The Stranger

30

“Move your ass from that couch! We are going out.”
I raise my gaze from my phone and look at my sister, who decided to stay with me after my parents went home.
She is wearing a mini dress that leaves no doubt about her intentions for the night.
“Where should we go?”
“Dancing!”
“No way I am going.”
“Don’t act like a sad widow, and get dressed!” She leans her hand forward and grabs my arm. “Let’s go! It will be fun. Mary is waiting for us.”
I puff and grunt. I shake my head in annoyance and tiredness.
Maybe I was born with the soul of an old man, and I am becoming more and more boring and grumpy, but why can’t I relax watching a movie or dream about my handsome boyfriend?
This is my idea of happiness, and with Matt in bed next to me, it would be perfection. But I can leave for a night simply with happiness.
I don’t understand why she has to act like a tiger in a jungle. Always on alert. Always ready to fight or eat alive her pray. Especially when it comes to men.
She is the one to make the first move and set the rules, deciding when it’s the right time to start the game and when it’s the time to let it go.
I can’t really understand how she can leave always like this. It’s so stressful and unnerving. It’s one thing when she is dealing with a case. A lawyer, especially a woman, needs to appear stronger and secure than a man. In fact, most of the time, her clients are vicious and more important: guilty. And she needs to be firm, and have control over the situation. But in her personal life, she shouldn’t wear the suit of the lawyer.
It seems to me that she leaves her life in a courthouse.
“Why don’t you call Mary, and we stay here?”
“I am not staying in your sad apartment. We. Have. To. Go. Out.”
“Okay, I will go, but I am not changing.” I am not going to waste my time in choosing some shirt or pants.”
“You could come in your pajamas. I don’t care,” she says, humming some Maroon 5’s song and walking through the door.
She wins like always!

We go to get Mary and then straight to this new club called Poison, where there are a bunch of desperate people, searching for quick sex. All of them wearing expensive clothes and showing colorful drinks in their hands.
Mary orders something for us too, before going to our table, where a couple of colleagues of Emily were having fun.
I spotted Peter from afar, and immediately grabbed my sister’s arm. “Why is he here?”
“Who?” she shouts, blinking innocently.
“Don’t pretend with me! We know each other too well,” I yell in frustration because I can’t argue properly with her due to the loud music.
“Don’t complain about everything. Let’s go!”
She forced me to come here on purpose because there was Peter, and not caring to put me in an awkward position.
The same old Emily!
I walk behind her, with my eyes roaming through the dance floor, avoiding on purpose to look at the people seated at our table.
They are laughing loudly, even though it is almost impossible to hear the person next to you. But I guess some people don’t need to have an actual conversation to have fun. The alcohol and the brainwashing music are more than enough.
I try to listen to Mary’s words, but requires too much effort, considering she is already tipsy. So I just nod and shrug my shoulders time to time.
Emily is running to the dance floor, and almost everybody seated with us are joining her. Obviously, I stay comfortable curled in my spot, admiring how the human spices appear dumber than a chicken on some specific occasions. And looking at it, I feel amused and sad at the same time, because I always felt ridiculous moving on a dance floor like a snack and circling like a creepy around some guy for attention during all night. Showing off sexy moves that are more moves of a monkey than seductive. Especially when you are rigid like a secular tree.
My sister is studying her pray, before making her attack. Naturally, she is good even in picking up some random dude for one night stand. Very professional in her hunting game. Just like in her job.
Mary is jumping right and left with a decent looking man. Hopefully, she would be lucky too tonight, because usually, she is helpless and unlucky like me.
No wonder she is my best friend!
Understanding me better than my family or my sister, even though, when comes the time to protect me from men or my own feelings she is thick head and unreasonable like Emily.
I linger in the crowd a few more minutes, laughing like a baby when a drunk Emily fall on some hulk, spilling her drink on his white shirt before feeling a hand on my shoulder.
I turn around and find a sweet face smiling at me. “Hi!”
“You are a very bad guy.”
“Why?”
“Because if I didn’t come to say hi, you wouldn’t give me even a glance.”
“Sorry. I saw you having fun with your colleagues, and I didn’t want to intrude.”
He shakes his head. “Liar.”
I don’t deny further his accusation because it’s true and because I don’t want any problem with him or Matt.
“So, no boyfriend tonight?”
I roll my eyes, hating this question. “He is busy.”
“At one a.m.? An authentically workaholic.”
“He is simply busy,” I remark with a slice of irritation in my voice.
“This means that I am extremely lucky tonight,” he says beaming.
“And why so?”
“Well… because you will be mine all night.”
I make a horrified face, scared by his self-confidence, already picturing an exhausted me, fighting against Peter’s insistence.
Because turning down a sweet guy like him requires a strong will and no weakness.
“I don’t think I will stay much longer. I had a tiring day at work and tomorrow it will be worst.”
“I can give you a ride if you want. I don’t think your sister would leave soon.” We glance at the dance floor at the same time, discovering Emily glued to a tall guy like a jellyfish.
She has finally attacked her pray, and from his involvement, I would say: successfully.
“I have my car, and I have Mary with me.”
“Brrr…you are impossible to persuade. It’s really frustrating.”
I shrug and stand up ready to call Mary and go home, but he follows me.
After fighting against sweaty bodies and drunk jerks like a gladiator in the arena, I join Mary, who is grinning to the same guy from the dance floor.
“Hey,” I shout, gaining her attention. “I am leaving, are you coming?”
“I will stay. Sorry,” she replies, with flushed cheeks.
“Okay!” I give her a hug, even though, after hours spent dancing in a packed space, it’s  highly recommended don’t hug or kiss any human beings until a purifying shower, but she is my friend, so it’s okay.
I wave rapidly to my sister and run out of the club, searching for my car in the parking lot.
“Not so fast.” I hear Peter’s voice behind me.
“Are you still here?” I turn around and search for my keys at the same time.
“Can we meet tomorrow or the day after? Just a coffee,” he explains, bouncing on his feet. Clearly, he is nervous and a bit drunk. His eyes are glistening, and there are shades of red in them.
“Peter,” I sigh. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“It is just a coffee. Are you scared to fall for me?”
“My feelings are clear, even if you are a great guy. Your feelings are the problem.”
“Is it because I like you a lot?” he asks, giving me a sad smile. “It is my problem.”
“It is also mine if you keep saying these things or kissing me by surprise.”
“Your lips are really inviting.”
“Okay, that’s enough! Good night, Peter.” I walk to my car, but he calls me. “Lucas…”
“Wh…” I raise my eyes, and I see his face a whisper away from mine, then in a breath, his lips are on my cold lips.
It is a quick kiss. Just a little taste.
“Still soft,” he states, with a winner expression splashed on his face.
“Fuck, Peter!” I mumble in shock.