Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I grabbed my jacket and headed to the door. “Gonna take off.”
“Okay, Daddy, go get ’em,” he teased, and I flipped him the bird before I twisted the handle behind me. But on the way over to Jordan’s dorm, I still couldn’t shake Remy from my brain.
I hadn’t mentioned my plans in our brief text conversations this week, especially since he wasn’t very keen on joining the club or hanging out with the members other than the volunteer opportunity at the teen center. But now I was more than curious, so I scrolled to my last text exchange with him and sent a quick: Ever been to a gay club?
I figured he was at work, but the response came right away, surprising me.
Yeah, once. There’s a popular one around here called the Love Shack. Why?
That’s where I’m headed now with the LGBTQ club.
You’re kidding.
Nope. And it’s costume night.
Are you dressing up?
Why don’t you come and find out? I teased.
No way I’d be caught dead in a costume.
How did I know you’d say that? It’s not required. And they hand out masks at the door if you want one.
Yeah, no.
LOL. Okay, killjoy. About to meet Jordan. Have a good night.
His final message was delayed. Have fun.
As soon as I met up with Jordan, who was wearing the same outfit—sweats and a letterman jacket with a swimsuit underneath, the energy around me crackled with nerves. We ordered a car service, and soon enough, we were dropped off at the back of the long line at the door. There were plenty of different costumes on display, some more wild and colorful than others, like the guy wearing a peacock headpiece, but the rest of our group was fairly tame. Though Steve’s Britney Spears outfit with the pigtails and short skirt was epic. Jordan obviously thought so because he couldn’t take his eyes off him.
Some of us took advantage of the free masks at the door that were made out of simple black material and only covered our eyes. I felt incognito wearing it, which was silly, but for my first time, I welcomed it. As soon as we got inside, the thrumming bass and the frenetic vibe got me a bit pumped.
The music was loud, the place was packed, and there was skin displayed everywhere you looked. Affection too, which was so trippy—same-sex couples kissing against walls or gyrating on the dance floor, and it made me feel emotional in a strange way. There was no judgment, no inhibitions either. It was a safe space, and for the first time tonight, my shoulders unrolled and I let myself breathe.
“Is it always like this?” I asked Jordan as my gaze tracked the room in a chaotic pattern, trying to take it all in.
“Pretty much. Great, right?”
“Yeah, pretty great. Don’t think this would be my scene every night, but the fact that it exists is…awesome.”
He grinned deviously. “Exactly.”
Once we ordered drinks at the bar—sodas and water were the only things available to those of us without wristbands—my pulse finally calmed down. Though I still felt more like an observer than a participant as my gaze found interesting things to observe in every corner of the room.
“Okay, baby gays,” Steve said to the handful of us who were either freshmen or had never entered an LGBTQ club. “We’re heading to the dance floor. Join us if you want.”
“Baby gays?” one of the lesbian members asked.
“It fits, I guess,” I mused. “Do we really look that green?”
“You won’t if you start shaking those hips.” Jordan grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the dance floor. I felt awkward at first, like a newborn giraffe, until I got my footing and followed Jordan’s lead. He helped by gripping my hip from behind and grinding against me. I didn’t read into it after seeing that it was the norm, especially for him, so I went with it and eventually felt less self-conscious as I swayed to the music. I even swung myself around and grabbed onto his waist to mimic the same action, then repeated the move with other members of the group. We laughed and had loads of fun, even if we looked ridiculous. Maybe I wasn’t so vanilla after all.
By the third song, I lost track of Jordan, who had gone off to dance closer to Steve. I noted that he didn’t touch Steve the way he did others, as if there were some established boundaries between them, or maybe he was working up the courage. Very interesting for such a bold and flirty guy.
Eventually, I spotted him again, or rather, his purple-and-gold letterman jacket, as he lifted his arms above his head and sexily rotated his hips. Steve was definitely taking notice. At least it looked that way to me.
I followed the others to rest against the wall for the subsequent song, and soon enough, Jordan joined us to cool off, his sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead.