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"You just told me yesterday that you're broke. I'm not doing spectacularly well, either."
"One night out won't make that much of a difference."
“I had planned to send more applications tonight.”
Along with all my prayers, a voodoo doll, and anything else that might help elicit a positive response.
“You can send them tomorrow. It’s Saturday, so no one will read them until Monday anyway. It won’t make a difference when you send them.”
"Jess…"
"I know what you're doing, and you're not fooling me. You can't just lock yourself up in your room with that computer for the whole weekend."
"I won't," I say defensively. "I'm meeting Abby in one hour for the volleyball match."
"Couldn't pull the chickenpox stunt any longer, huh?"
"No, I want to go."
"Good," she says decisively. "You will also go out with me tonight. And you'll be wearing this." She points at the tiny piece of black fabric on the bed.
The black dress doesn't look half as shocking on me as I remember. It's still short, but the golden not-too-high sandals and Jess’s matching minuscule purse give me an elegant rather than a slutty air. Or maybe it's just the comparison with the six-feet-tall blonde standing in line in front of me that makes me think so highly of myself. Her bright yellow skirt is one palm shorter than mine, her neckline plunging so deep I can see her navel. In stark contrast, the girl next to her seems to have borrowed my volleyball outfit from earlier today.
"I can't believe the idiot wouldn't let us in." Jess stomps her foot, glaring at the doorman. We went directly to him when we arrived, with Jess flaunting her most charming smile, which usually gets us in anywhere without having to wait in the line. Not in this case.
"I can't believe we are celebrating your trip to London in this place," I say in disgust.
"The cheapskates we are meeting chose the location. Besides, we can't afford to be picky. At least this place is cheap."
"As long as whatever they put in their cocktails is FDA approved," I mumble to myself.
Jess looks as gorgeous as ever, wearing a pair of black satin trousers and a red halter top. We stand in line for five minutes before we enter the club, Jess pointedly looking in the other direction when we pass the doorman. The place is just as run-down as I remember it from three years ago, when I spent exactly one hour inside before fleeing. For Jess's sake, I'll try longer this time.
"Do we know where everyone is?" I ask as we descend the shabby staircase to the dance floor, the bass rhythm drumming in my ears already.
Jess gestures me to follow her as we reach the dance floor. It's not as packed as it should be on a Saturday night, and when we arrive at the bar, I understand why. Everyone, our group included, is hovering along the counter, desperately trying to get the attention of the bartender. Four of Jess's classmates, two guys and two girls, are among them. I only know one of the guys personally—Jason, from the volleyball team.
Jason slips away from the group when he sees me. "I didn't know you were coming." He bends down to kiss me on both cheeks. "You look great," he adds, doing a lousy job at hiding his astonishment. I can't blame him. All Jason has ever seen me wearing are baggy T-shirts, shorts, and messy buns or ponytails. He, on the other hand, with his striking green eyes and six-pack visible under no matter what he is wearing, never looked anything other than hot.
"Thanks."
"What do you want to drink?" Jess yells at me from the bar.
"Just Sprite," I call.
She purses her lips. "You promised."
I really did promise her a toast. I'm the only one she told about the job interview so she can't celebrate with anyone other than me.
"Nothing too strong, please—with Red Bull in it."
"It'll take a while before any of us gets a drink," Jason says, flashing a smile as a new song starts. "Let's dance."
"Umm… I'd rather not," I say nervously and his smile drops. "I'm not very good."
And then I see her, on the other side of the dance floor, her black hair flowing in waves, not fake curls like last time, down her exposed back. Dani. What is she doing here? This is not a place for a girl with her status. She sees me too and waves at me frantically. A stabbing feeling starts building in my stomach. She can't be alone here. Sure enough, Parker appears beside her a second later and I take a breath of relief as I nod in his direction. Maybe it's just the two of them.
Maybe not.
