In the meantime, the girls have made their way to the small dance floor, where the first brave ones are already swaying back and forth. Jules starts to move to the beat as well, while Sophie stands there a bit uncertainly and looks around with wide eyes. Then Jules leans forward to whisper something in her ear and reach for her hands. Sophie laughs and blushes slightly before closing her eyes and slowly swaying to the music. It’s not actual dancing, but I can still tell that she seems to enjoy it because her smile gets wider by the second.
I still haven’t gotten around to learning more about her previous life. But as I watch her loosen up and eventually open her eyes to move more freely, I decide that I don’t have to. Of all people, I should know that the past already has enough damn power over us because it is just that: our past. So why poke around in it and open up old wounds when life is complicated enough as it is?
No. I won’t ask Sophie why things are the way they are. She deserves to be allowed to live the life she so desperately wants to experience. And fuck, if that includes dancing in a pub despite being only seventeen, then so be it.
EIGHTEEN
SOPHIE
Loads of people crowd the small pub, and I’m constantly grazed by an elbow or accidentally bumped by someone. But Jules’s laughter and the sparkle in her eyes are so infectious that I quickly put aside my initial doubts and now dance with her among all these strangers.
"Just imagine them naked," she said when I looked around uncertainly, afraid of embarrassing myself. With that, she had already made me laugh so much that I didn’t even need the imagination. Since then, I just dance. I move without knowing what I’m doing, but I don’t care. I also don’t care about the other people. Instead, I concentrate on this joy that flows through me because, at this moment, I feel as free as I’ve ever felt.
Every now and then, I look over at Cole, who’s sitting on one of the high stools at the bar. He’s drinking that amber liquid again, smoking, and watching us. He’s dressed in black from head to toe. The heavy boots, the slightly worn jeans, the tight-fitting T-shirt, and his black hair make him look mysterious and almost dangerous. The muscular arms with the countless tattoos amplify this impression even more. But every time our eyes meet, the left corner of his mouth lifts a tiny bit, making my heart jump.
I don’t know if he fits the common ideal of beauty, but when Cole smiles, his otherwise stern features soften, and he becomes more than just beautiful to me.
Jules’s hand lands on my arm and pulls my attention to her. "You like it?"
I nod before looking at Cole again. "Doesn’t he dance?"
Jules bursts out laughing, tilting her head back before looking at me again. "Cole and dancing? Never. I’m not even sure he knows how to pronounce it."
"Too bad." The words come out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
Jules’s grin widens. "Do you want to dance with him?"
Startled, I look at her and feel my cheeks grow warm.
"I can ask him," she offers with a wink. "Maybe he’ll make an exception for you."
Quickly, I shake my head. "No, it’s okay."
She shrugs. "I have to pee," she then says aloud. "Are you coming along?"
"No, I’ll wait here."
She nods before making her way toward the restrooms. I stand there for a moment, swaying to the music, but then decide to go to Cole instead of staying alone on the dance floor.
"What are you drinking?" I ask as I reach him while he sips from his glass.
He’s sitting wide-legged on the stool and looks at me, shaking his head after he puts the glass down. "You’re never going to stop asking questions, are you?" His voice is a little raspy, making the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up in an exciting, pleasurable way.
Lifting my chin a little, I return his gaze. "I’m just curious."
"Yeah, I guess you are," he muses. "It’s Jack Daniel’s."
I frown. "Jack… what?"
"Daniel’s. A Tennessee whiskey."
"May I have a taste?" I ask and take the glass from him as he hands it to me. The smell of the drink reminds me of the liquids my mother uses to soak her herbs in. It’s so pungent I scrunch my nose. "Is there a lot of alcohol in it?"
Cole grins. "Yeah."
I hold the glass under my nose again and then decide to just taste it.
The second the liquid touches my lips, I realize this was a bad idea. When I feel the sharpness on my tongue, everything inside me recoils, and I can’t help but instantly spit the whiskey back into the glass. A shudder runs through my body, and I want to wash my mouth out with soap.
