“How do you get the bartender’s attention, then?” I ask him, leaning closer.
“Like this.” He takes a fifty from his pocket and holding it out as he nods toward the bartender. Apparently attracted by money like metal to a magnet, the bartender turns toward the man in the suit and gives him a smile.
“What would you like?” the man asks me.
I don’t normally let guys buy me a drink, but I’m strangely fascinated by him. “Vodka cranberry,” I say.
He nods and orders two drinks when the bartender comes over a second later. He turns toward me, smiling honestly, and leans up against the bar. “I’m Joe,” he says.
“Riley.” We shake hands.
“Are you here alone, Riley?”
“No. My friend is dancing.”
“Ah.” He nods at the dance floor. “Did she ditch you for some guy?”
“Not exactly,” I say, leaning toward him.
“How about you ditch her, then? Come dance with me.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Are you always this forward?”
“No,” he admits. The bartender comes back with our drinks. Joe takes them and sets them down in front of him as he pays. I turn away and watch the dance floor, trying to spot Lacey, but I can’t find her. When he’s done paying, he hands me my drink.
“To ditching friends,” he says, grinning.
“Cheers,” I answer. We clink classes and drink.
“Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor. I’m not sure what I’m doing, following this guy around and letting him buy me drinks, but I’m trying to have fun tonight.
I’m trying not to be myself. I want to forget about what my life is like for one single night and let myself enjoy dancing with a handsome man. It’s okay to let him buy me a drink, everyone does it. I can’t worry so much. I spend my life worrying about what’ll happen if I do something that I end up doing absolutely nothing instead.
Once on the dance floor, I press myself against him, moving to the music. He’s a surprisingly good dancer, moving his hips to the music, pressing me close. I love the feeling of being pressed up with other people, everyone moving together, everyone trying to have a good time. I take another big sip of my drink, letting the alcohol loosen me up.
We dance like that for a couple songs. Joe pulls me closer and I let him, enjoying the feeling of his hands moving along my hips. I want him to touch me and I don’t care who sees it. I want to feel sexy and alive, free for a night at least.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers in my ear. It’s lame, but I don’t care.
“Thanks,” I say over the music.
Just then, something feels strange. I can’t put my fingers on it. I feel dizzy, a little lightheaded. I probably had too much to drink too fast. Joe holds me tight against him, but I suddenly don’t feel like dancing anymore.
I look around the dance floor and let out a huge sigh of relief when I spot Lacey. She’s nearby though still with her bad boy. I pull back from Joe.
“I see my friend,” I say. “I’m going to check on her.”
He gives me a look then nods. “Okay then. Come find me when you’re done.”
“Sure.” I quickly turn and push my way through the crowd.
The dizziness is getting worse. It feels like everyone is moving in slow motion, like they’re all made of sludge and putty. My body feels heavy and strange. I finally make it to where Lacey is dancing with her guy, and she must see something in my expression, because she moves away from him instantly.
“You okay?” she asks.
“I feel sick,” I say.
Lacey frowns. She’s about my height, around five four, with long blonde hair and green eyes. Guys love her because she’s outgoing and fun, while I’ve always been the quiet and shy type. It’s almost a cliché, the two of us, but it works. Or at least it used to, back in high school, back before we become different people. Still, she’s a good friend, and she instantly leaves her bad boy to help me toward the bathroom.
I clutch onto Lacey, surprised at how hard it is to walk.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. “Did you have too much to drink?”
“I don’t know,” I say, and my voice is a slurry mess. “I went to the bar. Met Joe. We danced. I feel sick.”
“Joe?” Lacey asks, but I don’t really understand her. We make our way into the back of the club where the bathrooms are and we skip the line. The girls all yell and make comments, but Lacey tells them I’m about to puke.
“Go outside then!” one girl yells, pushing Lacey.
I stumble and nearly fall. Lacey grabs me, propping me up. I don’t hear what happens next, but eventually I find myself out in an alley next to a dumpster, propped up against the cold metal wall.