Who names a club Mask?
I’m standing in front of the doors for the fifth time since deciding I was going to come here, but this time I really have to go inside. I can’t take one more class with Professor Levine while my head is so confused. I’m going to end up doing something to embarrass myself, even worse than I already have, and I don’t want to think about what thatsomethingmight be.
It’s so strange—I’d never noticed the way praise made mefeelbefore. I’d never really thought about it, other than the fact that I liked doing a good job. The wordgoodshouldn’t have had the ability to zip down my spine and turn me into someone who couldn’t think straight. When Professor Levine says it, all bets are off. I can’tthink.
I was going to smother Zandy in his sleep. Him and his scary boyfriend. Every single bit of this is their fault. I should have forced him to come here with me like some sort of bad roommate penance for his crimes against my sanity.
I stare at the club for another few seconds, trying to work up the nerve to take a step forward. The lights coming from inside cascade in a purple haze from the open door, and thethumpthump thumping tempo of the music is almost as rapidfire as my heartbeat. Even though I can’t see much inside, there are bodies moving, people talking.
Laughter.
It’s all heat and excitement, and it’s exactly what I need to look for if I’m going to work through all the cobwebs in my head and figure out how to behave like an actual adult around Professor Levine.
Come on, Luca. You can do this.
The silent pep talk isn’t doing me a damn bit of good. It hasn’t gotten me in there yet.
The feel of a group of people behind me, however, makes me shift forward… and once my feet are moving, I can’t seem to stop myself.
I do take pause when the bouncer puts his arm out, and I don’t miss the way he arches a brow at me like he’s just as surprised as I am that I’m finally here.
I wonder if he’s noticed me standing at the door before. With how many times I’ve been here, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had my face memorized. He probably went home and told his friends all about that weird little mousy kid with brown hair and brown eyes who kept showing up at the club and then running away like his pants were on fire.
I open my mouth to apologize for being weird, but he waves me in before I can. It saves me from that embarrassing reaction, at least…
Of course, now that I’m in, I’m really not sure if I can do this… but even if I wanted to go, the group of people behind me are blocking my way out.
It’s too late.
And as soon as I step inside, I realize this was a mistake.
I’m overwhelmed. There are so many people here, crowded on the dance floor, pressed against the walls with their armsaround each other. There isn’t even space at the bar for me to try to hide.
Oh… God.
Worst still, I feelwarm. I’m terrified and excited, and even though I don’t know how to deal with any of this… mybodyseems thrilled that I’m here.
This is exactly why I had to come. My emotional regulation has been non-existent lately, and I need to figure out a way I can get a hold of it. Being here is like some really odd form of exposure therapy, if nothing else. I need to deal with what I’m feeling and learn how to control it. If I can’t even figure myself out, I’m not sure what I’m doing trying to go into psychology.
Though… as I watch the people grind against each other on the dance floor—sweaty and looking like they’re pantomiming sex—I’m pretty sure the heat that’s pulsing through me is a weird mixture of desire and embarrassment.
I couldn’t dothat.
I’m honestly pretty sure I couldn’t do anything remotely close to it. I’m not even sure why I’m here, other than my brain needing confirmation that what I heard and my reaction to it wasn’t a fluke.
“You already figured that out with Professor Scary, Luca.” I murmur the answer to myself, unable to hear it over the pulsing sound of the music.
Now that I’m here, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I guess a normal person would go to the bar… but I don’t really drink. Maybe they’d go out on the dance floor and see if anyone joined them?
The thought of being trapped between all those gyrating bodies is enough to make my chest feel tight. The last thing I want is to have a panic attack in the middle of an unfamiliar club.
The last thing I need is someone,somehowgetting word of it back to school. The thought of my classmates knowing I was here is enough to make my entire face burn. The thought of Zandy realizingwhyI needed to come here is enough to make me want to dig a hole through the checkered tile beneath my feet so I can just live underground. Since I can’t do that, my eyes flick around.
There’s the door, but a group of people are gathered there talking to the bouncer, and I’m not sure if I’d be able to squeeze through without touching them.
There’s the dance floor, but I’ve already established that I’d perish if I even tried…
Which leaves my eyes sweeping around in something close to desperation… until I notice at the back of the club there’s a roped off area with…
