“Um,” I say, returning my attention to her question. I have hooked up with women, obviously—I’m a coastal urban millennial. And I had a very realistic sex dream featuring Hazel the Precious Starlet once. But I’ve never felt attached to someone romantically. I love sex, but I am generally disgusted and turned off whenever anyone wants more than that.

I am confident that with Beau it will be different. I already want him to want me, to need me.

“I normally date no one,” I say.

“That’s so cool,” Cinnamon says.

She hands me the gold tray, and I weigh whether it’s worth it to snort the small line. My biggest fear is coming off overeager to Beau. I have to be myself: off-putting.

“You got this in the bag, Ice,” Cinnamon says.

I snort the line.

It is 1:46 A.M. when Beau finally walks over to us. I know the time because there is a clock by the ATM machine, I guess so people know to get money for the dancers before they close. They close at 2:00, so we’re really pushing it. But I don’t care. I am so high, just dancing with Cinnamon and periodically disappearing into the back room for a pick-me-up.

I may hate Vagablonde, ideologically, but she is a good DJ. Or maybe I am just high. I can’t recall any of the specific songs, but the mood feels right. She doesn’t play anything too “up.” It’s all down-tempo, seductive shit.

“Hi.” Beau leans on a barstool and my heart jumps into my throat.

“Hi,” I say. “This is my friend Cinnamon.”

“I’m Beau.” He brushes his hair to the other side of his head. “I don’t actually know your name.” He looks directly into my eyes and my skin prickles.

“Ice,” I say.

Cinnamon jabs my rib cage.

“Cool,” he says.

I’m glad he didn’t make a dumb joke about how I shouldn’t go anywhere near immigration court. Beau is even worse at small talk than I am. He’s the polar opposite of Thomas, who can talk to a wall.

“What are you doing after this?”

I open my mouth and nothing comes out.

“No plans,” Cinnamon says, saving me. This is the best night I’ve ever had. “What about you?”

“I think we’re gonna go back to my friend Jax’s house.” He tugs the bottom of his T-shirt and my clit vibrates. “If you all wanna come, it’s just around the corner.”

Once he is out of eyesight, Cinnamon lowers her voice and says, “You killed it.”

Then we go outside to smoke a cigarette. “Are we going to go?”

“I think we should stop by,” Cinnamon says. “Give him a little bit and then pull back. It makes people go insane.”