She watched as Brielle turned pink, but did as Jane asked. Jane’s eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of her friend. Brielle looked very pretty … if she was going to a job interview. She was wearing a deep violet collared shirt tucked into a tight, grey high-waisted skirt. On her feet was a pair of black pumps.
No, this would not do. Not at all.
“You look great, Brie, really you do,” Jane said, her eyes still on the outfit, “but we’re going dancing, you know? Elle, do you think you could show Brie some of your dresses?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Brie replied in slight discomfort. “Elle’s taller and smaller than I am. I don’t know if they would fit.”
“Trust me,” Elle said, wrapping her fingers around Brie’s wrist and tugging her gently in the direction of the closet.
Jane turned back to Sophie. “So,” she began. “Do you know how you’re going to do your hair?”
“I was thinking I could leave it down,” Sophie said, following Jane into the bathroom. “Something simple, but do really smoky eyes and red lips.”
“I love it,” Jane agreed.
“The only problem,” the red head continued, “is that I never really learned about the whole makeup thing. You know, picking the right colors for my skin tone, putting it on correctly.”
Jane waved her hand, dismissing Sophie’s doubts. “Don’t even worry about that,” she said. “Elle knows everything there is to know about makeup. Besides putting on eyeliner and mascara, I’m just as clueless as you are.” She opened her mirror cabinet and pulled out her straightener. After resting it safely on the sink, she plugged it in. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll be right back to straighten my bangs.”
As Jane walked to the closet, Brielle and Elle were walking out with three or four potential dresses for the brunette. Jane closed the closet door behind her in order to give herself more privacy while changing. She already knew exactly what she was going to wear tonight, as she normally did when planning something in advance. Tight, hot pink—not one of Jane’s favorite colors but one that flattered her skin tone nonetheless—and dangerously short, with a sweetheart cut that showed a classy amount of cleavage and held up by black straps, the dress was one of her favorites and fit her like a dream.
When she emerged from the closet dressed up, a long, low whistle broke her out of her thoughts of how she would do her hair.
“Short enough, Cabot?” Elle teased, a mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes.
“Hey, I work my ass off for these legs,” Jane said, “or do I have to remind you that I played six years of soccer before coming here?”
“Of course not. Everyone knows you were the youngest player ever to make the team.”
“Wow.” Sophie looked at Jane with awe in her eyes. “That’s amazing.”
“She’s the youngest sweeper Ignis has had in a century,” Elle pointed out. “Also the best.”
Jane shook her head, feeling her face heat up. “How’s Brie doing?” she asked.
“Just fine.”
“She’s trying on different dresses in the bathroom,” Sophie explained.
It was another twenty minutes before Brielle finally came out. She decided on a brown dress that wasn’t too tight but revealed that, yes, she did indeed have curves. There were three thin black straps per shoulder, and black polka dots throughout the dress itself. It wasn’t too short either, reaching just past the middle of her thighs. She looked retro-cute, even with the glasses.
“Brie,” Jane breathed with a smile. “You look great!”
“I feel so … beautiful,” she said, her face turning pink.
It was then that Jane realized that Brielle might not get compliments all that often, or if she did, didn’t believe them. Jane promised herself that she would make sure to change that and that her flattery didn’t sound like pity. Luckily, Jane had a sincere reputation so hopefully Brielle wouldn’t think twice about believing her.
“You are,” Jane told her.
“And the cute heels you brought with you totally match the dress,” Elle added. “Guys, I am so excited. I really, really need tonight, you have no idea.”
“I think we all need tonight,” Sophie said.
Jane’s smile only deepened. “Okay guys, we have forty-five minutes before nine thirty,” she said. “Let’s get our hair done, do our makeup, and have the time of our lives.”
It was exactly nine thirty when the four girls departed from the Ignis Dorm. Jane was utterly delighted that they were on time with her self-imposed schedule. As they proceeded to cross the large, circular driveway, she wished she could be like Elle and dance in sandals rather than high heels. She didn’t have to worry about changing her shoes once they reached Ultra, which meant it was one less pair Jane had to carry in that dark red soccer bag each member of the Ignis soccer team received. Also, sandals were way easier to dance in than regular heels and Elle never had to worry about falling in them since she rarely, if ever, wore heels in the first place. She was already five foot ten and didn’t want to add any more inches on her already staggering—for a female, anyway—height and throw off her sense of gravity. She wasn’t as clumsy as Jane, of course, but in heels, Elle wasn’t exactly well-balanced.
Except when dancing.
Just like Jane was only she’s most graceful when lost in the music.
“So,” Sophie said in a hushed whisper, even though there was no reason for it since they weren’t breaking curfew. Yet. “We’re not renting a golf cart because we’ll be back at the academy past curfew, right?”
“Yup,” Jane replied, zipping up her orange Anaheim Ducks hoodie that definitely didn’t go with her outfit but was her go-to jacket no matter what the occasion—except for formal ones, like school dances—and somehow always managed to keep her warm. She was always cold unless the weather was above seventy degrees. But, like those ratty Converses she had had since Year Two that she happened to be wearing now, Jane would be taking it off once they reached their destination.
“No one’s going to, like, jump us or anything, right?” Sophie asked, looking between Jane and Elle, her red hair swishing around her.
This caused Elle to throw her head back so her blonde curls bounced in the slight breeze Catalina provided and laughed. “God, Soph,” she said, between bouts of laughter, “you sound just like Jane.”
“Hey,” Jane said in her strictest voice. “My previous concerns were legit, just like Sophie’s are.”
“Yeah, whatever Newport Beach.” Elle rolled her eyes and looked over at Sophie. “Don’t worry, Sophie. Catalina is actually really safe; it’s like a tight-knit island community. You’ll be fine.”
“Plus,” Brielle added in a demure voice, “you’re a physical. You could probably kill someone if you wanted.”
Jane blinked. Was it her imagination or had Sophie paled substantially upon hearing Brie’s comment? It was probably the lack of light, the shadows playing tricks on her. That was it.
The walk to Ultra wasn’t bad. How many times had Jane and Elle slipped through the black iron gates, which were actually spaced out enough to the point where all four girls could fit through one right after the other without trouble. The far side was never watched by the security guards and the surrounding trees that helped keep the academy secluded from curious passersby only added to the darkness the night provided. From there, they followed the slope down until they reached an intersection with stop signs and continued forward until Jane broke away from the group, leading them over to the man-made path.
“If we stay on the road,” Jane explained over her shoulder to Brielle and Sophie, “it’ll take us longer to get into town. This trail is kind of steep, but we’ll get to Ultra in ten minutes tops.”
“Jane makes us take the long way back though,” Elle said, bringing up the rear. “You know, since there are street lights and everything.”
The pathway that led into town was rather steep, which made it even more difficult to walk on since it was composed of dirt
and had no handrails. It cut through greenery—not a forest by any means, but definitely nature—so the girls had to be careful about getting dirt on their exposed ankles and calves. The moon was about one-third full, providing enough light at just after nine thirty for them to walk without tripping over an unfortunately placed rock or twig.
Emerging from the path, Jane and Elle began taking off their jackets and wiping their legs to discard any dust that might have accumulated during their walk. Sophie and Brie followed suit on both counts.
“All right,” Jane said once she stood up straight. “When you’re finished, give me your jackets and shoes so I can put them in the bag. Put on your heels. Ultra is only a block away.”
The businesses on the island were run by native families, all of whom were warm and friendly and remembered their names. Café Steam, the popular coffee shop on the island, knew that Jane liked her hot chocolate with extra whip cream without her having to tell them, and EasyBurger, a ’50s style fast food place without a drive-thru, had fries that not only passed McDonalds in taste, but they were actually healthier. Jane never felt guilty when she indulged in them.
Even Ultra was family-run. It was Catalina’s only nightclub that catered to eighteen year olds rather than twenty-one year olds, like the other three clubs on the island. However, the age restriction at Ultra didn’t stop a lot of the girls from AckPack—Ultra wasn’t Jane and Elle’s little secret, after all—dressing decidedly older in order to get in since everybody knew the bouncers there never carded their patrons, not even at the bar. The family was some island celebrities originally from England who wanted the peace and quiet Catalina offered. At least, that was what everybody said. It was one of the only businesses here where most of the employees weren’t related to the Miller’s—the family that owned Ultra—but were treated fairly well on account of how well-paid they were. At least, that was what Liv, a bartender, had told the two last year. She was actually a Miller herself, but didn’t run the club. That job was given to her older brother, some snotty nineteen year old Brit who went to Oxford or Cambridge or some other snobbish English college. Or so Kiki, a waitress, said. There was a good chance Kiki was somewhat bias because on one of the rare occasions he visited Ultra, she offered to buy him a drink and he flat out rejected it, saying that he wasn’t interested, and not only that, but he was only nineteen and couldn’t legally drink here anyway.
“Ready?”
Elle’s voice interrupted Jane’s thoughts. With one swift glance at her companions, she saw they were all decked out in heels rather than sandals, and jackets were nowhere to be found on their person.
“Let’s go,” Brielle said, a sparkle Jane had never seen before embedded in her honey-brown eyes.
7
Sophie tried to keep her mouth closed upon entering the swanky nightclub because she didn’t want to look like a dweeb. That didn’t stop her eyes from widening in absolute amazement at the sight before her, however. She had never seen anything like Ultra before.
For one thing, the building was small and square-shaped, stuck between a house that belonged to a psychic and a bakery that had long since closed for the night. If someone passed by Ultra during the day, they probably wouldn’t recognize that it was a nightclub, probably wouldn’t realize it was the hottest place. Tuesday nights happen to be ’80s Night, where people dressed up in ridiculously styled get-ups to get in for free until ten; Wednesday nights are Lady’s Night, so ladies don’t get charged an entrance free until ten; Thursday nights, it’s Student Night, there’s no fee for students with a student id until ten; and, of course, it’s the place to be on Friday and Saturday nights. The club was closed Sunday and Monday. Sophie learned all of this before entering the establishment from a rather excited Jane who seemed to ease her nerves by talking.
It was a quarter to ten and there was already a line at the door. Instead of waiting in that line though, Jane led them to the front.
“I put our names on the list,” she explained. “I called just after Sophie agreed to come.”
Sophie watched as Jane turned to face the bouncer and gave him one of the most charming smiles Sophie had ever seen. She said a few things to him—probably who they were—and then handed him a fifty dollar bill. Immediately, the trio protested Jane’s generous payment for all of them which she quickly waved away, a gesture Sophie was beginning to realize was Jane’s usual dismissing hand wave.
Sophie still didn’t believe they would be allowed in. They were all sixteen and seventeen years old, and despite the ample cleavage and nice amount of leg their four dresses revealed, she honestly believed the club staff would see right through them. But to Sophie’s utter surprise, the bouncer returned Jane’s smile, removed the velvet rope blocking potential guests from entering, and ushered them all in. Apparently boobs were the new means of identification.
After a quick stop at the coat-check where Jane dropped off her bag, the four headed into the main room. The club itself looked somewhat like Sophie imagined: the lights dim, the music loud—the current song was an upbeat Britney Spears number—and the dance floor packed. The bar itself was tucked in the back corner of the room and manned by only two people from what Sophie could see and already crowded. Besides liquor, sweat stained the air, but Sophie preferred that to the fruit-scented cigarettes and weed she had heard about from other club-goers. Thank God smoking anything in the club or twenty feet surrounding the club was prohibited—or so said the signs on the walls. The population of the club was generally composed of teenagers who managed to sneak in to about twenty-five year olds, which was a relief since she couldn’t see any perv forty year olds hanging out near the walls with a drink in their hand just watching the girls dance, the way she saw in movies. There was also a large chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling, a decoration that was so out of place it somehow fit in with the hip style.
“Let’s sit down,” Jane said, heading over to an empty, tall white table. The tables were few and far between but after more searching, Sophie realized there was an attached room hidden behind a white curtain—probably a VIP room. She was starting to see that people really didn’t come to Ultra to socialize; rather, they came to dance. And possibly drink. Probably a mixture of both.
“I’m going to get us drinks,” Elle said. She hadn’t even sat down. “And no, Jane, you’re not paying. First round is on me. What are we having?”
“Just a water,” Jane said over the music.
“I’ve always wanted to try a rum and coke,” Sophie said.
“After watching the entire Sex and the City series, I want a Cosmopolitan,” Brielle said.
Elle smiled so her nose scrunched. “I’ll be right back,” she said and then disappeared into the crowd.
“They’ll really sell her alcohol?” Sophie asked, leaning closer to Jane so Jane could hear her better.
“They have before,” Jane replied with a shrug. “It depends on who’s bartending, really. She’s made friends with a majority of them, but I’ve never seen the tall guy before. He is a guy, though, so she might be able to use her feminine guiles to charm him.” Her eyes glanced between Brielle and Sophie. “So what do you guys think so far?”
Neither girl responded for a moment.
“I think I’m still taking it all in,” Brielle replied finally, her honey-brown eyes flitting around the room. It was hard to decipher, at least for Sophie, what was behind those eyes, whether she was enjoying herself or not.
“I like it,” Sophie said after Brielle finished. Her eyes, unlike Brielle’s, remained focused on Jane. “It’s new. I like adventure, so it’ll be fun to explore. Let loose.”
“I’m sure you’ll both have super fun,” Jane said. Sophie didn’t understand how the blonde made the phrase super fun sound genuine, but somehow, Jane did. “But just keep a few things in mind. Number one, please, please, please don’t get drunk. We did walk here and I don’t want to babysit you, but I will if I have to. Number two, I’ve read plenty of Cosmos where girls
leave with a guy and end up raped or murdered but usually both, so unless we know the guy, don’t go off with anyone. And finally, if there’s some douchebag guy who won’t leave you alone, tug on your ear.” Jane demonstrated on her own ear. “One of us will save you.”
Sophie burst out into laughter causing both Brielle and Jane to smile but also confused.
“Jane, you’re probably the most interesting person I’ve ever met,” Sophie explained. “You seem to be really organized with everything. I mean, you have rules for clubbing. That’s great!”
“Well, better safe than sorry,” Jane said. “Someone has to hold things together.”
“But I bet you’re a good dancer, right?” Sophie folded her arms on the surface of the table and leaned even closer to Jane.
Jane looked away, but a healthy red flush tainted her high cheeks. “I do all right,” she murmured. “Nothing like Brie, of course. I’m not on the dance team or anything.”
“Oh.” Brielle’s voice was small and she looked down, turning pink. Sophie could see that Jane’s compliment had impacted the brunette positively though.
Jane glanced over her shoulder toward the bar. “Where is Elle with the drinks?” she asked more to herself than to her companions. “It never takes her this long. Must be that new bartender.” She turned back around. “Well, what do you say? While we wait for Elle, let’s go dance.”
Sophie smiled, her heartbeat increasing due to excited anticipation. “I thought you’d never ask,” she said with a brilliant smile.
Once Jane insisted she, Sophie, and Brielle hit the dance floor, the three began to move their bodies to the rhythm. Sophie glanced over at Jane and then to Brielle, who was rigid, almost robotic. Wasn’t she supposed to be on the dance team? After Jane left to check on Elle and the status of their drinks, Sophie closed in on Brielle. “Hey,” she said, and though the music was loud and her voice was low, Brielle could hear her. “Are you okay?”
Brielle pushed her eyebrows together and tilted her head to the side. “Yeah,” she said. “Why?”
Stranger Series Box Set Page 6
