I shake it off, bumping shoulders with Cali and Jules as I fall in step between them. “I’ve reconsidered my decision not to drink today. I could use one.”

Or three.

I frown.

Jesus Christ.

Cali claps and at the exit, the doorman returns our bags and off we go to get drunk somewhere.

Chapter 3

It’s close to eleven p.m. when we walk into Dojo, a nightclub owned by Dax’s parents, with an entire upper level dedicated to him and his friends, none who are of age. Well, maybe a few are. He does allow his fellow lacrosse players to lead the occasional strays up from the actual nightclub downstairs.

I thought to ask Jules if his parents were aware of this added space but decided it’s another one of those unspoken rich kid things. Nobody wants their kids causing a drunken scene or getting caught on candid camera outside of paparazzi-powered venues, so might as well give them their own fake IDs, not that they’re needed, and private hush-hush rooms, right?

I legit believe that’s the thought process some of these parents use when it comes to their privileged spawns.

Give us what we want and out of your way we stay.

Kicking off the weekend by making an appearance, if not ending the night here, is yet another routine in the summer socialite party scheme. ‘Club Friday,’ I’m told, continues throughout the academic year where house parties die down in favor of school events, among other things that provide the guys and girls with the opportunity to one-up their peers.

This is one of those expected evenings I prefer, though. At least here it’s more of a moving scene, a larger mix of people, rather than the same faces as always. Here, there’s a blended crowd, students from the surrounding schools and others who know a guy who knows a guy who knows Dax.

I can see why everyone enjoys this place. The girls said it was decent, simple, but I’m guessing that was their way of ‘warning me’ it wouldn’t be coated in gold and high-quality silver, because some require such a thing of the places they visit. I know they do, but I happen to like it.

The concept is wide open, the only seating being a continual leather booth-like seat that runs along three full walls, and a few curved couches, closing them in every five or six feet, with small circular tables wedged between them. The back side is left open for the bar, and a short hall that leads to the bathroom.

The lighting is teal blues and purple LED strips, all strung tightly in every crevice of the place, including the rims of the tables.

“Okay, drinks first and then dancing?” Amy, Jules’ far more egocentric twin, who is easy to tell apart as her hair is cropped short and dyed blonde, suggests with a smile.