Uncomfortable

[fifteen]

Now I know what I was missing out on.

It's pretty much the coolest thing I've ever seen. Who cares about the Mona Lisa—it's like the size of my hand. But this, this is larger than life.

The DJ is on a huge rectangular stage that is suspended from cables above the dance floor. The beams of light are slicing through each other as they swivel to the beat of the electronic dance music that is thrumming through everyone's swaying bodies. The dance floor is packed, and everyone is dancing as a collective group of people.

I'm highly aware that this club probably doesn't compare to Alden's fraternity party, and that I'm being treated like a VIP because I'm with Ava, but fuck, this is fun.

As soon as we stepped inside, I was hit with the lovely stage known as bargaining.

If only I had listened to Carter and Alden six years ago. If only I could go back and break up with Wyatt. I'd get in the car. I'd dance with Alden all night. I could have saved myself years of wasted life. Life I wasn't living.

Three girls dressed in white thigh high boots and white swimsuits walk out onto the metal bridges that weave through the air. I throw my arms up and head back as they use their spray guns to rain paint over the crowd.

My white dress is splashed with green and pink and blue neon paint. I glow under the lights as I dance up against Ava's remarkable ass. She showed me how to accomplish a fraction of her moves, so I feel drunkenly (and probably mistakenly) confident—especially next to her. But I don't care.

After dinner and my nap, Ava had done my hair and makeup and brushed pink glitter across my cheeks and around my eyes.

I feel like a ridiculously happy teenager.

Nora appears and waves two neon pink test tube shots in front of my and Ava's faces. I've lost count, but they're weak and taste yummy, like a fruity little concoction made of strawberries.

Ava and I swirl our arms together and down the shots before she pulls me in by the hips to dance. She brushes my long brown waves back over my shoulder.

"Girl, go dance with him," she screams in my ear.

I glance at Alden over her shoulder. He's sitting in the reserved silver VIP booth laughing at something Julian is telling him and sipping from his drink that's lit up blue from the bottom. It's roped off and the waitresses keep bringing us bottle after bottle, making sure we have everything we could ever possibly want.

Julian and Micaela, his girlfriend, are the other couple who are staying on the boat and hadn't shown up until dinner because they'd been shopping all day. Julian looks like a tight end—six-six, large muscles; actually maybe he is one—and has his long brown waves in a man-bun. Micaela is comically tiny compared to him. If she breaks five feet, it's by half an inch, but her fiery personality that matches her deep red hair makes up for it.

Brooke and Conrad are affectionately petting each other as they dance together, weirdly sitting, on the opposite side of Alden.

"He hasn't looked at me once," I scream back choppily. "Friends—outside of Carter—getting to know each other."

She rolls her eyes at me and twists us one hundred and eighty degrees. She drapes her arms over my shoulders and shimmies her hips into mine. "He certainly looks at you when you're not looking, so you can't see what I do. He wants to dance with you."

My stomach feels like I swallowed a glow stick. "He can come to me then."

I'm not going to chase him, and I want to dance. If he wants to hang out with me, he'll have to man up, because I'm having fun. I over-compromised for Wyatt over everything. This night is mine, and I won't apologize for anything.