I hide my nerves behind a throaty moan and fake my next words like I’ve done for so long that it comes out naturally. “I just like dick.”
She buys my sassy comment but a voice in the back of my head screams for me to just confess my deepest darkest secrets. We’ve been friends since the first day of college. What would she say if I told her the truth driving this trip is much more than just a celebratory adventure for graduating college. I’m here to face demons.
I can’t stomach the idea of her looks of pity so I shelve the whole idea and play the party girl routine up more. No one can hurt you if you don’t let them know you are weak, to begin with.
There’s never a need to burden others with the nightmares that wait for me when I close my eyes for the night.
Sweat trickles down the center of my back. I could use a really cold beer. And then the rest of my plan will fall into place. I’m sure of it.
“Come on it will be kinky, fun and we will finally end the dry spell you are always moaning about.”
She snorts. “Fun, kinky yes, but what I think you meant to say is crazy expensive, right? Last I checked we have enough for a few drinks tonight, breakfast, and just enough gas to get us back to Seattle.”
The last place I want to be.
I tap the front of my teeth with a freshly painted nail the color of midnight. “Right. New plan. Maybe next girls-only road trip we can explore the finer sites. But for now, what if we get some sexy men to pay for our drinks instead?”
I keep who my family is strictly under wraps for a reason. No black credit cards or loose spending money. I work for every dime I spend and I pay my way through college.
My stepfather can choke on his money and my mother can fall into her drunken stupor and hide from the world. I have better plans.
Arabelle raises a brow and regards me with piqued interest as we walk. “What was that?”
I shrug and play off my momentary weakness. “What?”
“That flash of murder in your eyes. You looked like someone killed your puppy. Are you okay? You’ve been a little quiet on this trip which is not like you, babe.”
“I just need a beer and some loud music is all. This heat would drive anyone to murder.”
She stares at me intently for a minute like she wants to peel my layers back. Unfortunately for her, my armor is thicker than Fort Knox’s impenetrable walls. When all she finds is a smile, as usual, she hikes the hem of her long skirt and ties the ends off in knots. We dodge around leftover water puddles. We both thought the nice early afternoon shower would make the night cooler, but the humidity seems to have thickened instead.
Maracas and the tap of fingers over taut bongos carry out into the streets. Mixed scents of old wood and cigar smoke drift in the humid air as we make our way back to our little hotel. I have to work fast if I want tonight to pay off.
Her long skirt and halter top scream laid-back hippie from decades past while my daisy dukes and motorcycle boots tell a whole other story. She’s frilly and quiet while I’m tomboy rowdy. As college juniors, we would joke about her love of kohl eyeliner over my obsession with falsies which I gave up a long time ago. But that is where our differences end.
We share everything from our favorite books to food and bands. She knows everything there is to know about me. Except forhim. Some secrets don’t deserve the breath of life. Not when they already steal so much of my soul.
I’ve kept her far away from that part of my life for good reason.
I grab her arm and pull us to a stop. “Okay, you need to trust me right now. I have an idea.”
Pleading eyes turn on me. “Err…okaayy.”
So I might have landed us in jail a couple of summers ago which earns me the mistrust I see in her eyes.
I check the street signs. “Yeah, this is the spot. A friend told me about a busy Latin club and I want to see you work your moves on the dance floor before we have to head back to reality.” Now that the ink has dried on our college diplomas, I have choices to make. Go home and stay with my family—not an option. Or…I don’t know. One problem at a time, I guess.
I change our trajectory and pull Arabelle down a dark alley before spinning us out a block over into a busy street. Locals mill around and the sound of salsa music spills into the street from a line of clubs. Seriously, you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Which explains the source of the bongos and cigar smoke. Wide terraces extend out from the clubs and on the balconies are tens of partygoers out enjoying a humid New Orleans Saturday night.
Glittery dresses and nicely dressed men are all over the place. Beside me, Arabelle looks down at herself and wrinkles her nose. I do the same for myself. Yep, cocky, sassy, and a little bit of trouble. Just the way I like it. No one messes with me when I look like I have zero fucks to give in the bank.
Designer clothes and cute hairstyles only draw the eye of the wrong people. When you look innocent it calls all the weirdos out like you have a flashing sign over your head daring them to abuse you.
So I opt for the clunky motorcycle boots, messy buns, and daisy dukes. Myfuck youvibe is off the charts and right where I want it.
But my friend seems conflicted. I lightly shake her shoulders. “None of that. Here. Take my lipstick.” Using her darkened phone screen Arabelle swipes on a pretty healthy dose of fuck-me-now-red before slipping it and her phone into her handbag. Good, it suits her better than me.
With a glide of fresh lip gloss and a brush of mascara over the tips of winged eyeliner, I’m good to go. The deep dip of my halter top and tight cling of my shorts over my ass gives a hint of dirty sexy fun. I sweep my hair up into a fresh bun, a few strands of my dark hair falling over my shoulders and the sides of my neck. My moves catch the eyes of a pack of men loitering near the door with half-finished beers and lust in their eyes.