Conrad starts the car, and George turns around to face us. “Not gonna introduce us to your friends, J?”
Jenna holds her hands out.
“These are my best friends, Indie and Regina. Indie is strictly off limits, so paws off.” She squeezes my hand, giving me a wink.
“Who’s the lucky guy?” Conrad asks up front, and my gaze shifts to the rearview mirror, his eyes already on me.
“His name is Saint; he graduated last year,” I reply, breaking the unsettling stare-off and pulling my phone out from my purse.
One of them voices up from the front. “Oh by the way, it’s a no-phone event. You add it to a locker when you get in. You can go down and get it anytime, but you can’t walk around with it…so we’ve been told.”
What the actual fuck?
Despite the alcohol flowing through my veins, I feel apprehensive about this whole thing. I’m not one of those people who gets drunk and loses all sensibility. This is a bit shady, if youask me. I’m not exactly as wild and carefree as the girls, but what choice do I have?
I can’t abandon them, and certainly not with these two.
“It’s fine,” Jenna whispers, giving me a reassuring smile. “We can stay for an hour then leave? Earlier if you really want to go.”
I subtly nod my head.
I can handle an hour.
IsendSaintatext as we leave the car, telling him about the change of plans and that we should be heading to the original party after an hour, giving him the address and my phone’s location.
I only manage to type out ‘there’s a weird no phone rule’ before it’s swiped from my hands.
“Put it in this bag, or they won’t let you in,” Conrad says, sealing it and giving me a wristband.
I glare at him but secure the rubber band with the key attached to my wrist.
The Archives is huge; music rumbles through the parking lot, packs of drunken students litter the outside, and flashing neon lights pierce into the night from the cracks in the boarded-up windows. Some faces I recognise, some I don’t.
There’s a variety of ages of partygoers, and as soon as the front door opens, I’m almost deafened as “Pour It Up”by Rihanna blares into my ears.
The interior is deceiving from the outside, because inside isn’t like an archive at all. The hallway is huge, stretching into what looks like a kitchen and bar area.
To the right, a huge dance floor flashes ferocity with strobe lights, the haze from the smoke machine seeping into the corridor.
The left room is plunged into darkness, the faint outline of silhouettes and sofas scattered around the place.
Conrad leads us past the stairs, a row of lockers placed underneath it, shouting over the music, “Look for your number and throw your phone in.”
I find it weird that he already has these for us, but Regina and I scan the metal wall, find the numbers from our keys, and place the phones inside.
I glance up to look over the balcony on the second floor to see a couple of doors.
“What’s up there?” I call out, and he turns to give me a lopsided smile.
“Apparently, chill-out rooms and the club’s meeting area.”
I nod at his answer.
When we reach the back room, it does in fact open up to a large kitchen and bar. There’s no bartender, and bottles of liquor and plastic cups are scattered everywhere, people helping themselves to whatever.
George joins us with Jenna and pulls a bottle of whiskey from his bag.
“That shit looks expensive,” Regina howls, my eardrums already sensitive from the sudden burst of beats when coming inside.
