“You’re so serious,” the girl beside me proclaims. “Live a little. Finals are over. You can relax now.”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.
“Sorry.” I shrug. “Guess I just have a resting bitch face.”
“What? No. I didn’t mean—“
My lips twitch at the corners and I give her an almost smile. “You’re fine. This just isn’t really my scene.”
She nods. “I get that. You should at least try and have a little fun, though.”
Easier said than done. It’s hard to be around all of these college kids and not feel a little resentment for the lives they lead. I’ll never go to PacNorth—Richland’s local college—or any other university. I want to. I’d kill for the chance to further my education. Maybe study abroad. But it isn’t in the cards for me.
I’ve considered enrolling in a class or two after I make my escape, but college registration means leaving a paper trail, and that’s not something I can risk. In six months, I’ll be free of the cartel life, but I won’t be truly free. Life on the run is its own form of captivity.
Maybe she’s onto something, though. I can sayfuck itfor one night. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take advantage of moments like this when I can. Maybe pretend to be one of these carefree college students. Someone without fear or responsibility outside of grades and exams.
God, I wonder what that’s like?
“Here. This will help.” She offers me one of two shot glasses she’s holding and gives me a pointed look. Where did she even get these from?
“What’s in it?” I ask.
She shrugs and dips her head toward Maxim’s table. “Don’t know. The guy at that table that’s been checking you out all night just sent them over.”
It only takes one quick glimpse at Maxim’s face to tell me that taking the offered shot isn’t a suggestion. It’s an order.
Pinche cabrón.Fucking bastard. Guess he noticed my resting bitch face, too.
“That was super cool of him, huh?” She grins. Not waiting for a response, she raises her shot glass. “Cheers!”
With a grimace, I follow suit, clinking my glass with hers and throwing back the shot.
That asshole better not have drugged me.
Fire races down my esophagus. Coughing, I hand her the now empty glass.Shit.That was strong. Blinking hard to clear my vision, I immediately feel my cheeks warm as the vodka courses through me.
She passes the glasses off to whichever of Maxim’s men delivered them and shifts closer to me, her lips curving into a suggestive smile. “I’m Jill, by the way.”
“Leticia.”
“That’s a pretty name,” Jill says.
I shrug. “Thanks.”
“So, do you want to…” she trails off, canting her head to the side with a suggestive grin. I know what she’s getting at and it’s going to be a hard pass for me.
Pretending to be carefree for the night is one thing. Going off the deep end and putting on the kind of show that look of hers is suggesting, is another.
“Not really into the girl on girl thing for male attention. Sorry.”
She pouts, but accepts my answer without complaint, shifting her attention to the woman dancing on her other side who is much more eager to put on the type of display Jill is after.
Turning my back on them, I swing my hips back and forth, trying to forget that I was ordered to dance so I can lose myself between the mix of music and alcohol now thrumming through my veins.Positive vibes, Leticia. Be a carefree college kid.
Havanaplays over the speakers and both guys and girls sing along to the Camila Cabello club rendition as they rub against one another in a seductive display. A pang of longing spears me in the chest. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been out dancing. It had to have been Prom, maybe? And that was like, five years ago.
A wistful smile ghosts across my lips. The atmosphere wasn’t all that different back then. Young people, sweaty bodies, and carefree attitudes. The only real difference was the lack of alcohol flowing since we were all underaged, and the formal attire.
