Rock All Night

97




Riley eventually got tired of all the self-introspection.

“C’mon, Blondie,” she said, grabbing my hand. “If I can’t hit on you, I can least use you as chick-bait.”

We went out on the dance floor – which was no more than twenty feet square – and bumped and grinded along with at least forty other women, ranging from lipstick to sporty to full-on butch.

I got my fair share of attention from other women, including a few offers to buy me a drink. I turned them down, but told them I appreciated it. Everybody was cool; nobody got annoyed.

I had a fantastic time. When I didn’t have to fend off advances from Riley, she was actually a hell of a lot of fun to be around.


Riley hit on just about everybody else, though, over the course of the night. Her favorite trick was to wait until someone set their sights on me, then dart in and say, “Hey, have you met my friend Kaitlyn? She’s straight. But I’m not.”

She got a few make-outs from that approach.

There were more shots, and more dancing, and more laughter. For the first time in over a week, all my troubles were gone. No drama with Derek… no f*cking article to write…

Just a good time had by all.

And then, somewhere along the way, I blacked out.