Unsocial (20 page)

When
we met Mindy last Thanksgiving, we had been surprised. But as the week went on,
it became apparent that they were truly in love.  We knew they had only been
together for a couple of months and probably didn’t know each other that well. 
So far everything that’s been said about her tonight boils down to how jealous
she was, blah, blah.  It’s pretty clear she didn’t really know Trevor before
they married, or she would have known he’s a chronic flirt, and he’s very good
at it.

He
had my teenage heart swooning when he would direct it at me, thus canceling out
all feelings of brotherly love. Take for instance, right now, Trevor is sitting
close and has his hand resting on my leg just below the hem of this short
skirt.  Total flirt if you add that to the fact that he keeps telling me how
good I look.  You know the usual lines.  Thankfully I feel comfortable enough
with him to know that it doesn’t mean anything, but it feels good.  I can’t lie
about the fact that Trevor is the real deal for being a sexy rocker with his bad
boy, brooding looks and a voice that’s as smooth as silk.  Makes a girl lean
closer just to get the total effect, which is exactly what I’m doing.

Roscoe
returns with shots, and on the count of three, we slam them back before
crashing the glasses to the table.  I’ve entered the zone of feeling free and
easy, enjoying good times with good friends.  “So, Brooke baby, now that you’re
rid of Limp Dick Will, who’re you spending your time with?”

And,
way to kill a buzz.

I
shoot a quick look over at Alex who seems way interested in my answer, judging
by the way that she’s sitting up in her chair. 
Deflect, deflect, deflect. 
“
No one.  It’s just me, And. My. Best Friend. Alexandra.”

Alex
relaxes back in her chair, “Gross, Brooke.  I may have made you hotter than
hell tonight, but I still am not into you that way.”  Everyone around the table
enjoys a good laugh as Alex and I go back and forth; me trying to convince her
to be my girl, and she telling me…no way.

The
lights flicker a couple of times signaling that it’s time for the band to take
the stage.  Trevor stands up next to me.  “Well, ladies.  That’s our cue.”  He
bends down and lands a loud kiss on my cheek then follows the rest of the guys
to start playing.

I’m
suddenly very tired.  The long, hard week, too much to eat at dinner, and
drinks have caught up with me.  I need another shower and my bed.  Alex looks
over at me.  “As soon as their set is over I want to leave.  I can’t handle
much more tonight without face planting.”

“Alright. 
You are looking a little tired.  But you promised we’re coming back tomorrow,
and I’m not letting you back out.  You have to admit that this was fun, and you
needed it.”

“Yeah. 
And I owe you a thank you. It’s exactly what I needed.  Now hush and let’s
listen to music.”  We settle back for an hour and a half of Trevor’s music
mixed with some 80’s cover music.  They rock the place, and everyone in the
club is in full-on party mode.  Dancing, drinking, and way too naughty clutches
between men and women are happening all around us while the music plays on. 
Then thankfully it’s time to go after we tell the guys and promise we’ll see
them the next night.

The
next time I open my eyes, sunlight is pouring through my window.  A look at my
clock which lets me know I’ve slept in late this morning.  I feel rested and
ready to start the day, which will consist of watching TV and lounging in
pajamas.  Last night was wonderful and after I had thought about it, I was
excited about going back out tonight.  And tonight I don’t want to go home
early.  That’s why I’m planning a late afternoon nap.

In
the living room, Alex is already searching for a rom-com on Netflix, that’s her
addiction.  I drop on the couch and put my head on her lap so she can play with
my hair.  Don’t think we’re weird.  She loves hair, and I’ve always loved
having my hair played with.  It’s how my grandmother used to put me to sleep. 
“You excited about tonight, B?” she asks.

“Absolutely. 
I had a good time.  And please tell me you have another dress for me, because I
don’t want to go shopping, and I doubt you’ll let me show up in jeans.”

“Need
you even ask?” She says, sounding affronted.

“No. 
Kidding.  I’m sure you’ve checked out the latest on-line sale of Hos-R-Us.”

“Yup,
and don’t worry, my last spree I kept you in mind, and I have just the thing.”

I
settle my head deeper in her lap.  “I’m not even going to pretend I’m not
worried, but right now I don’t even care.”  We settle down and watch movies,
snack on popcorn, and drink ice tea for the next few hours.  It turns out this
quiet day is what we need to get through the night.

Six
o’clock, and Alex is back in her closet digging through dresses like it’s a
Black Friday Sale.  I just lay there and watch stuff fly.  Alex shops and
shops, she’s pretty much made it a religion.  Me, not so much.  I borrow and
borrow, out of necessity.  There is nothing in me, even being a young modern
female that says girly-girl.  Jeans and t-shirts, that’s all I need in my
closet.

“Here
we go,” I look up and find Alex at the door of her closet holding a black
dress, I think.

“Here
we go, what?” I ask.  It’s getting hard to hold back the laugh.  She looks like
she just walked through a wind tunnel after fighting the contents of her
closet.

“You’re
dress,” she says impatiently giving the contents of her hand a shake.

I
take another look at it.  The top ties around the neck like a halter.  It’s a
deep purple with black lace overlaying it.  Pretty.  I’m suddenly wondering
what the skirt looks like.  “It’s pretty; I want to see the skirt,” I tell her.

She
glares at me impatiently.  “Brooke, there is no skirt.” Then she shakes the
thing at me again.

Okay,
pants it is tonight.
  I find this odd because she’s all about
sexy when it comes to clubbing. 
Hmmm, shorts? I can see that, plus shorts
are way sexier than pants.

“Okay,
where are the shorts or pants or whatever.  I can’t wait to see them.” I wiggle
my eyebrows up and down.  I’ve never been good at this little move and usually
has her rolling.  She told me once that it looked like the muscles in my
forehead were in a spasm, oh, and to please never do it in public.  She didn’t hurt
my feelings at all with that request.  But now I notice she’s not exactly
laughing.  Now, what?

She
speaks, slow like I don’t have a lick of sense.  “This. Is. The. Dress.”  Then
she shakes it at me again.

Wait
a minute.  That’s the dress?

“My
friend, you’ve clearly been duped here.  There’s not enough of….whatever that
is to constitute a dress.  Sorry.”

“Brooke,
don’t fuck with me.  I’ve just spent 30 minutes rooting through my designer war
zone to find this, and you are going to wear it. Capiche?”  She can’t be
serious.

“You
can’t be serious,” I say in astonishment.

“I’m
very serious.  Now don’t argue and do what I said.  And hurry, we still have to
do your hair and makeup.”  She kicks a pair of black spike heels across the
floor at me.  “And wear these with it.” She orders.

“Wait,
Alex.  We need to talk about this.”

“Discussion.
Closed.”  I watch her disappear into her designer war zone again, clearly in
shock.

I
pick up the yard of purple material covered in a yard of black lace.  I do not
think it’s so pretty anymore.  I’m thinking about how much money I could bring
in if I just stood on a stage and wiggled my ass for dollars while I circled
near a pole because there’s no way I would have the guts to get on a pole. But
I’m willing to bet I’d make enough to make a dent in my student loan debts.

Oh,
well, if tonight turns out to be a flop, this dress guarantees an option
two—stripping.

I
hear hangers clacking, shoes thudding, and some very colorful cursing coming
from Alex’s closet. I shrug my shoulders and go shower.  Hopefully, by the time
I’m out, she’ll have fought her way back out, victorious of course.

After
my shower, I’m back in Alex’s chair going through my transformation. After what
she’s suggesting I wear for a
dress
, I should probably be worried about
my makeup and hair, but I don’t want to stir her up.  I really should just
trust her.  I take a deep breath and let it out.  I’m in her hands.

Once
again, I’m in awe because I’m
staring at a freaking miracle. 
My eyes look seductive, or maybe that’s secretive….I’m going with secretly
seductive.  Ha, this is so not me, but I’m going to go with it and just have
fun.

“Okay,
Dress.  Now.” She orders.

“Yes,
ma’am.” I salute.

In
my room, I take the dress off the hanger and step into it.  It pulls tightly
over my hips and up to my breasts.  There’s a built-in bra, of sorts, that keep
things just barely covered.  After I tie it behind my neck, I turn all the way
around and study my image from every angle.  The first thing I do is make a
mental note, do not, do not, do not bend over….or raise your arms (which will
seriously suck if I’m dancing).  But damn. The thing straddles the line of
decent.  I slip on the heels.  I do look good, great…..no, I look fucking hot.

The
ladies are showcased perfectly by a deep V.  The color makes my skin tone pop. 
The skirt hugs my ass just right because it fits tight and ends just far enough
to keep me covered properly---providing I don’t make any sudden movements.  The
heels help the whole picture by lifting my butt, tightening the muscles in by
calves and thighs, and making my legs look like I belong up there somewhere
with a runway model.

“Brooke,
come here.”  I give myself one last look and head to find out what my fashion
guru wants.  I can’t wipe the smile off my face.  The image of myself in the
mirror makes me happy.

I
walk in Alex’s room.  “What’s up, slut?”

“Come
over here, I want to spray some of this on you.”  I walk toward her, and she
holds up a can.

“What
the hell is that, because it doesn’t look like perfume?” I ask eyeing the
contents of her hand.

“It’s
a scented body glitter.  I got it online.  I’m going to spray it all over you. 
It makes you shine under the lights on the floor.”

I
hesitate.  Oh, what the hell.  I walk over and let her do her thing.
Shit
that’s cold.
  When she’s satisfied, I look in the mirror hanging on the
back of the door.

Well,
now. This just keeps getting better.

“Okay,”
I say impatiently, “Let’s go.”  I’m suddenly anxious to get this night started.

Once
again we’re seated right in front of the stage.  Camden, the drummer, and
Trevor are the only band members sitting with Alex and me tonight.  Apparently
Roscoe and Toby hooked up with a couple of groupies last night and are partying
backstage before their set begins.  They don’t go on until 10, so we’ve got a
couple of hours to kill.  Drinks are flowing, but I’m taking it easy.  I want
the night to last before another work week sneaks up on me, so I’m nursing a beer
because I love my Corona and lime.  I lean over to Trevor because I decided I
want to dance.

“Hey,
I’m gonna run to the restroom, and when I get back, you and I are dancing.”

“Well,
damn, girl.  Don’t keep me waiting.” I laugh and hurry so I can get back.  I
love dancing. Since last night was mostly about catching up, tonight’s going to
be about music and dancing.

Back
at the table, I grab Trevor’s hand and start pulling him to the floor.  The
place is packed, so we have to slide in between couples on the floor.  Alex and
Camden have followed us, and we just kind of form a small group and move.  Arms
are raised high, and I don’t even care if people know I’m wearing a black lace
G-string---okay, maybe I do---but not enough to stop dancing.  Trevor and I
sway and roll around each other while song after song play.  People are pushing
us closer.  Camden and Alex are flat out body to body grinding next to us. 
Panic! At the Disco is pumping
Victorious
through the speakers.  Chaos
feels so close but still retained.  I miss this.  I miss this letting it all go
at the door and disappearing in the music with strangers out to do the same
thing. Hard beats, loud sounds, sweating skin, bodies moving, hearts racing,
this is being young and having fun.

Trevor
turns away to listen to something Camden and Alex are saying just as
I Like
by Jeremih ft. Ludacris fills the air.  And who can resist this song. My body
takes over, channels the music, and I close my eyes and just move.  I feel
strong, muscular arms circle my waist and pull me back against a tall, equally
muscular body. 
God, that body feels good.
  I lift my right arm and
reach my arm around the neck of the body behind me, and just relax into the
hard solid form that’s pressed to me and moving his hips in sync with mine. 
His head drops to my shoulder, and lips press against the skin there before
they begin moving toward my ear just as his left hand moves to the hem of my
skirt where it starts tracing sexy shapes on my hip, the touch is burning my
skin.  I’ve never been this aware of a body in my life.