“Really?”
“Yeah, there’s this guy I’ve kinda had a crush on for a while. He’s one of the guys I surf with. It’s probably useless though. I don't think he’s ever going to think of me as anything more than a friend.”
Cush plops his head down on the pillow and sighs. “Yeah, I know what that feels like. Hey, so I’m going back to sleep.”
He closes his eyes and seems distant all of a sudden.
Is he mad at me? Did I say something wrong?
While I try to figure out the answer, I close my eyes and immediately fall asleep.
I wake up with that feeling. That feeling someone is staring at you. My little sisters do it all the time. I’ll wake up, and their little faces will be four inches away from mine, and I’ll wonder how long they’ve been there.
I open my eyes and see Cush. “Tell me I wasn't snoring.”
He grins sweetly at me. “No, you looked peaceful. You ready to tackle the cleanup?”
“Not really, but I suppose we better.”
We go down to the laundry room, grab a couple of big, black trash bags, and start cleaning up. We work our way through empty beer bottles, empty pizza boxes, and random half-eaten pieces of pizza.
An hour and half later, I wipe off the bar, throw away a few stray empties, fluff the pillows, and look around.
“We’re a good team,” Cush says.
I smile at him and nod in agreement.
“You have any plans tonight?” he asks.
“Not really. Sander has something going on, and Vanessa and RiAnne are going to some benefit with RiAnne’s parents. The nanny took the girls down to Sea World today, so they’ll go to sleep early. I was just gonna do a little homework, relax. Maybe watch a movie.”
“Any chance you'd wanna hang out with me? I just got a text from my mom. She changed her plans—some fashion emergency—and now she won't be home until tomorrow night.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Cool,” he says. “So, what do you want to do?”
I realize there is something I’d rather do than just hang out, and Cush might be just the guy to do it with.
“Don’t laugh, okay. But would you want to go dancing? The guys I surf with only go to dive bars. Sander took years of dance lessons, but he won’t go to clubs with me. And when we dance, he actually gets pissed at me if I dance too close or like grind on him.”
Cush shakes his head in disbelief. “If it weren’t for the fact that he dates you, I'd think he was gay.” He bows to me like I’m a princess. “Miss Douglas, I would be honored to have you grind up against me all night. You have a club in mind?”
“Actually, yeah. There’s this place I go . . .”
He interrupts me. “Who do you go with?”
“Oh, um, well, this is gonna sound weird, but I sorta go by myself. Every Thursday night. This guy I know, Troy, is the DJ there. He invited me on opening night and I had so much fun I’ve gone back every Thursday since. I just go and dance. You still have your fake ID, don't you?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think we’ll need it. I always drive Tommy’s black Ferrari, and the valets and the doormen all know me, so I never get carded.”
“I know your parents are cool, but I’m sorta surprised they let you go.”
“They know Troy. He’s in that band with my friend, Damian. Tommy talked to him before he let me go the first time and made him promise to look out for me. They also know that I just go because I like to dance. I don’t get drunk or make bad decisions or anything.”
“Bet you don’t wait in line either.”
“Well, no, but it’s because I had a connection, and now I’m a regular, I guess. Although Troy always gives me shit about not bringing my friends.”
“You seriously go by yourself? Like all by yourself?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it’s nice to get away. To not worry about taking care of Sander or my friends. Who’s drunk? Who’s doing drugs? Who’s leaving with a guy she shouldn’t be? Who’s going to hook up with some random guy in the bathroom?”
“See. Just like I said. Who takes care of you?”
“I guess I do.”
He smiles at me. “Do you drink while you’re there?”
“I have a little routine. As soon as I get there, I down three shots. Then I drink water the rest of the night and dance my ass off.”
“Let’s do it. Where is this place?”
“Most people call it the Side Door, but it doesn’t have an actual name. It's in a crappy warehouse area, and you enter from this little rusted metal side door. But it’s huge inside. Three levels. Lights. Girls dancing in cages hung from the rafters. Great music. I’ve always heard Saturday nights are insane. I’m so excited to go. But I should warn you, I look different when I go there.”
“How so?”
“Well, I wear lots of makeup and usually put my hair in a high ponytail.”
“I see you in a ponytail at soccer all the time.”