November 11 #2
There was going to be a raucous party at the hotel tonight.
Strippers and can-can dancers. There was a slim chance she could get in, but that didn’t stop her from thinking of ways to convince the security guards.
Kevin probably wouldn’t join her and she didn’t know if she wanted him to.
She was still very confused about what happened earlier.
They hadn’t said much to each other since then, because she was still trying to figure out why he’d kissed her.
He didn’t like her, so why did he kiss her?
Was it a joke? It didn’t feel like a joke.
She found herself constantly touching her lips because she could still feel him, taste him.
It was warping her mind. She couldn’t understand it.
Was he attracted to her? He couldn’t be.
Hot guys like him generally didn’t give girls like her a second look.
He didn’t like it when she touched him. He didn’t like it when she complimented him.
He didn’t like her. Period. He’d told her so a dozen times.
It was just a joke, she told herself. He only did it to shut her up. She knew that, yet every time she relived that moment in her head, those reasons made less and less sense.
If it was a joke, it would have been quick.
If it was a joke, it wouldn’t have felt so intimate.
But what did she know? It was all new to her.
Maybe that’s what a joke-kiss felt like.
And it wasn’t even a real kiss. Real kisses involved a lot more tongue and she was pretty sure saliva was exchanged.
That hadn’t happened so she didn’t know why she was getting so worked up over it when it wasn’t even real.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the waiter placed her meal in front of her. She’d ordered a seafood platter, Kevin ordered the ribs, and both portions were massive. She was hungry, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to eat all that.
“You’re so quiet, Jasmin,” Kevin said once the waiter left their table. “Thinking about something?”
Their eyes locked and he smiled, a little playful and little smug, and it confirmed that the kiss had been a joke.
“No. I…don’t really have much to say.”
“That’s new.”
He shifted his plate forward, giving her permission to pick off it if she wanted. She took a few onion rings, then offered her plate to him. He took mussels and calamari. The whole exchange was done in silence and they remained quiet as they ate.
It was still bothering her and she was about to ask him about it when she noticed three women approaching their table. Tall, leggy, beautiful women—two blondes, one brunette. Jasmin stopped eating when they reached their table.
“You!” one of the blondes said.
Jasmin looked around even though it was obvious the woman was talking to her.
“Yes, you. The one in the sweatpants.” She said the word in such a derogatory way Jasmin actually felt offended. She tried not to take it personally because they looked a little drunk, even though it was only two in the afternoon. “You’re coming with us,” the blonde said.
Jasmin looked around again, this time looking for a camera, because this had to be some kind of prank. “Um…I don’t…know you. And we’re eating so…”
The blonde cut her off by snapping her finger like a queen bee and the other two swarmed around her. “Then let’s introduce ourselves.” She smiled and she didn’t look half as bitchy anymore. “I’m Mandy. This is Candy and Sandy.”
Her eyebrows wrinkled. That was very strange. “Are those your real names?”
“No. It’s our alter egos. We’re in Vegas!”
Jasmin beamed, finally happy that there were others sharing the same kind of enthusiasm she was. “Me too!”
“Oh, God,” Kevin whispered from the other side of the table and he sounded a little scared. “There are more of you.”
“Now, I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing in Vegas wearing sweatpants,” Mandy said, still saying the word with utter disgust. “But we’re gonna fix it. We’re gonna save you from yourself. Get up!”
Jasmin wasn’t quite sure of their motives and remained seated. The whole situation was surreal. She didn’t know people could be so bossy and forward. She looked over at Kevin, suddenly feeling very unsure of what to do.
Mandy saw the exchange and turned her attention to him. “You don’t mind if we borrow your girlfriend for a while?”
He looked between the three of them, studying them before he answered. “I’m okay with it if she’s okay with it.”
That was a peculiar response. He was very quick to point out that they weren’t friends, but he wasn’t as protective of the word girlfriend. What was also strange was that he was fine with them making that assumption. He was so confusing.
Mandy faced her again. “It’s my bachelorette party tonight and you’re coming.”
Jasmin still felt uncomfortably nervous. She didn’t know why they would just randomly select her as a party guest. “You…don’t even know me. I’m not…sure if I would…fit in.”
Sandy slapped her shoulder, clearly not interested in her excuses. “Get the hell up! Kiss your lover goodbye and let’s go shopping for something less…awful.”
She hesitantly stood up, looking at Kevin and he still didn’t feel the need to correct them. “Um…we’re not…he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh!” Candy’s eyes lit up and she leaned towards him, lightly running her finger across his cheek. “Then I think I should let you know that I’m not getting married. I’m very, very single.”
He said nothing, but kept his eyes on her and when he smiled, Jasmin had to suppress a twinge of jealousy. She knew she shouldn’t be jealous. She didn’t really like him and he didn’t like her and that kiss was a joke! It was more obvious now.
He didn’t flirt with her the way he was with Candy right now.
He didn’t look at her the way he looked at Bella, the waitress.
Her time with Kevin was made up of ninety percent fighting, eight percent sarcastic remarks and two percent what the hell just happened moments.
That two percent was nothing to get excited over. That two percent didn’t mean anything.
He slowly pulled Candy’s hand off his face and looked over at Mandy. “You ladies better get going. Just…take care of her, okay?”
“We will.” Mandy snapped her fingers again. “Come along now, ladies. There is much to do.”
They started walking away as Jasmin gathered her stuff.
She couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this.
Uneasiness was making her palms clammy. What if they didn’t like her?
She was awkward and weird. They were tall and tanned and beautiful and she felt completely out of place.
She took a deep, calming breath. This was the purpose of the trip, she told herself.
She was about to walk away when Kevin’s fingers wrapped her around her wrist. “Don’t be nervous,” he said. “You got this. And don’t worry about fitting in. Your crazy matches their crazy. Just have fun.”
“Okay.” She smiled, feeling more settled. “Um…I need my wrist back.”
“Sorry.” He immediately let go. “I guess…it just…it feels weird…not being with you every second.”
This was one of those moments that undoubtedly slotted into the two percent category. This day just got more confusing. “I’ll…I’ll see you just now.”
He grinned. “Yeah, whenever that might be.”
She hurried out of the restaurant and the three other women were outside waiting for her.
“What’s your name, by the way?” Sandy asked. “Not your real name, your Vegas name.”
She gave it a moment’s thought. “Uh…Brandy?”
“Brandy! I love it!”
She spent the rest of the afternoon with them.
She was quiet at first, feeling a bit intimidated, but it didn’t take long before she felt like she could open up a little.
They were great. Actually, they were a riot.
All of them. Fun-loving and game for anything.
They were about three or four years older than her, but that didn’t even present an issue.
Sandy had a deranged sense of humor. Candy was all-round wacky. And Mandy was just plain weird.
The reason why they were scouting for a fourth member was because she had an odd obsession with even numbers.
She believed everything should be paired, nothing should ever be alone.
Even when one of her socks went missing, as socks do, she paired the remaining one with another lonely sock and wore them mismatched so that said sock would feel like it found a new soulmate.
Strange, but a very intriguing point of view.
They shop-hopped, picking out dresses for the party that night.
Jasmin hated dresses. She was too short and dresses made her look stumpy, but they refused to listen to her protests.
She tried on dozens of dresses and matching shoes.
A lot of them she would never be caught dead in.
They were too revealing and she promptly put it back on the rack, but there were a few that suited her oblong figure.
The other ladies gushed over her, telling her that she looked amazing.
They were so sincere that she wondered why she’d been nervous.
She had always thought of herself as a tomboy, but shopping with the girls was unexpectedly fun.
They gave her advice and tips, not once sounding judgmental or condescending.
By the end of the afternoon, she’d selected two dresses that looked semi-decent on her and she felt more confident about the upcoming party.
They were all staying at the same hotel, the other women rooming two floors above her. She returned to her room and had three hours to kill before she would have to leave again.
She opened the door and had to stop for a second.
The view was amazing. Large windows overlooking the city, but the room itself was something her imagination could not even conjure up.
It was made for pimps. Plush, leopard print carpets coupled with heavy velvet, cerise curtains.
The colors shouldn’t match but they did.