ROWAN: Is it pathetic that I don’t like you being there without me?
I hesitated, taking a sip of my drink for liquid courage and typing out my reply.
MAX: You’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m yours.
Rowan didn’t immediately reply, and I hurriedly locked my phone, feeling foolish. I downed my drink and tapped Becca’s shoulder. She turned to me with a smile.
“Want to dance?” I asked her.
“Absolutely.” She beamed. We got to our feet, and I held my hand out for her. Hand in hand, Becca herded me towards the crowds of people all moving in time with the beat of the music.
“Who were you texting just now?” she shouted to me over the loud music, swaying her body back and forth.
“Who’d you think?” I smirked, grabbing her hips and dragging her in close to me.
“How exciting! What was he saying?” she asked, turning her back to me and pressing against me.
“I was just trying to persuade him to join us.”
Becca glanced at me over her shoulder. “Are you ditching me, Max?” she joked.
“Nah, don’t be daft. He wouldn’t come here, anyway. He wouldn’t have a good enough excuse to give his…” I trailed off and looked away from Becca’s sympathetic expression. We danced against one another for a moment before she tapped me.
“Those guys from earlier are watching us,” she muttered in my ear.
“Then let’s give ‘em something to watch!” I shouted, grinding harder against her as she rubbed her body against mine more forcefully. Totally immersed in the music, Becca and I gave it all we had.
Eventually the music changed tempo and Becca turned to face me, swiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She fanned herself and I leaned in.
“Another drink?”
She nodded enthusiastically and we wove our way through the crowds back to the bar. Waiting to be served, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I fished it out, the bright screen blinding me for a moment.
ROWAN: Stay there. I’m on my way.
“Fuck,” I hissed to myself, checking the time stamp on the message. Rowan had replied over half an hour ago, but I had clearly not had any signal by the dancefloor. Being underground as we were, it was patchy at best.
Becca leaned across the bar and shouted an order to the bartender before looking back at me. “Another vodka orange, is that alright?” She paused. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“So, uh, remember how I said I wasn’t going to ditch you?” I smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of my neck. Becca’s eyes widened and dropped to my phone.
“No way. He’s coming here?” she asked.
My phone buzzed again, and I frowned.
ROWAN: Where are you?
“He’s already here, actually.” I glanced over her shoulder towards the bartender who had returned with our drinks. Becca turned and apologised, before leaning in to shout.
“Actually, can I get one more?”
“Becca,” I sighed. “I can’t stay here with him. What if we see someone we know?”
“In a gay club, Max?” She rolled her eyes. “Does he know you’re with me?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then I wouldn’t worry about it. Like I said to you before, you’re not the one doing anything wrong. It’s Rowan’s lookout to worry about that kind of thing,” she stated.
