t ever even raised her voice.
She sure had picked a perfect time for it, too. Way to wait until her bachelorette party to do a thing like that. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Jen, ever. It was just that she was tired and stressed out and confused. Not that it was OK to take any of that out on her best friend.
All at once, she felt very close to crying, and she laid her head down on Jen’s shoulders, shutting her eyes tight. She would remain that way until the urge to break into sobs passed, she told herself. That, and also the residual dizziness that must have been the anxiety medication’s version of a hangover.
“I’m sorry, Jen. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I shouldn’t have taken that pill, either. I was just so freaking nervous and I didn’t know what to do about it. Pamela told me it would make me feel better, less stressed, and it seemed like that would be better for everyone.”
“What do you mean, better for everyone?”
“Come on, Jen, I know I’m the weirdo on this trip. It would probably have been better for all of you if I hadn’t come at all, but it doesn’t matter because here I am. The idea of freaking out on the plane and embarrassing all of you was more than I could handle. I just wanted to seem normal. Like the rest of you.”
“Ha! I don’t know if you could call any of us normal. And I don’t blame you for it, you know? I don’t blame you for taking the Xanax, like, at all. I just wish you would have told me. I would have held your hand through it, you know? I really would have.”
“I know. I just didn’t want you to have to. Now, before I start crying, why don’t you point out some of the sites for me? Help me get to know the city. If I’m going to be here for the next three days, I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.”
Ella could sense that there was something different between the two of them now. There was a sadness in the air of the cab, one that felt so visceral to her that she wondered if the cab driver felt it as well. Was this the sort of thing strangers noticed, or was it only between the people afflicted?
The sadness scared her, made her wonder if there had been irreparable damage done in her friendship with Jen. Even after their arguments about Dax, she had never felt this kind of rift between them. Those kinds of arguments had always been resolved swiftly and moved straight into joking and wine drinking. This one, though, there were things that remained unsaid. Ella could feel it, and she knew Jen could feel it, too.
The thing was, whatever those unsaid things were, neither girl brought them up. Instead, Ella remained with her head on her best friend’s shoulder and let the sound of her voice soothe her. She watched in a semi catatonic amazement as the massive buildings of Las Vegas passed them by. It looked like there were replicas of half of the world’s impressive structures all right here grouped together. There was a fake Paris, a fake New York, and then there was the hotel where they were staying; the Venetian.
Ella was so grateful to arrive there that she had to fight back tears all over again. She was beyond exhausted and wanted to throw herself across her bed (probably without ever bothering to pull the covers back) and pass out for a couple of hours before whatever partying she was going to be subjected to.
That was literally the only thing she was thinking about, until they walked through the great sliding glass doors that served as entrance to the Venetian Hotel. Once they were inside, she was momentarily wiped clean of all thoughts that didn’t have to do with amazement. This was the most extravagant thing she had ever seen.
The entire thing was built around opulence, all rich golds and reds and blues and creams. It was designed to mimic Venice, a city she had wanted to visit for her entire life. This wasn’t really it and she would still want to visit someday, but it was still completely amazing. There was even a series of waterways that looked just like canals running through the place, complete with gondola rides.
“Oh my god! It’s like Venice! Jen, this place is modeled around Venice! Did you know?”
“Um, yes,” Jen said with a grin as she slung her arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close for a half hug, “I knew. That’s why it’s called the Venetian. I thought you would like this hotel best. And I figured the least I could do was find a place you would like if I was going to drag you to Vegas.”
“Jen, I love you. You know that, right?”
“You better. Let’s go find our rooms.”
They had been ushered up to their rooms by a hotel worker who acted like they were royalty or movie stars or something. Ella wondered if that was the way all of the hotel guests were treated, and decided that it probably was, and that she didn’t care.
She hadn’t ever been to a place that treated guests that way, and she enjoyed it (although she didn’t vocalize it; she was still on the fence about the Vegas thing). Once she was in the room though, a whole room to herself that was almost as big as her apartment, she let out a little squeal of delight. It was the nicest room she had ever been in!
The bathroom alone was the size of her kitchen back in Austin. It was a crazy beautiful bathroom, too. There was a stand-alone shower and a soaking tub, and even a TV. Who had a TV in the bathroom?! Apparently, Vegas did.
There was a sitting area and a king-sized bed that was, without a doubt, the most comfortable bed she had ever been in. She lay across it, her arms and legs stretched out so completely that she looked like a starfish, and sighed with contentment. She was still nervous about being here and dreading what kinds of situations she might find herself in, but for the moment, she was blissfully content.
The fog of the Xanax hadn’t really worn off yet and a good bed was pretty much all it was going to take to make her happy at that point. She looked at the bedside table to her right and saw that there was something that looked like a control panel on its side. All of the buttons on it were labelled, and when she pushed the one that said “shades,” blackout shades lowered from the ceiling and covered the room’s massive windows. It was as dark as night time. She only had time to think that she wished she had something exactly like them at home, and then she was fast asleep.
“Ella! Earth to Ella!”
“Um, open the door Ella. We know you’re in there.”
“Exactly! Playing dead, or whatever you’re trying to do, isn’t going to work! Open the DOOR!”
It was definitely not the most restful way to wake up, that was for sure. Ella’s eyes opened blearily, and her heart was pounding far too hard for comfort. She was afraid for some reason, and after a second she realized that it was because she had no idea where she was. It looked like she was in a black box, and although she was very comfortable and the air-conditioning in said box was amazing, she couldn’t figure out where that box was.
And, to make matters worse, there were people screaming at her to get up. Why would they want to do a thing like that? After she had finally managed to get some decent sleep? But they weren’t just any voices, and after another minute she recognized who they were. It was Jen and her not so nice friends, and they were pounding on her door because she was in a hotel room in Vegas for Jen’s bachelorette party. Ugh. That felt like a pretty high price to pay for a decent couple hours of sleep.
Sh
e thought briefly about just pretending not to be there until they went away, but she knew it wouldn’t work. After all, where the hell would she have gone? It’s not like she knew anyone in the city, nor was she the type to go out exploring all on her own. No, there was no choice but to go to the door, glance through the peephole to make sure it was really who she thought it was, and open her room and herself up to their scrutiny and judgment.
“Oh. My. God.”
“Jesus, Ella, have you looked in a mirror? You look even worse than you did on the plane, and I didn’t think that was possible.”
Pamela and Kristy were standing in front of her door, looking like sort of slutty movie stars. They also looked completely disgusted. Ella hadn’t bothered to look at her own reflection since before leaving for the airport, but she could only imagine by the expressions on their face that she was not looking good. Of course she wasn’t, especially not compared to these girls in their little black dresses and four inch heels, their smoky eye makeup and heavily hair sprayed blonde hair.
She, however, was wearing sweatpants and a men’s undershirt that was much too big for her. Never a huge fan of makeup (more because she didn’t know how to apply it than because she didn’t like it), the small amount she had attempted to apply before heading out her front door was long gone. She had a feeling there was some smudged mascara still hanging around underneath her eyes, but that certainly wouldn’t be helping matters.
She was struck by an urge to apologize to these girls for the way she looked, but she couldn’t find her voice to do so. This felt like middle school bullying all over again and the sensation was paralyzing. Any minute now they would throw a milk carton at her, which would hit her in the face and spill milk all down the front of her shirt.
When Jen, who had been struggling down the hallway after the two girls, pushed her way through them and got her first good look at the state Ella was in, she let out a deep sigh. But it was a friendly sigh, and she wore a smile on her face that let Ella know that she wasn’t mad.
Ella felt her uneasiness lift, but only a little. Pamela and Kristy were still looking at her like she was a hot mess, and that was something she couldn’t really ignore.
“Oh Ella, look at you! I’m gonna guess you were napping?”
“Um, maybe?”
“Um, definitely!”
“It’s just that I was still so tired from the whole plane thing and there are these amazing curtains and before I knew it, I was asleep!”
“The blackout curtains are amazing, I’ll agree. That being said, you’re in need of some serious work before we head downstairs. Come on, let us in and we’ll work our magic.”
That was when Ella finally noticed why it was that Jen had been a little behind the other two girls making it to her room. Her arms were completely full of stuff. It looked like she had at least six different outfits on hangers, along with something that looked like a tackle box, which Ella knew was full of her makeup supplies. This was no good. Ella knew exactly what this meant.
It was something Jen had been trying to do to her, off and on, since she was in middle school. As if reading Ella’s mind, Jen grinned widely. She did look super pretty. Her dress was just as short as her friends, but pink, and her hair was down in loose curls around her shoulders. She was definitely going to get hit on tonight, and she would flirt it up. Jen was like that. Even with a fiancé, she still loved the attention of men.
“Come on, Ella, you know exactly what’s coming. There’s no use in fighting it. I’ve come fully prepared, and there are more of us than there are of you.”
“Ugh, please no! You know I hate the makeover thing! Seriously, Jen, you don’t have to do this. I’ll make myself look presentable, I swear.”
“Nope! No time for that. We’re going to make you up Vegas style!”
* * *
“Ella! Do you have to walk like that? You look like you’re going to fall over any minute.”
“I bet I do, and I might just do that. I told you guys I don’t know how to walk in heels this high. I tried to convince you to just let me wear my chucks, but you said that was a no go. So here we are.”
“Your chucks?” Kristy asked with disdain, twirling a perfectly crafted strand of hair around her finger and looking both bored and pissed off at the same time. “What the hell does that even mean?”
“Her shoes,” Jen interjected benignly, too wrapped up in looking around her to really be involved in the conversation, “she’s talking about her Converse sneakers. She’s had them since, like, tenth grade. They’re pretty much more holes than show at this point, but she won’t throw them away.”
“Gross! You wanted to wear old sneakers? This is so totally not that kind of place. Look around you, Ella. Do you see anyone wearing old sneakers?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t. Does it?”
“Um, yes, that’s exactly what it means. Seriously, look at all of these gorgeous people. Don’t you want to be one of them?”
Ella had been doing her very best to avoid looking around her, but it wasn’t an option forever and with Kristy continually prodding her to check out her surroundings, she finally did so. It was an overwhelming scene, to say the least. Kristy had been right. Everyone around her was dressed to impress, each one of them presumably trying their hardest to outdo the one next to them.
She could smell about fifty different perfumes and colognes, all of them mingling together into one overwhelming scent. And what were all of these people doing here? What did they really want? The fact that it was the city of sin kept playing through her mind, and every person she looked at was someone who could be up to something devious.
Everyone was trying to get something. The people sitting down at the slot machines or one of what appeared to be thousands of gambling tables wanted money, that was easy enough. Ella did find herself wondering what their reasons for needing the money were, but there was no way she would ever know.
Besides, she guessed that people didn’t ever really need a reason to want more money. Others of them, the women cozying up to much older and clearly rich men, the men who beamed with the expectation of what they might be able to get some woman to do, those people were there for the sex.
She had no doubt that many of them were looking for drugs, too, but she had no way of identifying them. She had zero experience with drugs, aside from her reckless and unpleasant foray into Xanax use, but she was pretty sure that in the city of sin, there were going to be a whole lot of drugs flying around. And here she was, in the middle of it all, and totally out of place.
She had told Jen she didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb and she had meant it, but knew the brief cab ride tutorial on some of the more well-known landmarks of the city wasn’t going to make her feel like she belonged. It wasn’t going to make her look like she belonged, either. She just didn’t, and there wasn’t any way around that fact.
“Here, drink this. It’ll help calm your nerves.”
“Huh?”
Ella turned quickly, startled by the interruption. She turned a little bit too quickly, at least for the tall Maryjane heels she had on, and almost toppled over to one side. It was only Pamela, who deftly switched one of the drinks she was carrying to the other hand, that kept her standing upright, and she did so with a grunt of surprise and then a look of exasperation.
“Jesus, Ella! How do you get to this age without knowing how to walk on a pair of heels?”
“I can walk on heels,” Ella’s response was defensive, but also spoken in a weak voice that didn’t even sound believable to her own ears, “I’ve just never worn a pair quite this tall before.”
“Right. OK, maybe. But still, Ella! Haven’t you ever been to a cocktail party or anything like that? You look completely terrified.”
“I know, it’s just-”
“Fortunately for you, I’ve got just the solution.”
Pamela had a mischievous look on her face that instantly made Ella wary. Pamela was willing to talk t
o her at least, which was more than could be said for Kristy, which was sort of a blessing, she supposed. She didn’t want Jen to feel like she was her only source of companionship and entertainment over the long weekend.
She didn’t want to feel like a wet blanket. On the other hand, this was the same girl who had given her the Xanax, and look how well that had turned out. Maybe Pamela’s kind of solutions weren’t the kind Ella should be looking for. Pamela, who was watching Ella’s face intently as she thought this thing through, smiled and shook her head.
“Geez, don’t worry so much, OK?”
“Who said I was worrying?”
“Nobody needed to. It’s written all over your face. I don’t have another pill to give you, although the Xanax did keep you from freaking out, you’ve gotta give it that. I just brought you a drink, that’s all. To take the edge off.”
Vampires In Vegas Page 3
