Nine
Nine
“You two finished?” Vince’s voice interrupts us. “Because we’re all pretty hungry, in case you were wondering.”
Thomas and I break away from one another and turn to look at him. Vince slaps Thomas on the shoulder. “Man, I gotta get something to eat; I might pass out.”
I take note of the slow, careful way he pronounces every word: he may not be quite as obliterated as the others, but he’s pretty close.
Thomas grits his teeth and answers him in an irritated voice: “I’m not taking you anywhere, Vince.
I called a ride for you ten minutes ago; he’ll take you back to campus as soon as he gets here. ”
Vince gives a wobbly head shake. “Are you nuts? How am I gonna pay for a ride? Sexual favors? Nah. Plus I need to digest some food as soon as possible; otherwise I’m gonna collapse.”
“Then go eat,” Thomas retorts, inviting him to leave with a wave of his hand.
“To tell the truth, I’m a little hungry as well,” I interject with a shrug.
Vince turns to Thomas with his hands on his hips, triumphant. “Yes, see! Are you going to tell her no too?”
Thomas ignores him and just looks at me, cocking an eyebrow. “Didn’t you have dinner?”
I shake my head. “We came straight here after I got off work.”
He scratches his forehead with his index finger before sighing resignedly. “Fine. What do you want to eat?”
“A big plate of empanadas, extra beef, extra spice!” Vince answers excitedly on my behalf.
“I didn’t ask you,” Thomas hisses through gritted teeth, never taking his eyes off me. I try to stifle a laugh because their bickering has taken on a real Shrek and Donkey vibe. If I shared this thought, Thomas would probably ghost me on the spot.
“Anything’s good,” I say simply. “Although, I don’t think there are a lot of options at this time of night.”
“What a coincidence!” Vince says, clapping his hands together. “I just happen to know of a little place near here that is part of a chain of Mexican restaurants and is open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week!” he continues, drawing Thomas’s ire.
With a smile and a shrug, I decide to back Vince up. “Sounds good to me.”
Thomas frowns at me. “You sure? We can look for something else. We don’t have to just go where he wants,” he says, shooting Vince a dirty look.
I’m about to tell him that Vince’s suggestion seems like a good one, but we are interrupted by the girls coming back toward us. Tiffany—who is also looking disheveled and exhausted—is holding Leila up with an arm around her waist.
“Hey, how are you feeling? A little better at least?” I ask Leila, going to meet them.
“It’s a shit show,” she says, barely managing to keep her eyes open. Her brow is heavily furrowed, and her voice is shockingly low and shaky.
Vince follows the girls with his eyes, bewildered. “Dude, what the hell’s up with your sister?”
Thomas just sighs and shakes his head, refusing to discuss the topic. “Come on, JC. Get in my car so I can drive you home, and we’ll come back for yours tomorrow,” he says, pulling the car keys out of his jeans pocket.
Then he gets into the driver’s seat, puts the key in the ignition, and starts the SUV.
The girls take seats in the back, and I move around to the passenger side.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Vince following me, but the moment he puts his hand on a door handle, Thomas leaps out of the car.
He leans his forearms on the roof and says: “And what do you think you’re doing, Vince? ”
Vince looks over the roof of the car at him and replies as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world: “Getting in.”
“To my car?”
“I can’t drive in this condition; you have a moral obligation to take me with you.”
“Nope.”
“You will, though.”
“I called you a ride.”
“And, as you can see, it’s not here.”
“So I’ll call you another one.”
“Or you could stop being a dick.”
My eyes dart back and forth avidly between the two of them. I am thoroughly enjoying this dialectical ping-pong between alpha males.
Finally, Thomas gives in, bowing his head. When he looks up, he points a finger at him. “If you mess up my car, you’re dead,” he threatens.
Vince laughs, but when he notices the seriousness of Thomas’s face, his smile disappears.
I hop in as well, my head still fuzzy from everything that went down tonight. We leave ClubSeven behind us, along with the bass vibrations that dissipate into the night and shouts of young people in the parking lot.
Both of the girls want to go home instead of hitting the Mexican place—they just want to curl up under the covers. We make a pit stop on campus to take Leila to her room before heading to Tiffany’s house.
“Thanks for taking care of Leila tonight,” I say when we drop Tiffany off. I squeeze her tightly, and she hugs me back.
“It was the least I could do; I still feel bad about letting her get like that,” she answers mournfully as we pull away from one another.
“Eh, it wasn’t your fault. In fact, I’m the one who’s sorry for putting that on you. Leila’s having a rough time right now, and she probably would have gotten drunk regardless,” I say, rubbing her shoulders in what I hope is a comforting way.
“And thanks for letting me stay at your place. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” I add, glancing up at the sprawling palace behind her, which stands out starkly against the rest of the neighborhood even with the lights off.
“Anything for you,” she answers. “Have fun with that grouchy boyfriend of yours. And if you ever need an escape, you know you can always come back here.” She gives me a weary but sincere smile.
I watch as she disappears into the large front garden, and only when the solid wooden front door closes behind her do I join Thomas and Vince back in the car.
***
We walk into the restaurant at two in the morning.
Surprisingly, it’s full of people. It’s so hot inside that I immediately take off Thomas’s sweatshirt.
From here we can see there’s a free table at the back of the room, so we head for it.
As we step forward, I can feel the eyes of some of the men in the room gravitate to my legs, making me uncomfortable.
It’s terrible to realize that a girl really can’t wear a short dress without having to deal with slimy looks from men.
Adult men, in fact, who look old enough to be my father.
Behind me, Thomas and Vince are muttering something in each other’s ears, and as if reading my mind, they move to create a kind of human shield around me, trying to hide as much of me as possible with their bodies.
I speed up my walk, and though I can’t know for sure, I can feel the dirty looks Thomas is giving to the lookie-loos.
When we get to the table, I hang my purse and the sweatshirt over the back of my chair. Thomas moves to sit next to me, but Vince beats him to it with a feline pounce.
“Move, Vince,” Thomas demands, looming over his friend.
Vince tilts his head upward innocently and answers, “Why? There’s an empty seat right there in front of us.” He’s really trying to hide it, but the grin pulling up the corners of his mouth just gets more and more obvious.
Thomas puts one palm flat on the table and the other on the back of the chair currently occupied by Vince; then he lowers himself down until the two of them are eye to eye. “Move,” he orders.
The blond boy sighs, rolling his eyes. “See how aggressive he is? What do you see in him?” he asks, turning to me.
Nevertheless, he gets up and takes the seat across from us.
“It’s all the tattoos, isn’t it? I know that’s it.
You know, if I wasn’t terrified of needles, I’d be covered in them too, and then there’d be no hope for all of you,” he says, pointing a finger at Thomas in an intimidating fashion.
I try to stifle it but I can’t help but laugh. “Well, you know, all these muscles don’t exactly hurt either,” I tell him, rubbing Thomas’s left bicep mock-worshipfully. Thomas just shakes his head in resignation.
“Hey, Little Gem, I’ve got those too. Take a look at this.” He shrugs off his jacket and lifts his shirt up to show off his rock-hard abs, even slapping them with his hand a few times to illustrate. He gives us mocking smile, absurdly pleased with himself.
I pretend to gasp in surprise, pressing a hand to my chest.
“Truly admirable, Vince, I am deeply impressed. Seriously, you’re looking pretty good.
Actually, you know what? This combination you’ve got going on, with the angelic face, big baby blues, and the breathtaking physique you’ve been hiding under your baggy T-shirts? It’s really putting you over the top.”
His eyes gleam. “Over the top, you say?”
I nod. “For sure! I mean, yeah, he’s got all these tattoos and that bad-boy vibe that turns a lady’s head, but I’ll let you in on a little something.
” I lean toward him as though I’m about to impart state secrets.
“Despite what you may think, every woman is secretly attracted to the nice guy.” I sit back, composed, a smile on my lips.
“Are you kidding me? So how the fuck do you all end up in the arms of these ungrateful oafs?” He points at Thomas, who, exhausted by this conversation, just shakes his head.
“Because these oafs know what they’re doing, loser,” Thomas interjects.
Vince snorts and lifts his eyebrows. “Oh, you know what you’re doing? How so?”
“You really wanna know?” Thomas answers.
They stare at each other for a fraction of a second, almost as though they are communicating telepathically, and then Vince mimes a retch. “Ah, Christ’s sake, no!” he answers, disgusted.