were all over eighteen, or else they wouldn’t have been able to get into the club, he also knew that for many of them, this was their first year of independence, living away from home, and that they were pushing their limits. They were drinking too much too fast, dancing with the kind of guys he knew had bad reputations, and just making the kind of choices he wouldn’t want anyone he cared about doing.
One of his cousins was young, like the girls gyrating on the dance floor, and in college thousands of miles away, and he’d warned her to stay away from the nightclub life too. She’d only find trouble, not true love like many of the girls on the dance floor were looking for, and there were better ways of finding validation.
I don’t know why he’d shared this if he hadn’t planned on pursuing me seriously. Maybe he wanted to vent. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t listen and that it’d be a good way to pass the time. While it was true I didn’t catch most of what he said, honestly too #excited, #nervous, #enthralled, #enchanted to function, I had caught that part, his weakness. However, those words had given me power.
I pulled DeAndre over to the corner where Skylar was surveying the dance floor. Why wasn’t he looking at me? Why wasn’t he giving me attention? Why wouldn’t he look me in the fucking eye and either tell me to fuck off or that he wanted me? What was his fucking problem?
What was mine?
I stationed DeAndre in front of Skylar’s line of sight and bent over doing what I’d seen on television, rubbing my ass all over his crotch. He grabbed it and practically opened it like a peach. It was too much for me but I didn’t care. There were more important things to me that something stupid like limits, boundary, or comfort. There were things like honor, revenge, and reputation. I wasn’t about to let Skylar be the guy that blew me off or the one that got away. I was going to lure him in. I was going to make him want me. And then? I was going to reject him. I’d be the one to push him away, because I’d never let any guy be the one to push me away. How far would I go with it? Would I just deny him a dance? Would I keep showing up at the club, teasing him in shorter and shorter dresses? Or would I fuck him, getting up and leaving as I felt him get ready to cum? Would I date him for months until he proposed and then leave him in the dust?
No, this was just a game. It always had been, or at least, it always had to be.
“What now, Skylar? How do you like me now? How do you like me now, Skylar?” I kept teasing, not able to stop myself. I knew I’d taken too much that night, too many of those beautiful pills that I just had to collect in my mouth and transform into happiness just using my stomach and intestines (I had paid attention in bio), but I didn’t really care. DeAndre was smiling. He loved the attention and as his cock grew rock hard in his pants, I twirled around his body, the way that I might twirl around a pole if I’d been a stripper.
Secret: I’d almost considered doing that when I learned I hadn’t got my scholarship. I’d seriously considered moving out to LA anyway and starting to strip or maybe even get into porn. A girl from home had done that and of course, people had talked, but she had one of the biggest houses in town after she’d started in her movies. Rumor had it she kept cam whoring out of her house to pay the bills because she’d spent the money too fast. That wasn’t going to be me, though. That wasn’t going to be me. I was willing to do anything to get that degree and sacrifice my reputation now for a lifetime of comfort, but I’d never expected my parents to win the lottery, to be able to charge happiness that came in bottles and orange canisters with white labels to a black card, to be able to make everything disappear with some substances.
But what Skylar was looking at wasn’t me, but DeAndre. “You need to leave,” he said to DeAndre. I’d never taken
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