Broken Charms

Same Mistakes: Part Five

“It's only those who do nothing that make no mistakes, I suppose.”

― Joseph Conrad, An Outcast of the Islands

Harry

As soon as I climbed onto her bike behind her I suddenly sobered up.

I was torn.

Part  of  me  wanted  to  tell   her  it  wasn’t  a  good  idea,  that  she  should  take  the  night to  rest and  think about my proposal.  Another part of me was already thinking of how she would look on the dance floor. And then  in the back of my mind was the tempting thought that  I  should  take  her  into  her  apartment  and  prove  that  she  was  anything   but boring .

As usual, the responsible choice won out.

“Astrid... It’s been a long day. Are you sure you don’t want to do something a little less—” She cut me off. “I want to dance, Haz. I can do that with or without you.” She turned that killer pout on me and added, “Though being alone really isn’t the safest option.” She batted her eyes and smiled. She already knew she’d won.

“When I blow your mind with my dance moves, I expect an apology.” She  grabbed  my  hand  and  pulled  me  down  the  stairs  after  her. “We’ll see who blows whose mind.”

We headed north, into my area of the city.  We  pulled  up  outside what  looked  like  an  abandoned  warehouse  in  a  less  than  stellar  neighborhood.  I should know because it was mine.  I’d  passed  by  this  pl ace  numerous  times  and  just figured it was probably abandoned and filled with homeless people.

I asked her, “Did you want to dance or get murdered?” I hopped to my feet the minute she killed the engine of her bike. Astrid grabbed my hand and started tugging me toward the warehouse.

“Relax, Harry. I think you’ll like this place.” I liked her. Too much for my own good. I  could  feel   the  vibrations  from  the  music  before  we  even  entered  the  building .  It didn’t look like your typical club. There were couches and artwork painted onto the walls  that made  it  feel   like  a  cross  between  a  friend’ s  apartment  and  a  graffitied street  corner .  A   lot  of  building s  around  the  city  were  covered  in  murals  that spanned multiple stories. There was similar art on the walls here, but it was smaller, and up close you could see al l the detail work.

Astrid said, “Welcome to the Garage.” This  place  pulsed  with  the  same  vibrancy  that bled  from  Max’ s  every  word  and movement. It matched her. So yeah, she was rig ht. I liked it. It  didn’t  feel   like  normal   clubs  that  were  packed  tight  and  reeked  of  sweat with modern, upscale fixtures. This place had a heartbeat all its own. It had soul. I turned my eyes back to one of the mural s on the wall. It was all black and white and showed people singing   and others dancing.  It was simple, no color, and no frills.

But it was beautiful.

Astrid leaned up to my ear.  “ My  boss  at  the  tattoo  parlor  did  that  back  when  this place opened. He’s also the one that did this.” Tattoo parlor. That explained the abundance of art on her body. She  pulled  the  neck  of  her  shirt  down  to  reveal   smooth  skin,  tattoos, and enough cleavage to make my mouth go dry.

“Lucky guy.”

Someone  shouted Astrid’ s  name,  and  I  turned  to  see  her  jogging   over  to  one  of  the bartenders. When I caught up with her Astrid  beamed,  and  the  bartender  looked  between  us   like  he  didn’t  quite understand how we fit together. His  eyebrows  were  still   halfway  up  his  forehead  when  he  said,  “You  kids  have  a  good  night.”  He  poured  us  two  shots  on  the  house, and  then  turned  to  the  people  next  to  us  for  their  order. Astrid used her el bows to heft  herself  up  on  the  bar  and  gave  him  a  smacking   kiss  on  his  cheek.  At  the  moment  though ,  her  long   leg s  had  my  full   attention.  She looked over her shoulder and caught me staring.  As  she  slid  down  off  the  bar ,  she  didn’t  seem  to mind. In fact, her smile only widened.