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“Tell me again why Erin and Jacob combined their bachelor and bachelorette parties,” he says.
“Don’t know.” I shrug. “This place looks fancy.”
“More than we’re used to.”
JJ, Erin, and I grew up several hours south of Chicago. Our town has a four-way stop, a dingy motel, and a gas station. Our version of a club was a hole-in-the-wall bar with a pool table and two dart boards.
JJ nudges me with his elbow. “It would appear we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”
I glance up at him. “You know, we could always cut out early and go catch that movie you’ve been wanting to see.”
“You’re right,” he says flatly. “We should totally bail.”
“Really?” I ask, hopefully.
“No,” he admonishes. I slap his chest, and he lets out a soft oomph. “I was joking. We can’t bail. This is Erin we’re talking about. And she’s only going to get married once, which means only one bachelorette party, so we should be here to celebrate with her.”
“You’re right.” I pout. “It’s just…you know how I feel about these sorts of parties.”
“You do realize it’s okay to socialize, right?”
“I socialize.” I cross my arms over my chest.
JJ rolls his eyes. “Let me rephrase. It’s okay to make new friends.”
“I have plenty of friends.”
“No, you don’t. You have acquaintances. The only friends you have are me and Erin, and Erin doesn’t really count because she’s getting married and it’s only a matter of months before she drops off the grid.” He pauses and whispers, “Don’t tell her I said that.”
I roll my eyes. He knows me better than that. “Quantity doesn’t matter. It’s about quality.” I leave out the fact that I prefer to have acquaintances. The more people you let in, the more you have to lose. And I’ve lost enough already.
“Well,” JJ says smugly. “I won’t argue with that. But still, you’re all work and no play.”
“Work is good. It keeps my mind occupied.”
He huffs, clearly at his limit for my excuses. “You know what else keeps your mind occupied? Fun. Let loose for once. Have some fun.”
“And you want me to do that here?”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
I turn back toward the building. Maybe he’s right. I can’t recall the last time I had a night out. It’s been at least a year, if not longer. And no one here knows me as anything other than ‘Erin’s friend from back home’ except Erin’s family, and they love me.
“We’ll see,” I say.
JJ gives me a look.
“What? I refuse to make any promises.”
“Fine,” he says, draping an arm around my shoulders. “Just promise you’ll at least consider it.”
“I’ll consider it if you promise not to let them drape penises around my neck or put them in my drink. Oh, and I don’t want to write on one, ride one—” JJ looks at me funny. “An inflatable one,” I clarify. “I don’t want to ride an inflatable one.”
“Good Lord,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “What in the world do women do at these things?”
“You don’t even want to know.”
“Yes, but I’m about to find out.”
