The music was far too loud and I could almost feel it thudding in my bones. Connie, though—Connie was in front of me and I could have sworn that she belonged there, on that dance floor. She was simply born to be there. Every eye in the club ought to have been on her, her hips swaying seductively to the beat. I didn’t make the conscious decision to do so but I edged closer to her and she smiled back at me, seemingly happy to accept the attention, and circled her arms around my neck.

I suddenly found myself completely at a loss as to what to do, feeling the abrupt need to either speak or disentangle myself from the moment entirely. “I really don’t like clubs,” I called out over the music.

Connie frowned. “Huh?”

I leaned in closer so my mouth was next to her ear. “I said—I don’t like clubs.”

Connie pulled back and smirked. “That’s ‘cause you’re an awkward fuck.” She rolled her eyes. “Put your hands on my hips.”

I realized that my hands were hanging flatly at my sides. “Oh,” I mumbled, my cheeks reddening. “Right.”

Connie looked as amused as ever, running her tongue over her lip before leaning in to speak again. “Just dance,” she shouted, and I nodded sheepishly. I let myself follow her movements before she turned around in my arms, leaving one arm hooked around my neck. I swallowed hard as she leaned back into me, a shiver running down my spine as her fingers scratched at the base of my skull. Glancing around I realized nobody seemed to notice us, everyone too drunk or too busy grinding on each other to care that there were two young girls dancing together in a way they should have known not to. I wanted to feel self-conscious about the way my heart was hammering against her back. I wanted to make myself pull away. I wanted to force her to turn back around and go back to dancing separately the way we were before, but I couldn’t. I was simply too drunk to have the heart to do it.

My hands tightened on her hips as she moved against me and she tipped her head back against my shoulder, her smirk wicked. My hands found themselves splayed across her tight stomach and I could smell the perfume on her neck. Was I so drunk that I didn’t even care how strong it was? Normally it would leave my head reeling but how could it do that when I was already reeling? Her fingers scratched at my neck even harder and I exhaled against her ear. She began to turn in my arms again and I expected her to be doing so in order to put this to an end before I very well just dropped dead on the spot. But when her eyes met mine, I saw that they were just as dark as my own, just as drunkenly hazy.

“Let’s get another drink,” she whispered, her body still pressed against mine. I nodded wordlessly and followed her to the bar. She cleared her throat as she leaned across the counter. “Four tequila shots please,” she called out, and the bartender nodded.