I had just stepped out of the shower when I heard Tracy buzzing from downstairs. She was early, which only meant one thing, she was going to try to dress me before we went out. Sure enough she arrived at my door with two old shopping bags overflowing with selections from the Tracy boutique, i.e. her massive closet.
"No, Tracy, no no no. I've worked all day with dragon breath, I just want to be comfortable and relax tonight. Besides," I said ignoring her crestfallen expression, "I already picked something out and ironed it too." I retreated to my bedroom and came back in my vintage Levi jeans and loose green turtle neck, smiling and spinning around for her to appraise.
She turned her nose up at it, "Where are you going in those mom jeans?? You know for someone with such impeccable decorative skills, you are seriously lacking in the fashion department," she said gesturing to the lavish decor filling my loft on the top floor of the building my parents owned. They had agreed to let me to live there rent free after college if I had come up with a design concept for the building and each separate apartment and help with the labor. It was a sweet deal for me because not only did I get the apartment on the top floor to myself, I got to use my designs toward building my portfolio, landing me the job at Limon. At 22 it had been more than a notion coming up with something modern and economical for the old building, but it was well worth it.
"Well let me do your hair and makeup at the very least, I did haul all that stuff over here," she said just as id began brushing my wet tendrils into my staple low bun.
"Alright," I said conceding, putting the brush down, "but hair and makeup only."
By the time we were ready to leave, around 9pm she had not only done my hair and makeup, but finagled me into heeled boots, leggings, and a fitted dusty rose sweater. I had to admit I looked great. The leggings hugged my butt and the sweater showed off my tiny waist.
Tracy stood in front of me admiring her work, she had tamed the front of my wild spirals into two braids across my forehead, letting the rest hang wild and free in the back, almost reaching my bra strap. "I almost forget how great your figure is Bre, you keep it so well hidden behind frump, if I had your body I would show it all the time."
"You have your own great body Trace... And you DO show it all the time," I said laughing, it was true, she did have a great body and she was very slim so she could get away without wearing bras and dressing like a model. I had more curves than her but I was very self conscious about them and kept covered.
"I only wish you had contacts, I did a great job on your eye makeup, you really should invest. There's no need to cover up bedroom eyes like those."
"You know I can't touch my eyeballs, remember when I tried that sample pair of contacts on picture day my freshman year of high-school-" Tracy fell on my sofa in fits of laughter, "and got it stuck in my eyelid and the nurse had to get it out for me? It was horrible, my eyes watered for hours after that. My parents didn't know about it and ordered those pictures, I looked like I had pink eye, it was horrible. I didn't even buy my yearbook because of it." I shuddered reliving the horror.
"Funny as it was, I think you should give them another try. I don't know, maybe go to the doctor this time so he can show you how to do it the right way?" Tracy was still having little convulsions of giggles as we headed out to her car.
We headed to a surprisingly nice and low key spot I had never been to called Ocean Lounge. Floor to ceiling dark blue tufted leather booths lined the walls and smaller tables sat a step below them surrounding a large wooden dance floor. A huge bar was lit with icy blue lighting, popular neo music played at a decent level in the background. We took a booth in the corner and after a few drinks each were soon laughing hysterically at each others anecdotes. That was the thing about Tracy and I, no matter how bad things were going we could always count on the other to make it a laughable situation.
When the waiter passed back through Tracy ordered another drink, but I had reached my limit at 3 on a work night. Tracy, however could probably drink her weight in liquor and operate a spaceship afterwards, I don't know where she put it all.
The lounge had began to fill with more people and I could feel the music pulsing in me, making me want to dance. If there was one thing I wasn't shy about, it was dancing, I knew how to move my body. I had danced classically from the time I was three up until I reached puberty and got curves. I had become self conscious that I was no longer stick thin like the other ballerinas and quit. Mom had been crushed. However, my body could never forget the flexibility and quickness I'd gained from it. I put those skills towards teaching pilates on the weekends. But no honed skills or 8-count were needed to tell my body how to move to this driving beat, it flowed through me like my own blood. Slightly buzzed I grabbed Tracy's hand and we made our way through the crowd.
In the middle of the third song we'd danced to in a row, a tall brown skinned guy with smooth skin came up to Tracy and gripped her in a tight hug. He was handsome with low cut hair, dimples and nice teeth. Tracy motioned me back toward our table where she introduced me to Marcus, who shook my hand and introduced me to his friend that I hadn't noticed on the dance floor. His name was Landon, he was also tall and darker in complexion, he was more solidly built than Marcus and his well-defined muscles were prominent in his dark maroon long-sleeved sweater. As I wondered how Tracy knew them they sat down across from us and ordered drinks.
"Sorry we were late," Marcus started, "parking was horrible." I kicked Tracy hard under the table, set up again! I looked over and gave her the side eye, to which she just smiled and started up a conversation. When I looked away from her I caught Landon's eyes on me. I looked away quickly, face slightly warm. Tracy tried to include me in the conversation but I was mostly quiet, slightly uncomfortable around such good looking men I didn't know, especially since I kept catching Landon's dark eyes on me. When his drink came he leaned across the table and asked me if I'd ever tried a Red Brazil, indicating his glass he offered it towards me. Not wanting to be rude and only because he hadn't drank from it yet, I took a sip. It was tangy and slightly sweet with hints of pineapple and papaya, it didn't taste too strong so I took another.
"That's delicious," I said sincerely. He smiled and nodded sipping from the straw I'd just used and licked his lips seductively.
"It is delicious," he said looking at me rather than the drink. Now my face was really hot. "I saw you dancing earlier, would you like to join me?"
I weighed that option against continuing to sit awkwardly at the table while Tracy shamelessly flirted with Marcus. "Yea let's go," I got to my feet, feeling more buzzed than the last time I had stood up, and led the way to the dance floor. I wouldn't have to hold a conversation there or look him in the eyes. He was a great dancer and we moved well together. Over the next couple of hours, he had put several more drinks in my hand and I was feeling more liberated than I had since my brief party phase in college. He held my hips close, our bodies in sync as a reggae beat started. The lights pulsed red and the base dropped, that was the last thing I remembered before my alarm clock blared at 7 am the next morning.
