Lindsay

 

The club is bursting at the seams with locals and tourists. It’s both horrendous and exciting in equal measure. “Let’s get some drinks,” Kate yells above the din, and we press our way through the crowd, trying not to tread on toes, with limited success.

By the time we get to the bar, I’ve had a “hello, pleased to feel you” from one creepy guy I had to squeeze past and numerous smiles, along with a few flirty, not so slimy comments.

“The crowd might thin out later, if people are going on to somewhere else,” Kate says, holding up a twenty to attract the attention of the bartender. I hope she’s right. I don’t like crowds like this.

She looks at her phone. “Oh, Dad wants to give us a lift home.”

She taps in a message.

“What did you say?”

“Not to wait up. We don’t need him knowing what time we get in. The night is still young.”

I smile at her. Though it was nice to think of him waiting for us, caring what we were up to and making sure we got home safe, it’s probably for the best if he doesn’t come back to pick us up. If we drink a few margaritas tonight, I won’t be able to trust myself to hide how I feel about him.

Kate gets us talking to some guys at the bar. Typical guys. Not bad looking. Out for a good time. If I had to choose, there’s one who seems quieter than the rest. But one of the group says, “Don’t mind Jerry; he’s in love. His girlfriend is out of town,” and he makes a yawning motion, covering his mouth. Kate laughs. She’s laughing a lot. I guess we both are, making small talk, trading jokes. We get our drinks, and when we finish our cocktails, the guys buy us more. I’m feeling good, enjoying the chat, the buzz.

The crush of people has eased a bit, and people start moving to the music.

Chad, a blond guy from the group, asks me if I’d like to dance. I say “sure,” because why not? We came out to have a good time. But Chad’s idea of a good time and a dance is different from mine. He murmurs something in my ear. I have no idea what, but it serves as an excuse for him to pull me closer, hold onto my shoulders and then my back. His hands go lower, all over my ass, pulling me against his body.

“That’s how much I want you,” he says, his erection all too clear against me, but ugh, I didn’t need to feel that. I don’t want this. I don’t want him.

I remove his hands, but it’s not long before they creep back, and I’ve had enough. He whispers in my ear again. All I hear is “uptight,” said in a jokey way, but he can fuck right off.

Back at the bar, I find Kate is still out on the dance floor with Chad’s friend Paul, Jerry is texting, probably with his girlfriend, and the others are chatting to a group of giggling girls. Chad hasn’t followed me back. Good riddance.

I always take refuge in the restroom when it’s like this. The place is full of girls putting on another layer of war paint and analyzing the latest episode in their love lives. I linger as long as I can in a stall, hoping no one is bursting to get in there. It must be ten minutes later when I venture out to wash my hands. I check on Kate. She’s obviously getting on well, very well, with Paul. They are making out on the dance floor. I don’t want to get in her way. I just need to tell her I’m going home. If they ever stop locking mouths.

“I think I’ll just go,” I tell her when she eventually gets back to the bar and leads me off to the bathroom. I’ve seen altogether too much of those sinks and stalls for one evening.

“I thought you and Chad were getting along.”

“Not so much. I’ll just get an Uber myself if you’ll be okay.”

“I’m more than okay.” She grins. “If you’re sure you won’t stay, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Right then, take care.”

That’s the end of my night out, Lindsay style. I should have known. It’s a regular pattern.

*

So much for getting over Gavin. After a night out like that, he seems more attractive than ever. Even so, I avoid him all week. Kate goes out with Paul a couple of times while I stay home. At work, she tells me that she really likes him and how excited she is that he’s coming to her birthday party.

I’ve been looking forward to that with equal amounts of anticipation and dread. She’s having a Hawaiian-themed party by the pool. It will be great except for two things; Gavin will be there, and I’ll have to wear something skimpy. With nowhere to hide.