“Luke Poulos needs to get his ass over here.” Gwen finishes her drink in three sips.
“Maybe he’s out already.” Waverly’s busy flagging down one of the servers and doesn’t catch Gwen’s evil eye, but I do.
“For real, Waverly?” Gwen’s voice is shrill. “It’s not like he’s out with anybody else.”
“It’s okay!” The idea of Luke with anyone else makes my heart sink. “We’re not even really together now. We just had one date, sort of. I don’t know.” Suddenly, it’s too crowded in here. “He can do what he wants.” I resist the urge to check my phone again.
“Another round?” The girl bartender swipes our empty martini glasses and replaces them with three more glasses that are almost overflowing.
“Thanks.” I sip my new drink too quickly. I can feel the effects of the alcohol start to spread through me, start to cast a pleasant, blurry veil over my thoughts and my body.
“Oh! I forgot to tell you guys. I got an early acceptance letter for this summer program in New York,” Gwen pipes up. “It’s like an intensive nonfiction workshop type thing at NYU. Investigative journalism.”
“Gwen, that’s amazing! Congratulations!” I give her a side squeeze. “So you’ll spend the summer in Manhattan?”
“Part of it.” A shadow falls over her face for an instant, and then it’s gone. “I’ll come back toward the end of the summer. See if I can dig up a story that might be worth pitching to a real paper.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to be a reporter.” The back of my neck feels hot. Be careful around her. She could be dangerous.
“Please. Haven’t you read the Allford Gazette?” Waverly grins. “Allford kids don’t write half the good stuff. That’s all my Guinevere.”
Gwen blushes. “Should be an interesting summer,” she says, twirling her nose ring.
“Just don’t run into that ex of yours,” Waverly says dryly.
Gwen’s jaw hardens. “Why would you bring that up?” she snaps.
Waverly’s eyes widen. “Gwennie, I didn’t mean to—”
“Never mind.” Gwen cuts her off. “You should come with me, Elle. You could hang out with family—”
“And leave me in Miami all by myself?” Waverly pouts.
“Guys.” The thought of going back to New York makes my head spin. Or maybe it’s the booze. “I have no idea what I’m doing next summer. I don’t even know what I’m doing in class next week. So can I figure it out when we get a little closer, please?”
“You’d just rather enroll in summer session with Mr. Poulos,” Gwen teases.
I don’t argue. The thought of spending an entire summer with Luke, Miami at our fingertips, does sound amazing. The thought of doing anything and everything with Luke sounds amazing. I shudder, thinking about the way his lips felt on my skin. I want more of him. Now.
The house music shifts suddenly to a heavy, thumping bass. I can feel the vibrations of Jay-Z’s newest single, buzzing through the soles of my feet.
“Ohmygosh, I love this song!” Waverly tosses back her drink like it’s a single shot. “Let’s dance. No. Let’s go up to the roof!”
“You guys go ahead,” I say. “I’ll order another round and meet you up there.”
As Gwen and Waverly teeter off, I find my way to the bar. The club is starting to get busier, and the bartenders bob and weave expertly around each other, whipping bottles from the wall behind the bar and pouring perfect shots in a dance that seems almost choreographed.
“Get you something?” The female bartender makes eye contact and offers a quick smile. There are angel wings tattooed across her chest.
“Yeah,” I yell back. “Um, three of those blue and green—”
“I got you.” She whirls around, tosses three frosted martini glasses on the bar, and starts to pour. “You come here a lot?”
I shake my head. “First time.”
“Huh.” Mid-pour, she stops, lifting her bottles upright. “Are you like an actor or something?”
“Nope. Sorry to disappoint.” I stare down at the bar, letting my layers dust my cheeks. It’s dark in here, but is it dark enough to keep this girl from recognizing me?
“That’s so strange. I could swear…” The bartender cocks her head to one side, her lips pursed in a pout. “Are you sure? CSI, or something?”
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. Please. Please don’t recognize me.
“Can you, um, have those drinks sent up to the roof? I’m not sure I can carry them all.”