Indigo (8 page)

She blows out a breath and pinches her nose before putting the glass up to her lips. A second later, she throws it back faster than I expected, as if she wants to get it over with. A shudder rolls through her body, and when she opens her eyes, they’re misty, full of surprise and a little revulsion.

She swallows for a second time, as if she wants to make sure it’s going to stay down. “Whoa.”

“Well?” Sabrina asks. All three of us are looking at her expectantly.

“It wasn’t awful,” she confesses. “But good lord, people do that for fun?”

Her comment makes us all laugh, and Sabrina passes out the other drinks which turn out to be two seven and sevens for Shawn and I, a vodka tonic for her, and an amaretto sour for Indigo.

Indigo approaches this drink with a bit more caution now that she knows what she’s in for, but her eyes light up after her first small taste. “I like this one so much better.”

“Here try mine,” Sabrina says. “Just a sip though, I don’t want you keeling over on us your first night out.”

With much less hesitation, Indigo reaches out for the vodka tonic, takes a small sip from the straw, but then winces. “That one tastes a little bitter.”

I’m surprised when she suddenly turns to me and reaches out her hand. “Do you mind? I’m on a roll here.”

Grinning, I hand over my glass and watch as her lips mold against the rim. They’re full and so expressive, and I indulge myself by staring. Her face goes pale when the amber liquid touches her tongue. “Blech! Not for me.”

Putting my mouth on the straw she just released, I think of her comment about chairs that are too big, and I lean in toward her and whisper, “You’ll just have to keep searching for one that’s just right.”

She surprises me with a burst of laughter, and I’m surprised, because I’m inwardly cringing at my corny as anything comment. Her hair has fallen off her shaking shoulders when she tilts her head back, and I just watch her with a goofy smile on my face, feeling like the best man in the room.

“Are you guys going to the football game tomorrow?” Shawn asks casually, clinking around the ice in his drink. “It’s opening day.”

I’m surprised to realize he’s trying to once again make tentative plans, and I wonder how much he is into Sabrina. The behavior is so unlike him.

“Maybe,” Sabrina answers off-handedly. “I told Jeremy I’d get together with him that day and practice a few songs for Klaeger’s class.”

Jeremy is the only other singer in our Independent Study course, so it would make sense that they would work together. Shawn tries to his best to keep his cool expression, but I can tell he isn’t crazy about her answer. “Sounds like a good time,” is all he says.

“How about you?”

Indigo has been steadily sipping her drink, but looks up at my question, her cheeks a little pink to match her lips. “I don’t think so. I need to try and find the nearest Home Depot and get some supplies to install stuff in my room.”

And just like that, I’m curious again. “Do you need help with something? I’m really good at--“

Sabrina’s shriek cuts me off, and I jump back in alarm when she bounces off the stool and grabs Indigo’s hand. “I love this song! You have to dance with me.”

Indigo takes one more sip of her drink and then allows Sabrina to drag her off toward the dance floor, giving me an apologetic glance. Sabrina looks over her shoulder at Shawn and shoots him a saucy wink. “Join us if you dare boys.”

We both watch as they wind their way around a few bodies, and find a spot in the corner, still in full view of the table. Sabrina grabs Indigo’s hand and hauls her in close to in whisper something in her ear. Whatever she says makes Indigo’s eyes goes wide. Damn, I want to know what was said.

All thoughts of Sabrina’s words vanish the moment Indigo gives in and starts to dance. The transformation happens in an instant. Holy, fuck. One second she’s the sweet, reserved girl I pegged her as, and the next, a confident woman radiating sensuality like an elegant lover. I can tell from her face, from each graceful sweep of her body, that’s there’s no thinking behind the movements. It comes to her as natural as her next breath. I’m literally floored, and I feel my new obsession with this girl sink in a little bit further.

“We’re in trouble,” Shawn murmurs from beside me, his eyes as transfixed on the dance floor as mine are.

I watch in fascination when Indigo whips her hair back from her face and shakes her head back and forth to the beat.  She’s a dancer all right. Even I can tell how talented she is. Her body is insanely perfect to begin with, but dancing like that? There aren’t words.

Shawn downs the rest of his drink in one swallow and slams it on the table. “I’m going in.”

He reaches the dance floor and scoops Sabrina into his arms making her squeal with delight.

Indigo laughs and steps out of their way, but when her gaze finds mine, I’m moving instantly. 

Because when a woman who’s moving like
that
, looks at you like that, there’s nothing else you can do.

INDIGO

The beat flows through me like a drug, and as always, I’m able to completely forget everything else. For me, dancing is about letting ago, and using my body to express the way I feel, how the music makes me feel. There’s nothing else that has ever given me peace quite like it.

Raising my arms above my head, I circle around in a measured rhythm, feeling weightless. Through the veil of my hair, I see Shawn step on to the dance floor and head straight for Sabrina, and can’t help but laugh when he swoops in from behind. It’s what she was hoping would happen all along.
Let’s drive them crazy,
she whispered to me earlier.

Thinking of the dance I promised Kennedy, I look in his direction to see if maybe he’s still interested. The thought of his body next to mine makes my skin flush and for a brief second I worry that I might have broken out in hives. I haven’t danced with someone in a couple years, but the little bit of alcohol running through my system, and sheer willpower, is making me want to try. Just try it. What’s the worst that could happen? We’re in the middle of a dance floor with dozens of people around.

I don’t have to wait long. The moment my eyes hit his, he’s on his way over making the air catch in my throat. I watch him head towards me, trying to take him in all at once. His powerful stride, his strong jaw, and his dark heated gaze all leave me a little breathless. I haven’t spent this much time around a guy in a long time, and I don’t know if it’s that, or if it’s just because Kennedy’s been so nice, but I’m enjoying myself.

Daringly, I hold my hand out when he gets to the edge of the dance floor in invitation. He takes it, and I’m once again struck by how large his hands are compared to mine. Moving it so his hand is only lightly grasping my four fingers, he moves in a little closer just as a new song comes on.

It’s Michael Jackson’s
The Way You Make Me Feel
, and my heart lightens. My mom is a huge MJ fan, and for a moment I’m taken back home to my living room, dancing around on the rug with her. I push those thoughts aside to concentrate on the man in front of me, whose concentration seems to be entirely centered on me. The look in his eyes makes me feel vulnerable, almost hunted, and I have to look away. So with my hand still in his, I twirl around under his raised arm until my back lightly presses up against his chest. The intimacy sends a powerful jolt of warning to my system, and I move forward so our bodies aren’t touching and release his hand. Now that I’ve escaped the scrutiny of his intense stare, and now that I’m a safe distance away, the music gets into my blood again and I begin to move.

I take it easy at first, just swaying my hips back and forth, trying to gauge how much of a natural rhythm he might have. I’m pleasantly surprised to feel his own body following mine, and the knowledge that he possesses at least some skill makes me kick things up a notch.

I raise both my arms above my head and move my body a bit more distinctly, challenging him to keep up, but making sure to keep that distance between us. I can’t believe this is happening. I’m dancing with a boy! I do a second internal dance at my progress.

With my heels on, the top of my head still sits an inch or two below his chin, so even without touching, I feel completely enveloped in his large frame. And although I’m moving out of my comfort zone, it feels good. I feel normal. A little out of my league, but normal.

Out of nowhere, he tentatively places a hand on my hip. It feels like a hot brand even though it’s just the lightest of touches. I tense and move just a little bit farther away but I know he gets the message when he doesn’t try again. It makes me sad at how relieved I feel.

For a few beats, we just move together, and being the dancer that I am, I recognize the natural chemistry that our bodies have. The beat changes and I switch to a different rhythm. The motion accidently presses our bodies together intimately, and I can feel his labored breaths against the side of my neck when he lowers his head. The same nerves come back from when he touched my hips, but this time, they pool in the bottom of my stomach, and don’t feel as scary. When I twist my hips and move them in a different direction, he tenses and his movements falter just a tiny bit. Something deep inside me tells me he liked that. The small sense of feminine pride quickly gets trumped by reality and I step away from him again.

He barely misses a beat when I spin around to face him. I’m a couple feet away now, and I sing the words of the song letting myself get lost in the music. The gathering pool in my stomach simmers when I get a good look at how he’s watching at me. I’m not naïve, and right now Kennedy Keats is focused on me so intimately I feel like the only woman in the world.

It empowers me like nothing ever has before, and for just a second, I feel beautiful. The unfamiliar feeling brings a big smile to my face, and as we dance together, a couple feet apart, I try to hide it. But it’s as if he knows, and keeps trying to meet my eyes. He does some silly dance moves, and I find myself trying to impress him a little with mine. We go back and forth until Sabrina’s voice pushes into my awareness.

“For goodness sake! What is this Dancing with the Stars?!”

She saunters over, Shawn in her wake, and starts grinding comically up against me. Laughing, I start to move again and it’s not long before the four of us are letting loose as if the dance floor is our own personal stage. We’re out there for a good hour at least, talking, dancing, laughing, and getting to know each other a little bit better. I can’t believe I thought either of them might be psychopaths. They are clearly just college guys, both just hotter than average. Especially Kennedy, who I can’t really seem to find any flaw with physically. Sheesh. Other girls have been circling our group like vultures, but both guys haven’t paid them any mind. 

Sabrina, I learn, is a fantastic dancer in her own right—although I don’t think someone who looks like her can look bad doing anything--and Kennedy can do a mean running man when forced into it.

We’re all more than a little sweaty when we head back to the bar, deciding to have one last drink before heading home. As we finish paying three girls who had been watching us on the dance floor sidle up to the bar.

I can tell they are giving Kennedy an appraising eye, and when they turn down to look at the girl he’s standing beside, one of them gasps. “Oh my god! What the FUCK is that? I would kill myself if that was on my face.”

Sharp humiliation races through me at her harsh words and I can’t help but glance over at them in shock. Usually people aren’t so blunt in their observation of my scar. It’s obvious they’re all drunk, and it’s also obvious they’re all beautiful. One girl looks embarrassed when it’s clear I’ve overheard, but the other two look a little smug, although still unable to meet my eyes.

Kennedy stiffens and closes into me behind my back as if in protection. He goes to put two hands on my waist, but stops, probably remembering my reaction on the dance floor. I’m mortified at that, too, and when I realize he must have heard the rude comment. He’s probably embarrassed to be seen with me. Out of nowhere, Sabrina is leaning over and pointing her finger in the girl’s face. “Back the fuck off bitch!”

“No don’t!” I put my hand on her arm to try and push it down. “I don’t care.”

“Or what?” The girl gives us both a look of disdain before turning back toward the bar. “What are you going to do about it?”

Sabrina’s actions say it all when she snatches up her drink and throws it in the girl’s face, completely soaking the top half of her body. Nobody else moves as she stares down at herself in horror.

Before things can get any more out of hand, Shawn grabs Sabrina’s arms and starts to pull her back away from the bar. Satisfied with the girl’s look of utter shock, she allows him to escort her to the door. Kennedy and I follow closely behind. He seems to be closing in on me, and I can feel the energy pent-up energy radiating off him on my behalf. I don’t know how that makes me feel.

Beyond embarrassed at the way things panned out, I run over to Sabrina once we step outside and take in the self-satisfied grin on her face. “I’m so sorry. Don’t feel like you have to step in, though, it really doesn’t bother me.” The familiar lie rolls off my tongue with ease.

She looks at me like I’m crazy and pulls me into a hug. “Did you just apologize to me? Indigo, you can’t have expected me not to say something. That’s really just asking too much for someone like me.”