I nod eagerly and take another sip.
Remy's the one that finally acknowledges the elephant in the room. "Hailes, you have to get better at dealing with assholes. If we weren't there, would you have told him no?"
I immediately sober as the reality of our situation ten minutes ago washes over me. "I did tell him no," I defend weakly.
She shakes her head. "Only when he grabbed you. Would you have let him sweet talk you in the beginning?"
"I didn't want to be rude," I say weakly.
Remy sighs. "Hailey, you're single now. And hot as fuck. That's going to happen more often now, and I don't want you to get hurt just because you can't say no to men."
I take another sip of my drink, staying quiet instead of responding to her comment. I don't mention that I didn't feel like Icouldsay no to him. That it was only when he blatantly crossed the line that I was able to push back on him. If he had been subtle with his advances, like in the beginning, I would have continued to be polite. I would have done what I'm used to when it comes to men.
Suddenly, I get flashbacks of Steve's quiet manipulation, of my subconscious wishes for him to, just once, be obvious about his abuse so I could finally point to it and sayokay, there, that's why I was right to push back. Because without the over-the-line behavior, I'm stuck in the trap of man-pleasing that Steve buried me in.
Remy sighs again when she sees that I'm not miraculously going to start cursing at every man who dares look at me. She just nudges my shoulder and says, "You know I'll rip apart every douchebag that tries to hurt you. But I want you to be comfortable with putting up boundaries on your own, you know?”
Instead of answering, I just nod. I don’t bother explaining my thought process, because I know no matter what I say, she’ll never understand what it’s like to not be willing to shit on a man without fear of consequences.
"Alright, enough about shitty men," Lucy interrupts with a grin. "It's girls' night, and we're at a gay bar. Let's get drunk and dance."
And for the next two hours, we do just that. We switch between the bar downstairs and the pop and rap/hip hop dancefloors upstairs, downing several cotton candy drinks and laughing way more than I can remember doing in the past few months. Lucy's the hilarious party girl of the friend group, so between her energy and Remy's constant encouragement, my face hurts from laughing at these two. And when I think about the fact that I've been missing this in my life, I'm only sad for a moment.
Because it hits me that even though I could've been doing this the whole time I've lived in the city, mynowis the only thing that matters.NowI am free—free to spend time with whoever I want, free to do whatever I want. No person in your life that cares about you should be holding you back from doing anything that's safe and that makes you happy.
And right now, I'm doing something I love with people I love, and I'm enjoying myself while I do it. And right now, I am happy.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom, want to come with me?" Remy yells in my ear.
We're currently on the hip hop dancefloor, singing out loud to Doja Cat and shaking our asses to the beat of the music. I'm so swept up in the movement and in finally being able to dance again that I just shake my head in answer.
"I'm good here, I'll stay with Lucy," I shout back. She nods and heads toward the bathrooms, leaving me with a fairly intoxicated and very-horny Lucy, who is completely lost in the sensuality of the music right now.
In fact, less than thirty seconds later, she manages to catch the attention of a very attractive Asian girl, who wastes no time immediately sidling up to Lucy so she can grind against her.
I chuckle when I see the obvious lust in Lucy's eyes and know that we've officially lost her for the night. But I don't mind dancing by myself, so I just close my eyes and let my hips sway to the beat. I let the music guide my body, my hips rotating as I raise my hands above my head, a smile stretching across my face.
I don't even really mind it when hands land on my hips from behind. They're not aggressive, not pulling me into an unwanted hard-on, they're just holding me as my body moves.
"You're gorgeous," a male voice says in my ear. "You move like you were meant to dance."
I smile again, but keep my eyes closed. I just continue moving my body the way it's dying to do.
He must take my not pushing him away as acceptance because he pulls me flush against his body. It's still not quite aggressive—despite being able to feel his dick now—which is why I don't pull away. He seems to have a decent sense of rhythm so I just let our bodies flow together.
Again, he takes my non-resistance as acceptance because a pleased rumble sounds in my ear, and one of his hands slides from my hip to my stomach. He presses me harder against him, which still doesn't feel like the worst thing, but then his hand starts to trail lower.
I grab it to stop its descent. "Too much," I tell him in a tight voice.
He nuzzles into my neck, just barely running his lips over my skin. "What's your name, gorgeous?"
I shake my head, the spell of the music broken, leaving me instantly cold and nervous. "It doesn't matter," I respond tightly.
"You're not going to give me your name?" His words make it sound like he's offended, but the tone in which he says them sounds almost smug, like he's enjoying that I’m playing hard-to-get.
"No," I state firmly, even as it makes me nauseous to do so. This guy hasn't done anything wrong; he's just pushing the boundaries further than I want to go.
Is that really enough of a reason to be a bitch to him? What if he's a nice guy who just wants to get to know you? It's pretty rude to shut him down like this.