I make a beeline for the bar and order a vodka and orange juice. I’ve never really drank before, and I have no idea what to order. But I’m nervous and drink it so quickly that I don’t even taste it.
“Another one?” the woman behind the bar offers kindly.
Nodding, I turn my attention back toward the bar and watch her pour the drink.
“How do you even hear orders?” I ask out of curiosity. It’s something I’ve always wondered, but never been able to ask. Jeff would have killed me if I’d approached the bar at any of the clubs we used to work.
“You get good at reading lips and following eyes,” she yells over the music, handing me the drink. I go to pay, but she shakes her head. “It’s on me. You look like you need it,” she tells me with a reassuring smile.
“Thank you” I smile and sip my drink more slowly this time as I watch her moving around the bar, serving other people. Her nature surprises me. It’s unusual to come across someone who does something kind without reason.
Her tag tells me that her name is Kim. It’s hard to make out her features properly in the coloured flashing lights, but I can tell that her wavy shoulder-length hair is most likely red, and her eyes appear light, so I think they're blue. She’s older than me. Maybe she’s someone’s mother. She has a kind and friendly face, and I find myself wishing that I was surrounded by people like her who did things to be nice instead of expecting something from me.
I watch her for a little longer, imagining what life would be like as a normal teen, with a mother who actually cared. When my drink runs dry, I snap out of my reverie.
Hovering around the bar, isn’t going to get me what I want out of this night, so I turn away and push thoughts of a different life out of my mind. Then I start scanning the room.
Feeling slightly bolstered by two drinks on an empty stomach, I move toward the dance floor, searching the crowd for eyes that are following me with interest.
My eyes land on a group of guys who look like they’re in their early twenties. They’re standing around a pylon that features a small ledge for their drinks, as they talk to each other and watch girls dancing with great interest. I go to the dance floor, positioning myself in their line of sight and start to move with the pulse of the music.
Closing my eyes, I sway my body in way I imagine would look enticing to anyone interested in me. Truthfully, I’m nervous. I’ve never purposely done this before.
It doesn’t take long before a guy moves his way along the dance floor and starts to dance near me, inching himself closer as he gauges my reaction to his advances. He isn’t one of the guys from the group that was watching me though.
I glance toward the group of guys and see one, in particular, watching me. His expression as he watches me move is dark and hungry and causes my insides to skitter about excitedly.
The gyrating guy in front of me is blond and young. Too young. I can’t imagine that he has a place of his own, but the one who is watching me seems older. He’s my best bet.
I step away from the dancer and walk toward the bar, making sure that I make strong eye contact with the one watching me and smile as I approach. I can tell that he thinks I’m heading straight for him, but I walk right by. I’m playing him.
By the time I’m at the bar, he’s standing behind me.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks close to my ear. My stomach dances about inside me as I attempt to suppress the grin that is trying to force its way to my lips. I’m trying to be cool.
I turn around and look up into his eyes while I study his face. His dark eyes are intense as they look directly into mine, his full lips curve up in a smile. My fingers itch to reach up and touch his facial hair, which is thick and dark like the hair on his head, and makes him more appealing to me.
“I’d like that,” I reply and tell him I’ll have a vodka and OJ, not wanting to mix my drinks. I’ve heard that it makes you sick and the last thing I want to do tonight is start throwing up.
“I’m Ed,” he tells me.
“P...Linda,” I say, correcting myself before saying the wrong name.