Page 6 of Good Girls Beg

"My thesis is important," I argued.

I was exploring the role of play for children with autism. Two areas of study I was passionate about. The areas, in fact, that led me to want to do my master's in special education in the first place. If you asked me, too many people downplayed the importance of play and the need to be aware of the needs of all children.

What can I say? My fathers raised me to have a soft heart. The opposite of the way I might have grown up if things turned out differently. I thanked my lucky stars every day for them. If they hadn't found me when they did…

"You've got that look again," Lyra said. "Stop nerding out and come out with me. We haven't had a good time for a long time. When was the last time you let your hair down?"

I hated to admit it, but she was right. It was a long time since I'd been out and had a few drinks, danced a little bit, had some laughs. Brought a guy home for the night.

"Fine, just for a little while," I said. I might even forget about trying to save Loams for an hour or two.

"Excellent." She punched the air. "We need to work out what to wear so we don't clash."

"Heaven forbid we clash," I said with a laugh.

"Never joke about clashing," she said, but she was laughing too.

While I sipped my tea, she started to plan our outfits.

CHAPTER THREE

TEDDIE

"This place is going off." Lyra pushed out of the ride share and closed the door behind her.

I took a moment to rate the driver and give her a tip before following my friend toward the front door of Vertical nightclub.

Located on the outskirts of Saltgrave, the place used to be a warehouse. It still looked like one on the outside, except for the banging music.

“Oh my fucking god, it's masquerade night," Lyra said, clutching my arm.

A collection of people, their face covered in a variety of masks, lingered near the door. Some smoking, others nursing drinks in plastic cups.

"Are you sure it's not a BookTok convention?" I asked, keeping my voice down so only Lyra could hear.

She grinned at me and laughed. "That sounds good, I might pick up a villain tonight."

Beside the door, a woman stood behind a table piled high with a variety of flimsy, plastic masks.

"How do I look?" Lyra said, picked up a mask to hold up in front of her. Bright pink with gold around the eyes, it covered half her face, leaving her mouth exposed. She pushed out her lips as if she was about to take a selfie, and posed with her hand on her hip. She could have been an Instagram model without the mask. With it, she looked mysterious and gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful," I said.

The mask I chose was more understated. Black with silver around the eyes and lips. It covered my whole face, leaving my hair to spread out around me like a crown.

"You look adorable," Lyra assured me. She grabbed my wrist and dragged me inside.

The place was packed. Bodies writhed to the music. Lights flashed. The whole place vibrated with energy and sound. Sweat and alcohol mixed with cologne and perfume.

The temperature inside was stifling in spite of the air conditioning. Thank fuck I'd worn a red tank top, and a black leather knee length skirt I'd borrowed from Lyra. She also wore a tank top, hers in black, contrasting with leather pants I never could have gotten away with. They hugged her figure in a way that made people stop and stare. They moved aside as she made her way towards the bar, me tagging along behind.

"Two vodka and orange, please," Lyra ordered the from the man behind the bar.

His face was covered in so many piercings, I lost count after the first twenty or so. A tattoo of a tiger wound its way down the side of his face. He had the kind of build that made him look terrifying, but a warm smile for both of us.

He made our drinks and slid them over to us before moving on to another customer.

I picked up mine, slipped the straw under my mask and sipped, standing with my back to the bar so I could scan the room.