Jane: Can you believe this?
Jane: She'll be painting unicorns on my door next.
Me: At least it matches your bedroom walls now lol.
Me: What are you up to tonight?
Jane: Besides wanting to set my bedroom on fire, nothing.
Jane: You?
I hesitated before I replied to her.
Jane and I told each other almost everything. It was how we coped with our overbearing parents. We had to have each other’s backs and vent to someone who could relate to our problems. I was tempted to tell her about my new job but couldn't bring myself to send the text once I had typed it out.
I deleted it and started again.
Me: Also nothing.
Jane: Mom told me she put you on for the ticket booth this Saturday. That'll be fun.
Me: I'm beyond thrilled for it…
Jane: Lol. I'm going to bed. Night x
Me: Night, Jane x
I tucked my phone away and had another sip of my drink. Tapping my fingers on the side of my glass to the beat of the music, I looked out across the packed club until a young man slipped into the opposite side of the booth, flashing a smile.
"Hey," he said, brushing a hand over his shortly shaved hair. His eyes lingered on me.
"Oh, um, I'm sitting here with someone. They'll probably be back soon." I smiled politely, trying to hide the urgency in my voice.
He relaxed into the seat, making it clear he wasn’t moving any time soon as he winked.
I looked around for Jen.
"You looked a little lonely so I thought I could keep you company," he said in a voice that was slightly lilted.
Irish?
He rested his elbows on the narrow table, making me sit back further.
"Well, thank you, but I think I'll be okay." I smiled once again but suddenly felt tired. The long shift was finally taking its toll. Huffing a laugh in subtle bewilderment, I blinked dizzily and reached for the drinks so I could leave. Except my hands bumped the underside of the table instead.
"You don't look so good.” His voice was suddenly much closer than before.
He had moved to sit closer, but I couldn’t move to create space. My muscles weren’t cooperating as I struggled to keep my eyes open.
A sickening, uneasy feeling swirled around my stomach as the heavy weight of realization settled into my head. I looked at my drink, at the bubbles rising within it. Something small had just finished fizzing in the bottom of the glass.
He leaned closer to my ear, bringing a palm to rest on my knee before he slid it higher. “I could make you feel better,” he murmured.
I groaned, trying again to create space between us, but everything was a struggle. My body was going limp, and I couldn’t think clearly. My hearing and vision were warped, and I could almost taste the bitter scent of alcohol on his breath as he pushed the same hand between my thighs.
My eyes slipped shut as I wished for it to stop. When I opened them again, my vision slowly blurred into focus on a pair of silvery blue eyes looking right back at me. It was like gazing into storm clouds or standing beneath a frozen lake with blue fissures in the ice.
Or both.
