CHAPTER THREE
Melanie
The crowds were raucous and noisy from behind the velvet curtain. I twisted the tie on my g-string and fidgeted uncertainly. This idea didn’t seem so good anymore.
I’d been sitting dumbly in my dorm room, staring at the tuition bill again when my roommate Lauren came back from class, dumping her backpack onto the bed.
“Hey Melly, what’s up?” she’d asked carelessly, tossing her jacket onto the bed. It was one of the distressed denim ones, the kind that looks beat-up but was actually really expensive.
We’d gotten to be friends over the couple weeks we’d been living together, and I felt comfortable enough to confide.
“Did you get your tuition bill yet?” I asked.
“Oh yeah, that thing,” said Lauren, squinching up her nose. “It was fucking unbelievable right? Forty-six thousand? It’s fucking grand larceny, and that didn’t even include extra fees and housing,” she said.
I shook my head slowly, feeling defeated.
“It’s just that … honestly, I don’t know if I’m still going to be here,” I confessed. “My stepdad just got called up to Afghanistan, so he’s getting military pay now, and my mom doesn’t have the cash to make up the shortfall,” I said quietly. “I mean, I love Trinity, but my family can’t afford for me to be here, not really.”
Lauren was silent for a bit. I could understand her awkwardness. As a rich girl, it was probably the first time she was putting herself in someone else’s shoes, and she probably didn’t know what to say. But Lauren surprised me.
“Mel, you know I’m not from a wealthy family, right?” said Lauren slowly. “I mean, I have expensive shit and stuff, but I pay for it myself. I don’t have a Daddy Warbucks. In fact, I’m footing the bill here at Trinity on my own.”
My mouth fell open. Really? Unless she had some kind of trust fund, I didn’t see how any eighteen year-old could afford this school.
But Lauren just shook her head.
“I dance, Mel,” she stated. Seeing my look of confusion, she clarified. “I’m a stripper at the Donkey Club in the City.”
Donkey Club? Which city? What was she talking about?
Sighing, she began to explain.
“You know how I disappear every weekend to see my boyfriend up at NYU? Well, I go up to New York City … but it’s not because I have a boyfriend,” she said. “I’m a stripper at a joint up there called the Donkey Club. It’s not one of the high-end places, but there’s a niche for “school girl cream,” as they like to call it.”
“In fact, I often bring a lot of Trinity gear up with me, and that’s my routine,” she said. “My spiel is that I’m a Trinity co-ed, wearing a Trinity bikini and skirt, and it all comes off over the course of a few minutes.”
My mouth hung open. It was true that Lauren owned a ton of Trinity gear but I’d never suspected that it was a costume and props. I’d just figured she had a lot of school spirit.
But I could kind of see it. Lauren was blonde and gorgeous with a worldly, experienced air. Guys would love seeing her on-stage, parading that perfect bod.
Plus, she could pull it off. I’d never questioned that she had a long-term boyfriend in New York whom she visited every weekend. It fit in perfectly with her mature demeanor, the sophisticated way she smoked cigarettes and seemed to know everything already, despite the fact we were both freshmen.
I took a deep breath and decided not to beat around the bush.
“Do you think the Donkey Club would have room for someone like me?” I’d asked, trying to be brave.
Lauren looked me up and down, taking in my riotous brown hair, curvy shape and alabaster skin.
“I know they do,” she replied confidently. “Come with me next weekend, and you’ll pull in the big bucks, I promise.”