In The Dark

by Monica Murphy

  “Right,” I say automatically though…I’m envious of what Shep has with Jade. If you’d told me a few months ago I’d feel that way about my friend’s committed relationship, I would’ve laughed in your face.

  But now I can’t help but think of what could’ve been for Lucy and me. Could we be as happy as Jade and Shep? We were having a pretty good time together this summer. I had to cut it off because I didn’t want to break her heart.

  More like I didn’t want to break my heart either.

  “So you can be the real wingman tonight,” Tristan says to Shep. “Gabe and I will be on the hunt and you can lure them in.”

  “You two are going to use me so you can find chicks to bang?” He shakes his head. “Unreal.”

  “You don’t want to bang them anymore so that’s our new rule. You’re our official wingman,” Tristan declares. “Not that we need your help. We can do this shit on our own, but it’ll be fun. Like old times. Right, Gabe?”

  “Yeah,” I agree, knowing that this is the right thing to do. Finding a girl, flirting with a girl, a complete stranger. Buying her a drink, getting close to her, flatter her, touch her, kiss her, take her back to my place and get her naked and in my bed. That’ll push Lucy out of my head once and for all. I haven’t been laid since the last time I saw her. That’s my problem. I’m stuck on her because it’s been so long.

  Now I can only hope I find a sexy little dark haired girl with a banging body at the bar tonight. With flashing dark eyes and full lips and killer tits, a tiny waist and bull hips and an ass that I want to grip. A girl with a throaty laugh and an easy smile and a way of touching me that makes me feel so damn alive…

  Fuck. I’m thinking of Lucy.

  Still.

  “Tonight at ten at Jack’s they’re having a back to school special,” Tristan says, pulling me from my semi-depressing thoughts. “All girly drinks are half off.”

  “What about us?” Shep asks, making a face. “No beer specials? I hate girly drinks.”

  “Nope. Not even the shitty stuff on tap is discounted. They’re doing it on purpose. A new plan they have going on. Get the girls into the bar to buy all the cheap drinks and get them good and drunk so we can start picking up on them.” Tristan grins and raises his eyebrows.

  “Great. That’s not creepy or anything,” Shep drawls and I think the same thing.

  The same exact thing.

  Drunken college girls aren’t high on my list. They get silly. They get a little loose, which I usually have no problem with. But when they drink too much and they’re all together, they get mouthy. Loud. Opinionated.

  I’m starting to regret tonight’s events already.

  The bar Gina brought me to is completely packed, full of mostly women around my age. They all have vividly colored, fruity looking drinks clutched in their hands topped with bright little umbrellas, crowded around the bar wearing as few articles of clothing as they can get away with without being completely naked.

  I feel downright overdressed in the soft yellow sundress I chose to wear. But Gina had insisted it was perfect when she saw me in it. Strapless and with a ruched bodice that my breasts can hold up quite well, I’m showing off a hint of cleavage and a lot of leg, all while being mostly covered.

  “It really shows off your tanned skin,” Gina had said, which made me laugh. Yes, I’m darker than usual from all the time I spent in the sun over the summer, but my skin is about this shade of brown pretty much year round.

  This is what happens when you’re Mexican and no one realizes it. They automatically think you have a great tan.

  “This place is crazy,” Gina shouts in my ear. “I love it, don’t you?”

  Not really but I don’t want to burst her bubble so I nod, deciding I shouldn’t bother answering. The music is loud, the insistent, throbbing beat seems to move right through me, vibrating just beneath my skin. The girls are all swaying and moving together, almost like they planned it and I notice a group of guys lined up against the opposite wall, clutching beers in their hands and watching the women in rapt fascination.

  We showed up because a flier somehow ended up on our apartment door. Considering Gina and I are on limited incomes and Gina was feeling a little down about Chad leaving, we thought going out for a half-off drink was a great idea.

  I didn’t realize it was going to be such an obvious meat market.

  “Let’s get a drink,” Gina yells, grabbing my hand and leading me through the throng. They all seem to part, like they’re water and we’re the mighty Moses or something and the bar magically appears, a couple of young looking guys working behind it. “What do you want?” she asks, turning to look at me.

  “Pick something out for me,” I say, not sure what I should order. I’m not a big drinker. I never have been. Most people go out and party on their twenty-first birthday but not me. It’s just never interested me.

  Really? I don’t like losing control. Losing control means I might do stupid things and I don’t want to be tempted. It’s better to avoid alcohol altogether.

  Tonight though, I’m doing this for Gina. Maybe a little bit for me, too. Seeing all of those guys lined up on the wall, how cute some of them are, makes me think of Gabe and how much I miss him.

  Lame but true.

  Gina waves her hand at one of the bartenders and he makes his way over to us, offering her a flirtatious smile and a suggestive, “What can I do for you?”

  She orders two drinks, I swear I heard her say the word zombie, and he offers her up a wink and a smile before he slaps the edge of the counter and says, “Be right back with that.”

  He walks away and I lean close to her ear to murmur, “He was flirting with you.”

  She turns and gapes at me in surprise. “He was not.”

  “He so was.” I watch as he casts her a sidelong glance before he starts going to work on our drinks.

  “I’m sure he flirts with all the girls. Look at how many are here tonight,” Gina says, waving a hand around. “He has his pick of any of them.”

  She’s right. There are a ton of girls here. It’s like every unattached female on campus made their way over to this bar for the half-off-fruity drinks deal. “Yet I don’t see him flirting with any of them. Just you.”

  Gina lifts her chin, looking haughty as shit. Despite her middle class upbringing, she really knows how to put on airs when she needs to. “I’m a taken woman so he’s wasting his time.”

  I burst out laughing at her choice of words and eventually she starts laughing too. We’re still laughing when the bartender sets our drinks down on the bar in front of us. When Gina and I both start to hand over cash he settles his hand over hers, stopping her completely. “On the house.” He shoots me a meaningful glance. “For the both of you.”

  “Oh, no way,” Gina starts to protest but he shakes his head, squeezes her hand firmly.

  “I mean it. Enjoy.” He slaps a napkin in the palm of her hand and leaves, off to help the next girl order an over the top drink.

  Gina stares at the crushed napkin in her hand before she holds it up and shows it to me. “He gave me his phone number.”

  I start laughing again. “Of course, he did. I told you he was flirting with you.”

  “Unbelievable. My boyfriend and I are apart not even a few hours and I’m already fighting them off. Imagine what Chad’s going to deal with?” Oh, crap. She looks close to tears, I swear to God.

  “No way, don’t you dare start thinking like that. Come on.” I take her arm and lead her through the crowd of girls all hopping up and down to the beat, singing along with the song currently playing, their drinks firmly in hand. I turn to face her and we start to dance, my lips attached to the straw as I suck up the drink. Whatever the zombie whatcha-call-it has in it, it’s damn good. Sweet and delicious and doesn’t taste like alcohol whatsoever.

  Dangerous.

  I finish it off in minutes, deposit the glass on a nearby side table and begin dancing in earnest, signing along with the songs lik
e the other girls. Gina is doing the same thing, her glass still in her hand as she dances and spins. I raise my arms above my head and sway to the music, getting lost in the lyrics, smiling and nodding at Gina as she sips on her drink and sings off key.

  My head’s a little dizzy and I’m so hot I’m starting to sweat. I lift the hair up off the back of my neck and hold it there for a while, letting the cool air bathe my skin before I drop the heavy locks. I’m thinking there was a lot of alcohol in that drink, not that I really mind. I’m feeling good. Better than I’ve felt in a long time. I’m finally liberated. Free to do whatever I want. And it’s like I can do anything, like the possibilities set before me are endless. New school, new place, new life. I can be whatever I want to be and no one’s going to stop me. Not even Mama.

  I stumble, nearly fall over onto the floor, and thank goodness I find my balance quickly. Okay, I’m definitely only having one drink. I don’t need to consume any more liquor and besides, I’m on a limited budget here. I hope by next week my schedule’s settled and I can go in search of a job.

  A source of income would be totally reassuring right about now.

  “I want another one,” Gina yells at me, holding up her empty glass.

  “No way.” I shake my head. “We only need one. That thing was potent.”

  “Yeah, it was. Wasn’t it great?” She dances a circle around me, her fingers catching in the skirt of my dress and she lifts it up a little bit. I slap it back down and try my best to dodge her busy hands. “Live a little, Lucy. One more drink can’t hurt.”

  “I shouldn’t spend the money,” I tell her and she sends me a look.

  “We got the first round free, remember?” She bats her eyelashes at me. “I bet I could get the second round free too if I ply him with my charms.” With that, she goes back toward the bar. I watch as she leans against the counter as our bartender zooms back over to talk to her. She leans forward, offering him a glimpse of her cleavage—which is pretty decently displayed in that low cut top she’s wearing. His gaze is on her chest as he says yes to whatever her question is.

  Within minutes, she’s standing next to me, handing me another drink.

  “On the house again,” she says, offering her glass up for a toast. I clink mine against hers and we both sip from our straws. “All I had to do is agree to a date and give him my phone number,” she says after she takes a swallow.

  My mouth drops open. “You did not.”

  “I did,” she says with a shrug and then a grin. “I just gave him the wrong number.”

  “Ooh, you’re bad,” I tell her and we both laugh. And drink.

  And drink some more.

  Finally after thirty minutes of dancing and sweating and laughing with our newfound nameless friends, guys come sniffing around us, some of them cute, a couple of them creepy. We dance away from the creepy ones and smile and flirt with the other ones. I notice Gina never says she has a boyfriend and I wonder at that. Though I can’t judge. Why should she have to offer up her private business to a guy she barely knows? But if I had a boyfriend I know I wouldn’t be flirting with random dudes on a dance floor at a semi-sleazy bar.

  By the time I finish my second drink I’m good and buzzed—and it’s already almost midnight. I need to go home. “I have a nine o’clock class tomorrow,” I yell at Gina.

  She bounces up and down and laughs, clapping her hands together. She finished off her second drink long ago and she’s acting sort of crazy. “Who cares? I have an eight o’clock one.”

  Ugh. She’s going to hate herself in the morning. “We should get out of here,” I tell her and she shakes her head.

  “Ah, come on. Don’t be a party pooper. Let’s dance more! It’s fun.” She spins in a circle and then starts dancing around me, getting closer and closer, reaching out to grab my waist and make me dance with her. I fall into the steps easily, enjoying myself, smiling at the other girls nearby, noticing that most of the guys have backed off once again. Maybe they realized they weren’t getting anywhere with us.

  And they never would. At least, not tonight.

  The bar is packed, filled to the freaking brim with girls. Every kind of girl you could imagine. Tall, short, skinny, chubby, curvy, thin as a rail, red heads, brunettes and blondes, blue eyed, brown eyed, a few greens and hazels I’m sure, not that I can tell any of their actual eye color. The room is too damn dark. They’re all wearing…not much and there’s a lot of skin on display, plus the room is stifling what with all the bodies inside of it.

  Yet I’m still here along with Shep and Tristan, holding the wall up with my shoulder and contemplating the scene. Tristan surveys the girls before them with such a possessive gleam I’m wondering if he thinks they’re all a part of his own personal harem.

  Me? I’m not interested in a one of them. Meaning something is clearly wrong with me.

  “They all look really young,” Shep observes, tipping his head toward mine so I can hear him better. “What do you want to make a bet the majority of them are in here with fake IDs?”

  “I don’t want to take that bet,” I tell him because I know he’s probably right. Yeah, there are a lot of girls that are our age in here but many of them do look bright eyed and incredibly young. Like fresh out of high school young.

  No thanks. They’re practically like jailbait and I don’t need the hassle.

  Two girls chose that precise moment to walk past us, one of them flashing Shep a sultry smile and Tristan glares at him the second they’re out of earshot. “What the hell, dude? I thought you were our wingman?”

  “I am,” Shep says, frowning.

  “Then why didn’t you lure one of them in? Say something to them?”

  “Didn’t realize I was supposed to do your job for you,” Shep says sarcastically. “Can’t you do that on your own?”

  I roll my eyes and slump against the wall, not in the mood to get in the middle of one of their fights. I’ve done that before, countless times. We all three get along for the most part but every once in a while these two go at each other because they’re cousins and it’s easy for them to argue.

  If they’re going to keep this shit up though, I’m out of here.

  Ignoring them, I check out all the girls, waiting for one of them to catch my eye. They’re all pretty and laughing and drinking, a light sheen of sweat on their faces since the bar is hot as hell. I nurse my beer, not willing to let go and get drunk. I thought I wanted to get trashed and find a willing and ready girl but the moment I walked into this bar, I knew that was the last thing I wanted.

  It’s irritating, how none of them interest me. I don’t discriminate. I like them all sizes and shapes and colors. I genuinely love spending time with women. Listening to them laugh, talking with them, flirting with them. It’s fun. They’re fun.

  But these girls, they’re probably not much of a challenge. Seriously, just from watching them, I can tell none of these girls would be. They’re all on the make, just like Tristan is on the make, trolling for girls like a perv.

  Jesus, I’m being totally judgmental. What the hell is wrong with me? Who cares if they’re looking to hook up or not? That’s pretty much how I survived college, especially my freshman year. I banged just about every semi-attractive girl who looked my way.

  That sort of thing doesn’t interest me anymore. I can’t believe I’m thinking this, could probably never get around to actually saying it out loud, but…

  The casual sex thing doesn’t sound fun. It sounds miserable. I want to find someone and be like Shep and Jade. I want a relationship.

  More than anything I want Lucy.

  That she continues to linger in my mind is frustrating as shit.

  “You want another beer?” Tristan asks.

  I shake my head. Hold up my half-filled bottle. “I’m good.”

  Tristan takes off toward the bar and Shep sends me a nod. “Gonna hit the head,” he says before he heads off toward the bathroom.

  I nod in return and stand there alone, smili
ng politely at the girls who pass by me but otherwise not really engaging.

  Damn it, I want out of here. This is not my scene tonight and I’m not in the mood.

  A flash of yellow catches my eye and I swear it’s familiar. I crane my head, looking at the crowd of women bouncing up and down and singing along to some empowering Katy Perry song. I roll my eyes and lean against the wall, telling myself I saw nothing. That yellow dress didn’t remind me of one Lucy wore.

  No way. No how.

  I see it again though. Then again. And the owner of said dress has dark hair, tanned skin…

  But it can’t be my Lucy. No way in hell.

  I lose track of her as quickly as I found her and soon Shep returns, along with Tristan. We’re deep in conversation about the upcoming football season when I see the yellow dress again. This time, though, she’s leaving, heading toward the front door. The way she walks, her hair, how she carries herself...

  Yes, fine I’m fucking crazy, but she reminds me of Lucy.

  “Excuse me,” I say as I shove my empty beer bottle into Shep’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  They’re left sputtering after me but I ignore their calls. Instead, I exit the bar and stay far back, following behind her, noting again the familiar way she walks, the swing of her hair. She’s with another girl, one I don’t recognize. A tall girl with dark hair and a long stride.

  Swear to God that has to be Lucy and I’m starting to trip out. What if she’s here at this university with me? Talk about a lucky opportunity. I lurch forward, about ready to call her name when someone steps in front of me, stopping my pursuit.

  “Gabe! Oh my God, what are you doing here?” The shrill, overly excited voice is definitely familiar. And not entirely welcome.

  Disappointment crashes over me. It’s freaking Audrey. And she knew we were both going to the same college so our running into each other is no surprise to her. She’s the one who flunked out of two other universities the last two years and this is the last one her parents are going to pay for. If she can’t get through the first semester, she’s done with college for good.