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“Somehow, I don’t think you’re the latter,” she determines.
“You say that just because I thought your sweater was ugly?”
She stares into my eyes, and for a moment, I think she sees everything about me. Every desire. Every secret. Every darkness.
She should be scared, but instead she seems…curious.
“Hey, don’t see you on the dance floor often,” a voice cuts in.
It’s JD, and he has Amy with him. The young woman laughs and leans against him. Obviously drunk. She might have only had two drinks or so, but she’s petite, so it probably doesn’t take much alcohol to get her wasted.
“She get anything to eat?” I ask JD.
“Do the mint leaves in a mojito count?” JD responds.
Bridget looks at her friend with concern but says nothing. Within minutes, Amy and JD aren’t so much dancing as they’re making out, until Amy stumbles and backs JD into another couple.
“Maybe we should get something to eat,” Bridget suggests.
“Yes, we should,” I agree.
The four of us head upstairs to the balcony after Bridget grabs her drink and sweater from the bar. Kimberly is no longer there. I saw her on the ground floor talking to Harry Chen, a fashion designer and distant relative of mine.
A spread of lobster dumplings, abalone-topped shumai, oxtail xiao long bao with Sevruga caviar, and fresh mango and lychee await us.
“OMG,” Amy gushes over the food.
Bridget’s eyes also widen. JD opens a bottle of Moutai and sets down four glasses as I take a seat on my preferred chaise, where I can see everything below.
“Is that alcohol?” Bridget asks of the Moutai.
“Yeah, it’s baijiu,” JD answers.
“Thanks but I’ll pass.”
“You ever try baijiu before?”
“No, but I’m not twenty-one yet.”
He stops pouring to look at her. “You’re not serious?”
“Well, I turn twenty-one in two months.”
“No, I mean you’re not serious that you don’t drink because you’re not twenty-one yet?”
“Pretty much.”
JD looks at me, stunned. He turns back to Bridget. “You’re joking.”
“I’ve never seen her drink,” Amy chimes in. “Even at frat parties.”
“Who doesn’t drink just ’cause they’re not twenty-one yet?”
I sit back, mildly amused by JD’s shock. I’m curious as to her answer.
“Are you like super religious or something? Like a Mormon?” JD asks.
“No. Just law-abiding,” she answers.
