“That's not gonna happen.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Get your clothes off.”
Oh. So I wasn't going to get to change in private. Well, okay. I mean... I could do it. She did it. I tried not to think that she did it because she was literally perfect as I reached to take of my shirt and pants.
“Okay, thong works,” she said, nodding at my near-nudity. “Okay, I want to be surprised,” she said, handing me the dress and clapping her hands. “I know it's going to be perfect, but I want to see the big reveal so I am going to wait in the living room. Be careful not to get your makeup on it,” she warned and was out the door.
I looked at the dress. It was electric blue and looked like it was going to fit like a second skin. Two small straps. The bust slightly scalloped so that it would dip a bit between my breasts. I turned it, finding a huge cut out in the shape of heart in the back. So, apparently, I wasn't allowed to wear normal panties... or a bra.
I took a deep breath, deciding to try to go with the flow, taking off my bra, and sliding in. Luckily, there was a small shelf bra inside, providing a bit of support and keeping my nipples out of sight. I shimmied the dress up, slipping the straps into place, finding the hem didn't even come half way down my thigh.
I took a deep breath, moving the remaining dresses off the back of the door so I could get a look in the full-length mirror attached to it.
And... damn.
I wasn't one for vanity (in fact, it was usually crushing insecurity), but Shay had worked fucking magic. My hair fell in straight sheets around my shoulders. And the makeup that seemed like it was going to be caked-on and over the top, was actually pretty understated. My lids had cat-eye liner, my lashes darkened to make them pop, a tiny bit of pink to my pale cheeks, and some bright red lipstick.
The dress looked great, hugging of bust and hip, making them the highlights, rouching slightly so you couldn't see every movement of skin underneath.
“I'm growing old out here,” Shay called and I shook my head, turning off the straightener, squirting a spray of the perfume Jake had bought me over my chest, and opening the door.
“Daaaaammn,” Shay said, smiling and nodding.
“Holy fuck, Ava, that you?” Jake asked, walking to stand next to Shay, fully dressed in slacks and a button-up.
“Why are you dressed?” I asked, suspicious.
“I'm coming with.”
“Oh, like hell...”
“Hey,” he said, holding up a hand. “I was told that if I am in your life and I care about you, I have to do better. So I think that means being a chaperone to make sure you don't get stupid drunk and go home with some sleezebag.”
“Oh, bullshit. You just want to convince Shay to come back here with you.”
“Yeah, well, that too...”
“You're impossible.”
“Hey it works out better,” Shay insisted, grabbing her purse and pulling out two wallets, one small and one normal. She took out cash, and ID, a condom, and two sticks of gum from the big one and put them in the small one. “He can hold our wallets,” she said, handing hers to him and he easily tucked it in his pocket.
“Fine,” I said, going to find something small to put my stuff in. Minus the condom. Add in a single serve packet of aspirin. “We ready?” I asked, reaching for a coat.
“No coats,” Shay and Jake said at the same time.
“It's cold out!” I objected. “I don't want to stand in line in the middle of fall in glorified underwear.
“Oh, honey,” Shay said, shaking her head, “we won't be waiting on any lines.”
And we didn't. As soon as we got out of the cab, Shay grabbed my hand and pulled me to the door, giving the security guard a soul sucking smile... and in we went. They didn't even bother to check out Ids.
“First is first,” Jake declared, a hand at each of our backs, guiding us toward the bar. “Drinks.”
And then I was plied with liquor.
The night was a bit of a blur after the first two drinks. A shot (Jake insisted we take before anything else, toasting to a good night), then a martini. Jake disappeared and Shay dragged me to the dance floor, promising to keep the creeps away.
Which, to her credit, she managed to do.
Jake showed up on occasion, handing Shay and me drinks. First something pink and fruity. Then something blue and fruity. Then something green and melon-y.
And I danced.
Now, to be perfectly honest, I had never been much of a dancer. Okay. I had never been any kind of dancer, period. Except in my room while I was getting dressed. Never in public. Never in a huge crowd of bodies crushing in on me. But the music was throbbing, hard and sexual, vibrating through my feet and upward until I felt it reverberate in every cell in my body. That, mixed with the gloriously swirling feeling in my head... and, well, I was dancing.
Time got lost. All that mattered was the music and Shay laughing and spinning around with me, and the floating feeling of my soul. Everything felt light and unimportant outside of our little circle.
Some time later, late enough for me to start to feel my shoes biting into my feet, Jake showed up with another drink. Orange and citrus-y. Then he was dancing with Shay, talking into her ear from behind and she turned her head to answer.
Two minutes later, I was being pulled out to the cab, and driven back to my apartment. Where, apparently, we were having some kind of after party. Ten people I didn't know, men and women alike, were crowding around, drinking liquor Jake pulled out of the cabinet, dancing to the music Shay had put on.
I kicked out of my shoes, going to the couch because the world was doing some spinning thing that made me feel like I couldn't stand on my own two feet anymore. I sat there, looking around in a weird sort of detached entertainment for a long time.
Then I was reaching for my phone.
And I dialed Chase.
I got the machine.
Drunk and undeterred, I listened to his outgoing message and waited for the beep. “I don't care what Dr. Bowler says. It feels real,” I said, my words coming out in a voice that was mine, but wasn't... slower, slightly slurred. “And you can be as mea... stop pawing at me!” I growled to some random guy who sat down next to me and put a hand on my hip. “I'm talking to Chase's machine, leave me alone,” I said to him, thinking my voice sounded super stern, but the guy only laughed. “So, anyway, Chase... I don't care if it's fake, you know? It's okay. I'll deal with that... okay, buddy,” I said, slapping his hand hard enough to make my palm smite despite the alcohol, “get off my couch. Off. Get off. You ruined my message!” I accused, ending the call, unnecessarily angry at the stranger.
“Come on, baby, you look ripe...”
“I'm not a piece of fruit,” I objected, then broke off into a fit of giggles.
He was attractive. Around my age with brown hair and big brown eyes, sharp jaw. He was dressed in a blue button up and jeans. Attractive in a very ex-frat boy kind of way.
A quiet settled then, me looking around, swatting his hand away when it kept reaching out to touch me. Then, what felt forever later, but couldn't have been more than a ten minutes, I broke the silence.
“Listen, I know you like my blue dress,” I said, shaking my head. “It's very nice. But it's not mine.” In my drunk logic, that was somehow supposed to deter him.
“Well then maybe you should take it off,” he suggested.
“I can't.”
“Why not?”
“Because I only have a thong on,” I admitted, completely unaware how bad a thing that was to say.
“That sounds sexy. Why don't you show me?”
“Why do you keep touching me?” I asked, looking down at his hand on my thigh.
“Do you like when I touch you?” he asked, his hand snaking upward.
“I don't even know you.”
“Makes it even hotter, don't you think?”
I squinted at him, “I don't think I work that way.”
“Oh, baby, I can make you work that way.”
“You're not allowed to call me that,” I objected.
“Why not?”
“Because Chase does.”
“Who the hell is Chase?”
“I am,” Chase's voice said from in front of me.
I turned my head and there he was, in a blue suit and white shirt. From my angle, he looked like a giant: strong, intimidating. It didn't help that he was glaring, positively glaring at random frat guy.
“It's Chase!” I declared, pointing, as if it wasn't obvious. “You're here!”
“Yeah, baby,” he said, giving me a short glance, then turning back to frat guy. “Get your hands off of her,” he said, his voice low, scary. “Take a look at her. Does she really seem like she is any condition to consent?”
“She's fine, man. Who the hell are you?”
“He's Chase,” I supplied, un-helpfully.
“Get lost,” Chase said, reaching down to grab the front of the guy's shirt and hauling him up.
“Alright, alright. Fuck. She ain't worth all this trouble.”
“Hey!” I objected, lowering my eyes at him.
“So,” Chase said, sighing a little, “did you have fun tonight?”
“I had a lot to drink,” I said up to him.
“Seems like it,” he agreed, moving down to take the space the ex-frat boy had vacated. “So where is your friend?”
“Shay?” I asked, looking at him, his dark scruff, his bright eyes.