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“It’ll upset you.”
“Tell me.”
“Those women have been staring at us all night, and I swear I just saw one of them point and laugh at you.” It’s ice down my spine. “Like, what the fuck? You’re just trying to dance. Back off. At least you’re not wearing skinny jeans.”
I shouldn’t look. Morgan is right. It’s only going to upset me. And we’re here to have fun. So what if someone is looking at me? It could be for any reason.
I have to remember it’s okay.
It’s what Sebastian would tell me if he was here.
Am I dancing weird? Doing too much? I can’t tell. I slow to a shuffle, hyper-conscious of who could be watching. I’m not a dancer. Sebastian might think I’m sexy, but surely he’s just biased.
I can’t seem to coordinate my limbs right anymore, but Morgan continues, annoyed but still moving to the beat with ease. “Yeah, we get it. We’re hot. Jesus, I think she just took a photo. What the fuck?”
It’s okay.
Don’t think about it.
It’s just one person.
It doesn’t matter if they’re judging me.
Over and over, I recite Sebastian’s words as best I can, trying to tap into the confidence I’ve slowly been building within myself. I’ve done amazing things. I don’t need to please everyone. Messing up is okay.
So what if I dance like a dork? I’m just having fun.
Of course, fun feels like light-years away right now.
“Like she can even talk, in what she’s wearing. Your dress is nowhere near as bad as hers.”
Alcohol and curiosity win out, and I finally turn my head. It’s hard to make out in the dark, but I think I see two women looking over. One is in a pink slip and the other is dressed in jeans and a cami. Pink looks over, and I whip my head back around.
It’s too much.
I make my way to the bathroom on shaky legs. Everything is turned up to eleven now. My head is foggy, my heart is going a mile a minute, my mouth is bone dry. I can’t even tell how bad I look, because when I check the mirror in the bathroom, everything is fuzzy around the edges.
I really need to drink more water.
Especially considering what happens next.
There’s a flash of pink behind me, and it’s her. The girl. She greets me with a smile, but the moment her eyes sweep over me, all I can hear is Morgan telling me how she laughed.
“It’s really rude to make fun of people,” I tell her,because if she’s going to judge, then she should be held accountable. “I don’t know what I did to you.”
She blinks. “Um, okay. Sorry.”
It’s not what I’m expecting. Not because she apologized, but because it sounds like she has no idea what I’m talking about. She’s wide eyed now, taking a step away from me, and I realize I’ve walked up to her.
“Did you take a photo of us?” The foreboding feeling is back, rising from the depths with a good amount of vodka. I’m in her face now. She laughed. Is probably going to tell this story to her friends tomorrow and keep laughing. “My friend said you did.”
“I really didn’t.” And oh god, now she looks worried. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get someone?”
Am I okay?
No. I’m the furthest thing from okay.
Oh my god. This is the sickening mantra running through my brain right now.Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.
