“I…” I swallowed. “I don’t think I belong here.”
“Why not?” Marley asked, moving closer to me.
“It’s just…” I gestured helplessly at myself, then at the crowd. “I mean, I don’t…”
“You don’t what?” Her voice was gentle, which somehow made it worse.
Before I could answer, someone called her name. A woman with beautiful dark curls and warm light skin waved at us from the entrance. She was beautiful in that effortless way that made me instantly aware of my own very hurried outfit.
“That’s Atlas,” Marley said. “Come on.”
Atlas pulled Marley into a hug that nearly lifted her off the ground. “About time you showed up! And this must be…” She turned to me with curious, friendly eyes.
“Kelechi,” I said quickly, my voice coming out smaller than I intended.
“My course mate,” Marley added.
“The project partner,” Atlas said, her smile widening in a way that made me think Marley had told her about me. “Nice to finally meet you. Marley’s told me quite a few things about you.”
I wasn’t wrong.
I shot a look at Marley, who was suddenly very interested in a spot on the wall just above my head.
The bouncer waved us through, and then we were inside. The music was loud and pulsing, vibrating through my ribs.
Lights flickered overhead, washing everything in red, blue, and gold.
And everywhere I looked…
Women were dancing, talking, laughing, touching, and completely unapologetic.
Some leaned into each other at tables, foreheads nearly touching. Some of them were... kissing, openly, casually. It seemed almost natural in this world.
I’d never seen anything like it. In my world, this kind of openness, this kind of freedom to just be who you were and love who you loved, was completely foreign and a taboo.
My face felt like it was on fire.
“You okay there?” Marley’s voice brushed my ear, her breath warm against my skin. I realised I’d been gawking, probably with my mouth hanging open like some sort of tourist.
“I’m fine,” I squeaked, though we both knew that was a lie.
She laughed. “Come on, let’s get drinks.”
She led me towards the bar and, without warning, slipped her hand into mine, which caused all sorts of chaos in my nervous system. The bartender, a woman with platinum blonde hair and sleeves covered in colourful tattoos, smiled at us, mostly at Marley.
“What would you like?” she asked.
“Something light and soft, with no alcohol.”
“Okay,” she replied.
“Yeah, thanks. And…” Marley looked at me questioningly.
“Um, same,” I managed, not trusting myself to make decisions in my current state of sensory overload.
A few minutes later, the bartender slid two glasses across the bar, and I looked down to see clear liquid with bubbles.
“Sprite?” I blinked.
