I shrugged, the cool night air teasing my exposed shoulders—but then, what wasn’t exposed? Diving headfirst into girlhood had taught me one thing: leave your modesty at the door. “Yeah, another bar sounds good. Wasn’t feeling the vibe here. And the guys? Totally gross,” I declared, earning a collective, drunken ‘yessss’ from the girls. Crowd pleaser every time.
Weaving through the crush of the bar (more club but rooftop bar sounds swankier for the girlies) it was a relief to cling to Savannah’s hand. The crowd, a forest of bodies taller than us, didn’t hesitate to let their gazes linger or their hands ‘accidentally’ brush against us. Savannah attempted to shout something over the blaring music, to her efforts useless. With a sharp tug, she veered off, pulling me through a sea of bodies to a booth where three guys were cracking up at a joke we arrived late for. Their laughter cut out abruptly as their eyes fixed on me, a silent conversation in the brief lock of their eyes. The tallest stood up from the booth, ready to speak but he was cut off by Savannah slamming her palms down on the table. The men jumped, eyes wide.
“Okay, three handsome boys. No rings, no bitches?” Savannah’s eyes were sharp, even if her words slurred. Her gaze pinned the one wedged deepest into the booth. “What’s your name?” she demanded. “I have a girlfriend,” he stammered out quickly. Part of me was relieved Savannah was doing the talking—even if her idea of taking charge was what had landed us here to begin with. But, admittedly, the aggressive approach was fun to watch. “You have a beautiful smile,” a voice shouted next to me, making me jump. The man had taken Savannah’s outburst as an opportunity to close the distance. “I’d love to talk outside. This music’s terrible.”
I could agree on the music, but not so much the company. “Sorry, my friend’s, like, really drunk. Y’know?” My words felt like I was bargaining, I still hadn’t figured this part out. “There’s some tables over there, away from the DJ. You could still see your friend from there,” he pressed. Finally turning to meet his eyes, I was scrambling for a polite excuse when he mistook my long glance as an invitation, leaning in to press a quick, wet kiss to my glossed lips. Stunned, I staggered back, my heart skipping in confusion—and something fluttery I couldn’t quite name. When I turned to find Savannah, she was already disappearing into the crowd, a man on each arm, leaving me to stare after her, flustered and a bit lost. The tall man was watching me with a puzzled, almost intrigued look. What had gotten into me.
