Without a Hitch(2)
I’m vaguely aware of Hadley digging around in her purse and then coming at me with a tiny spray bottle. “Hads, I love you, but if you’re about to spray my face with hand sanitizer, I might lose my shit.”
“But germs,” Hadley whispers, glancing over her shoulder like she might offend the male stripper.
She adjusts her glasses but lowers her spray bottle.
“Please,” I say with a slow exhale. “Can we please go somewhere else? Anywhere else. I’m positive we have enough ammunition for Sloane.” My skin crawls as strangers’ eyes still laugh in my direction. I sink even deeper into my chair, wishing it would just swallow me whole already. A fire drill would be my dream come true right now.
“Who knew schlongs could even rotate like that?” Delaney whispers. Her bright pink lips remind me of cotton candy as she licks the sugared rim of whatever sickly-sweet cocktail she just sucked down.
An involuntary shiver runs down my spine. It doesn’t seem fair that my longest dry spell since I started having sex ended ten seconds ago with a ten-inch torpedo bitch-slapping not one, but both cheeks.
If it weren’t for my darker complexion, I’d have a penis-sized bruise on my right cheek. That fucker hurt. My mother’s tiny percentage of Asian-American heritage shows in my bronzed skin. All three of my sisters and I look eerily similar. Considering we all have different mothers, I suppose it’s a testament to my father’s Irish genes.
My complexion is a part of my identity I’ve always struggled with. I have my mother’s silky dark hair and tawny skin, but my features are all my father’s. My eye shape, bone structure, even the slant and size of my teeth, match my sisters, who are all spitting images of our father. I’ve never truly felt Asian or Irish. I’m just me. I blend in where my sisters and gorgeous friends are destined to stand out.
That’s why we were all shocked when it was my chair that Brawny Barry spun away from the table for the impromptu chair dance.
Eli leans in, roping her arms around my neck and dragging the other girls in close for a selfie. The extra two inches she has on me shows as she reaches around us to take the picture. “Yup. Let’s go! I’m in the mood to dance.”
I barely contain a groan. I want to go home, crawl into bed, and watch How To Lose A Guy In 10
Days until I fall asleep, but I’ll never ruin their fun. When Delaney gives a little whoop of glee, I know she’s feeling good, and I nod in agreement.
None of us know our way around, but we pile out into the street anyway. We’re on the strip and bound to find a club in either direction, so turning to the right, I lead the way. I’m thankful when, less than a block away, Pink’s “Raise Your Glass” filters out of a club. I grin, knowing we’ve found our place.
Even Hadley does a little dance that has her strawberry blond hair bouncing in her always efficient ponytail, so I step forward and offer the security guard my ID. The girls follow closely behind as I open the door and wait for each of my friends to pass.
Two steps in, Eli grabs my hand, which sets off a chain reaction. I grab onto Delaney, who takes hold of Hadley. Our single-file train pushes and slides to the dance floor of the dimly lit club. The beat of the music vibrates through my lungs like a tremor I can’t control.
Staring at my girls, I can’t help but grin. Their bodies are engulfed by the music the second we step onto the floor that’s sticky with spilled drinks. Our bodies shimmy and sway to song after song as flashing lights turn our skin all the colors of the rainbow. It doesn’t take long for our group to be encircled by random guys, and with a heavy sigh, I watch as they each pair off.
I always seem to be the odd man out. I think I give off some sort of don’t fuck with me vibe or something. I don’t know. But I have spent many hours in front of the mirror trying to figure it out. I don’t appear to have a resting bitch face. I’m generally smiling and friendly. I just seem to be…
invisible.
After years of practice, I’m used to it, so I stand and sway awkwardly because Hadley is a head counter. She could meet the love of her life on the dance floor, but the second she can’t see all our heads, she panics. So, instead of slinking off to find a table, I dance alone and let her have her fun.
Sure enough, I catch her eye a second later. She gives me a worried glance, but I give her a goofy thumbs-up and pretend I’m dancing with someone to my left. When she finally looks away, my shoulders droop. My skin is still crawling from the penis massage my face took, and now my makeup is melting under the sheer heat radiating from the dance floor.
Snaking my way to Hadley, I lean in but still shout to be heard over the hip-hop song that’s playing. “I’m running to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” She nods and kisses my cheek, then splutters, spitting her tongue out in disgust, obviously remembering where my cheek has been tonight.
It makes me chuckle as I scan the crowd. I find Eli and Delaney and give them the hand sign for the restroom. They both nod happily, and I make a beeline for the edge of the dance floor. People shift and let me through, but no one pays me much attention. Being invisible is a blessing and a curse, I guess.
Eventually, I make it to the door with a triangular-shaped woman on it and am shocked there isn’t a line. Pushing through the swinging door, I find out why.
“Seriously, Sybil. You can’t keep doing this every time we go out.” Two women rush past me with a huff, leaving a girl leaning against the sink with mascara streaming down her face.