Fable
The room is small and dark, jam-packed with people. I can hardly move, it’s so crowded, but I don’t care. I’ve got my arms above my head and my hands in the air, the lights that hang over us flashing in time to the beat of the music. I’m dancing my ass off, my hair sweaty, my legs aching.
Such a great night, I’m overwhelmed with how much fun I’m having. I feel fucking fantastic.
Jen is dancing with me and she’s surprisingly good, full of an innate rhythm that encourages me to step up my game. A group of guys crowded around us earlier, trying to get us to dance with them, but we turned into each other, like we were on some sort of date. I wanted to discourage them and she did too, so thankfully we were on the same page.
We danced together, bumping and grinding against each other a little bit because she’s buzzed and so am I, though not on alcohol. For once in my life, everything feels right on track. Like nothing is standing in my way.
I’ve turned into a total cliché again. But this time I’m a positive one. I might start singing cheesy eighties anthems because I feel like nothing’s gonna stop me now and all that crap.
The guys step back and form a semicircle around Jen and me as we dance, hooting and hollering and generally acting like perverts. We encourage them, swaying our hips, thrusting out our chests. I’m not even dressed that sexily. I went for casual with my jeans and a cute plaid shirt I found on clearance at Target, leaving it open with a white tank underneath.
Casually cute, I guess, because who am I trying to impress? Originally, my guy isn’t supposed to be here.
He still isn’t.
Another song comes on, this one slow, and everyone on the floor seems to vacate all at once. Jen and I send each other a silent message and we exit the dance floor as well, heading toward the bar. Jen scoots her skinny ass in between a crowd of people and somehow garners the bartender’s immediate attention, ordering us both a glass of ice water.
When she finally hands me the drink I chug it, the cold water soothing my parched throat. The lights have gone completely dim as a few couples slow dance together, most of them hardly moving, their feet shuffling as they focus on groping each other instead.
I’m thankful for the break but I also miss Drew. Seeing the dancing couples lights a deep yearning within me. We’ve been dancing for over an hour. I thought he would be here by now, so where is he?
“I need to get going soon.” Jen pushes her damp hair away from her forehead. “Is your boyfriend coming to get you or what?”
“I thought so.” I glance around the room but I can’t see anything. It’s too damn dark.
“Huh.” She sips her drink. “No way am I leaving you here alone waiting for him. I can drive you home.”
“You don’t have to—”
Jen cuts me off. “I picked you up, I can definitely take you home. Don’t worry about it.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I nod once, my shoulders stiff. I refuse to be disappointed. I also refuse to text him. He knows exactly where I’m at so what the hell is taking him so long?
Maybe his dad called him again and needed to talk. Maybe he was going through a tough time over his dad’s anguish with the divorce and I’m being completely selfish wondering where he is. Maybe…
“Let me finish my drink and I’ll be ready to go,” Jen says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Okay.” I drain my ice water and set the glass on a nearby table, ignoring the girls sitting there who shoot me a dirty look. Though it was probably rude, what I just did, I couldn’t care less. I’m irritable.
They’re whispering loudly, probably griping about me and hoping to catch my attention, but I ignore them. I don’t need a bunch of catty bitches’ crap tonight.
The song ends and the lights brighten, flooding the dance floor. One of the most popular songs on the charts comes blasting on and everyone heads out to the floor, including Jen and me since we got caught up in the mass wave.
“One more dance,” she shouts at me and I nod in agreement.
The insult girls are dancing close by, shooting Jen and me rude glares, and I put my back to them, trying my best to enjoy this last song. My nerves are shot, though. The mean girls killed my buzz and I should’ve insisted on leaving before the song started.
But Jen’s into the music, a giant smile on her face as she waves her hands in the air like she just don’t care, yo.
I smile at my own mental joke and throw my hands up in the air, mimicking Jen. The music slowly starts to work its magic, taking me over until all I can feel is the pulse of the bass and the heartfelt lyrics running through my mind. I’m about to be completely swept away with the chorus when I hear one of the mean girls gasp behind me.