“It’s actually only a five-minute walk,” she tells me. “I chose a restaurant that was close to the club,” she adds.
I was wondering why we came this far for a restaurant when we were staying near a strip of them. I figured she was offering because the distance was welcomed, but there’s always more to Mercedes than meets the eye. “Of course it is.”
She throws her arm over my shoulders. “Aren’t you even a little excited for a night of loud music, drinks, and dancing till our feet hurt?” she questions.
I smile. “Maybe a little,” I reply.
“Yes! Let’s go dance our butts off,” she exclaims.
A few minutes later I find myself with a drink in hand in the middle of the dance floor with my best friend. I’m already two shots in, and I’m not sure if the music is getting significantly better or if I’m just extremely buzzed.
I mean, I know that I can’t hold my liquor, but when in Mexico, right?
The song ends only to be followed by another one. “I love this song!” Mercedes says, jumping up and down as the beat picks up.
I move to the sound, waiting to see if I recognize it. The lyrics start and I burst out laughing when I realize it’s “We Are Young.” I think it’s funny that pop culture is so global that I can sit here and understand every word of the songs that play.
When the chorus starts it feels as though everyone in the club memorized the lyrics for this very moment. We sing the song at the top of our lungs and, in this foreign country with people I do not know, I feel a sense of togetherness. Of unity.
I close my eyes and just dance and sing along, enjoying every minute of it.
I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or what, but I feel light. Happy. Full. I give myself the opportunity to just be in the moment. To not overthink but simply to enjoy.
I won’t let even the heels I’m wearing ruin this night.
Tonight, “We Are Young.”
I feel someone’s hand on my lower back and I instantly open my eyes. What’s up with people and lower backs? Turning around, I’m greeted by the soft, sweet smile of the guy whose sweater I stole.
I smile back at him.
He lowers himself till he’s whispering in my ear. “Hey, you,” he tells me.
“Hi,” I respond, getting up to my tippy toes.
“I almost didn’t recognize you without my hoodie,” he jokes and I laugh.
I shrug. “Sorry I stole that, by the way.”
“I was glad you did. Meant that I could maybe see you again. I was a bit sad when you didn’t come back from getting drinks. I thought something had happened. Tyler said your friend left too, so I assumed you guys left together. Hope we didn’t scare you off,” he finishes and I feel kind of guilty.
I wave it off. “We were good. Sorry I didn’t let you know!”
“You weren’t obligated to,” he tells me.
“Well, sorry I stole your sweater, then,” I say, chuckling.
Mercedes returns and I realize I didn’t notice she was gone in the first place. “Here,” she says, handing over another shot. “Hey there, blondie,” she says to sweater guy. Gosh, what was his name again? It’s on the tip of my tongue but I can’t remember it.
“Evan,” he tells her. There it is!
I take the shot from her hand. We nod, clink glasses, then throw back our third shot of tequila. “Wow, you ladies are in a party mood,” Evan says.
“When in Mexico!” I shout.
The next song comes on and I’m instantly surprised that something like this is playing at a nightclub. I didn’t know Rihanna’s “Umbrella” would even be on the playlist. “This is my song!!!” Mercedes screams.
She takes my hand and we start dancing. We move Evan so he’s standing in the middle of us and we dance circles around him, pretending he’s the person the song is referring to.
With hands in the air and all the dramatics, we sing the song feeling like we’re making Rihanna proud with our very own show. The buzz I feel relaxes me as I make a fool of myself in front of a whole club full of strangers and a guy whose clothing I stole.
I close my eyes again, loving how it feels to dance while pretending no one else is here. Like no one’s watching. Like it’s just me and the music.
Suddenly, I feel like I’m about to lose my balance and fall back when someone catches me.
Every part of my body feels like it’s on fire and when I turn around I instantly know exactly why.
Kayden Harrison.
9 Ari Cole
When my eyes meet his, my legs give in. He holds on to me a little tighter and I’m transported back. Transported back to every time he held my hand. Every kiss he placed on my lips, starting with the first. It’s almost like his touch rewinds the tape and my mind focuses on all the good times we spent together.
“You okay?” he asks with his hand still on my back.
I nod.
“Hey, Kayden!” Evan says. “I’ve got it from here,” he adds, extending his hand to me.
Kayden looks at him then his hand. His eyes come back to mine. “Can we talk?” he asks me.
I look at Evan who stands there with his hand in the air. I should grab it. I should take hold of it and dance the night away. I should avoid this.
Turning to look at Mercedes, she gives me the look. The look that says, whatever you want to do, I’m here for you. If you want me to punch him, I will. If you want to talk to him, you can.
Am I even sober enough for this?
Who am I lying to? The alcohol is probably the only reason I’m considering this in the first place.
“Please?” he says, and the words fall out of his mouth like a prayer. Even amidst
