Emma squeezes my arm and smiles at me. “This is great, right?” she semi-screams over the music. “I’m so glad we came!”
I open my mouth to answer, but at that moment, Server comes up behind Emma and wraps his arms possessively around her from behind. He whispers something in her ear that I can’t hear and she giggles while batting her lashes. Then, she turns and literally rubs her breasts against his narrow chest, her eyes sparkling like diamonds.
“Oooh, baby,” Server croons, his hands going up and down her waist. Then he turns to me. “I’m going to have to steal your friend for a bit,” the boy shouts over the music.
I give him a sarcastic smile and thumbs up, but they’re not paying attention. Instead, Server pulls Emma onto the dance floor and within seconds, they’ve disappeared into the sea of gyrating bodies. I shake my head ruefully. So much for being each other’s wing-woman.
I turn and look about, feeling a little out of place. It seems everyone’s talking, laughing or dancing with friends, and that I’m the only solo person inside this giant warehouse. But then, the inevitable happens because my dress invites male attention. A greasy hand presses into the small of my back, and a hot breath warms my ear.
“Heeeey baby,” a male voice whispers. “You look like sweet honey.”
What kind of pick up line is that? Before he can slide his hand down to my ass, I move away and give him a dirty look. Sure enough, the boy looks eighteen at most with pimply skin and greasy bangs.
Meanwhile, he doesn’t get the message at all. The intruder smiles sleazily and tries to corner me again, but I hold one hand up in his face. “No.”
I don’t say anything else, or wait for him to react before spinning on my heel and practically running away. But where to go? In a semi-panic, I make a bee-line for the bar. I need a drink because maybe alcohol will help make this place seem a little more palatable. Doubtful, but I’ve got to give it a shot.
Several more guys try to grope me as I wend my way to the bar, and it’s gross. Their hands are sweaty and nasty, and I grimace every time one of them skims my curves. Honestly, I’m not sure how they can do this. Haven’t they heard of the #MeToo movement? I suppose it’s dark in here, so they figure they won’t be identified. But still, there must be cameras, right? No one can hide from the unblinking lens if things get super out of control.
It takes me way too long to get to the bar, but when I do, I see that this place is even more sketchy than I thought. The bartenders are literally mixing drinks in red solo cups. Okay fine. I guess this is just how the college crowd rolls.
I finally manage to squeeze my way to the front, and a bored male bartender with his hair in a tight man-bun eyes me with disinterest.
“I’ll take a virgin lemon drop!” I shout so he can hear me, but instead, he grabs a red cup and starts pouring some liquid out of a large drink cooler. It looks to be a bright pink color with plenty of ice and I look at the cocktail askance. But it’s too late to do anything because the bartender’s already turned away and moved off to the next patron.
Damn. I don’t really want to try the mystery drink but I’m really thirsty and sweat’s beginning to bead on my forehead and gather in the valley between my breasts.
“I’m going to kill Emma,” I groan to myself before picking up my red cup and squeezing back through the crowd. Once I’m by one of the walls, I pause and sniff the drink. It’s light, fruity and reminds me of Kool-Aid fruit punch, to my surprise. Heck, I bet Kool-Aid is one of the ingredients.
Tentatively, I lift the cup to my lips and take a sip. It’s not too bad actually. There’s a lot of sugar in this thing, but only the tiniest sting of vodka beneath. Gratefully, I take a bigger sip. I’m thirsty, and at least the drink soothes my parched throat.
But after about twenty minutes or so, everything begins to spin. The floor sways a bit, and I bop up and down, my fruit punch sloshing onto my hand. Hmm, is this the new Lil Nas song? I love Lil Nas.
Some random dude strolls over to talk to me, but I merely continue bopping up and down until he walks away with disgust. Then, I decide to find Emma. I need to get her to tell me if this is the Lil Nas song. Oh wait, did that song end? No, they’re playing it again!