Missed Connections (37 page)

Cassidy blinked, her eyes following the movement. "I mean, your mouth…"   

And then she leaned in, her hand raising hesitantly as if she was going to press her fingers against the slick flesh of Vi's lips.

"Cassidy!" A voice rang through the bathroom, making both girls jump. "We're about to go on!  What's taking you so long?"

Cassidy dropped her hand guiltily. "I'll be right there!" she called shakily.

Vi stepped back, a sick feeling curling in the pit of her stomach. For a second it had seemed like something was going to happen, like they were teetering on the brink of… she wasn't sure what, but it left her heart pounding in her chest and her breath coming fast. But now Cassidy was turning away, frantically stuffing makeup and clothing into a bag under the sink. She glanced up at Vi, giving her a small smile. "I better go."

Vi nodded, not trusting herself to know what to say.

Cassidy straightened, smoothing out the lines of her costume. "Hey, thanks for listening."

"Yeah," Vi said, her gaze on the floor, disappointment crawling up the back of her throat. "No problem."

The door swung loudly on its hinges as Cassidy disappeared out of the bathroom—and out of Vi's life.

Vi braced her hands on the sink, chastising herself. She had just exchanged a few words with a stranger in a bathroom. It wasn't a big deal. But no girl had ever told her she was gorgeous before, let alone someone who looked like Cassidy. Someone who looked like the girls who had tormented Vi in high school, but who miraculously hadn't judged her, hadn't taunted her for dressing like a boy, or wearing her hair short, or never having a boyfriend.

It was a brand new sensation and Vi just wished it had gone on a little longer.

She dragged herself back upstairs, past the stoic bouncer and into the throng of desperate suburbanites, as Cassidy had so aptly categorized them. She spotted Greg manfully holding down their table despite the number of people circling him like tipsy sharks. The crowd had grown while she was in the restroom, the club filling up from wall to wall. Vi slipped between the clubbers and slumped down at the table across from Greg.

"Where have you been, Violet?" He said, stretching out the syllables of her full name for maximum annoyance. "I was starting to worry you'd fallen in."

Vi sneered back at him, trying not to think about Cassidy. "There was a line," she said smoothly.

Greg laughed. "Chicks, man. So glad I don't have to wait every time I want to pee."

"Yes, your life is blessed." Vi rolled her eyes, reaching out for her drink without even looking at what it was. The alcohol burned going down and she gave a little shiver at the taste.

The bland house music shifted suddenly, turning into something more upbeat, and the crowd gave a short cheer. Greg looked up in interest and Vi bit her lip, guessing what was coming.

Sure enough, a door opened behind the dance floor and a dozen girls in tribal gear came streaming out to a riotous welcome from the crowd. Greg whistled as the dancers climbed up onto pedestals scattered throughout the room and immediately began to gyrate to the pumping beat of the music.

"Christ," Greg laughed, eyes glued to the curves of the girl nearest their table. "Look at that."

Vi wrinkled her nose in token protest, but her own attention was captured—fixated on a girl across the room. Cassidy might not have all the assets the other girls did, but she could certainly dance. Her body moved fluidly with the music, twisting and writhing in a way that seemed not just—although it certainly was—but ecstatic, as if she was lit up from the inside with music and just had to let it out.

Surprisingly, it was actually fun to watch. Vi shook her head and took another gulp of her drink. Trust a trained ballerina to put on a good show no matter where she was dancing.

A slurping sound had Vi blinking in surprise down at her drink—or, rather, her empty glass. She was already feeling the liquor, swimming pleasantly in her belly and making her more amenable to the strange situation she found herself in.

"Another?" Greg asked and Vi grinned. If Greg was willing to buy drinks, she was certainly happy to take them.

As he trotted off, Vi narrowed her gaze in on Cassidy once again. She had been dancing for nearly thirty minutes, and a light sheen of sweat had gathered on her pale skin, catching the flashing club lights. Vi could imagine the way it would bead on her flesh, dripping down her neck and over her breasts, catching on the fake suede she wore, pooling against her heated skin.

Vi chewed absently on her straw, transfixed.

"What're you looking at?"

She jumped at the question, tearing her eyes from the dips and planes of Cassidy's body to see Greg craning his head, trying to follow her line of sight.

"Nothing!" she squeaked.

"You see some cute guy or something?" Greg asked. 

"Yeah, something like that." Vi ducked her head, relief and shame warring within her. She hated lying to her friends and family, but she didn't know how to stop, knowing they might not like the person she was.

Greg slid a glass across the table and Vi grabbed it gratefully, drinking deeply and letting the buzz of the alcohol distract her from his curious gaze. She listened half-heartedly to what Greg shouted at her over the music—troubles at work, landlord issues, his mother, she wasn't sure what he was complaining about, but she hoped she nodded in all the right places.

It was next to impossible for her to pay attention when Cassidy was dancing twenty feet away, her hips swaying and her body twisting to the music. It was impossible to focus on anything but the way Cassidy danced and the memory of the look in her eyes just before they had been interrupted in the restroom. It was a look that seemed to promise more—more of what, Vi wasn't sure, but the more she drank, the more she wanted to find out.

 She was almost relieved when another dancer came to replace Cassidy, allowing her to clamber off of the raised platform and sashay away from Vi's table. Still, she couldn't help but let her eyes trail after Cassidy and the almost sinful length of her long legs as she wove her way through the crowd.

"Another?" Greg asked.

Vi's attention snapped back to her friend and she smiled guiltily. "Yeah. Let me get it." She grabbed Greg's empty glass before he could protest and set off, feeling slightly worse for the drinks she had already had.

She propped herself up against the smooth black length of the bar, waiting for the bartender's gaze to slip her way. It always seemed to take forever to get served at places like this club—yet another sign that Vi was nearly invisible to everyone around her.

"Hey, bathroom buddy."

Vi jumped at the voice speaking right in her ear and whirled to find herself face to face with Cassidy. She smirked and Vi felt herself flush, wishing she had another drink in her hands. And then, like magic, Cassidy tilted her chin up and the bartender appeared by their side.

"You've got to teach me how to do that," Vi muttered, earning herself a laugh.

"Two of whatever she's having," Cassidy said.

"Three. Gin and tonics," Vi corrected and Cassidy frowned, her eyes darting over Vi's shoulder.

"Oh."

"He's a friend," Vi said quickly. "I mean. I told my friend I'd get him a drink, too."

"Alright," Cassidy smiled. The bartender returned with the drinks and waved away Vi's attempts to pay.

"Dancers' drinks are on the house."

Vi let out a whistle. "Sweet deal."

"I guess the job does have some perks," Cassidy said, quirking an eyebrow at Vi in a way that had her stomach tightening.

"So, Vi." The way Cassidy chased the straw with her tongue was even more distracting than her dancing had been. "What's that short for, anyway? Vivian?"

Vi made a face. She hated telling people, but for some reason she didn't want to lie to Cassidy. "It's Violet," she admitted.

"That's a nice name," Cassidy said, laughing at the expression on Vi's face.

"No it's not. It's a flower. Not even a very impressive one. They may as well have named me Primrose. Or Daffodil."

"Marigold," Cassidy supplied with a giggle.

Vi couldn't stop the smile that spread over her lips. "Petunia," she snorted.

"Hey!" Cassidy frowned. "I have a friend called Petunia."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

Cassidy's laugh cut her off. "Oh my god, I'm just kidding!"

"Mean."

"Oh, come on, Peony," Cassidy laughed. "Lighten up."

"Ugh," Vi complained.

"So," Cassidy said, leaning forward to prop her elbows on the bar with a grin. "You come here often?"

It was a normal question. A totally innocent inquiry. Just because it sounded like a pickup line didn't mean it was one. But the smirk on Cassidy's full lips had hope welling up inside of Vi.

"First time."

At that, Cassidy arched a knowing eyebrow. "Really?"

Vi gulped. "Yeah," she said, hoping Cassidy understood what she couldn't come right out and say. Hoping
she
understood what Cassidy was getting at.

"That's okay," Cassidy said. "Did you watch me dance?"

Vi dropped her eyes. "Yeah."

"Hmm," Cassidy said. "And did you like what you saw?"

Vi blushed, wanting to tell Cassidy that her eyes had been glued to the dancer for the last hour, unwilling to look away for a second in case she missed one single move. But she couldn't.

"You're a really good dancer," she offered, ashamed. She couldn't even flirt with a beautiful girl—one she thought was genuinely interested in her—because she was afraid of what people might think.

Cassidy's shoulder nudged hers, drawing her eyes up. The smile she offered wasn't judgmental or condescending, and Vi found herself tentatively returning it.

"Are you planning on staying for awhile?"

"Um, I guess?"

"Good. I get off at two. Maybe we could… go get a coffee?"

Vi's stomach flipped violently. There was no misreading the situation—an absolutely stunning girl was asking her out. It was terrifying, but the idea of saying no was even worse.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Cassidy grinned brightly. "Great! I'll see you in a bit, then." She took a final sip of her drink and then spun on her heels. "Don't forget to watch me dance," she called over her shoulder before flitting away.

Vi watched her go, elation and fear warring in her chest. She grabbed Greg's drink and hurried back to the table.

"Sorry," she said. "Took forever to get the bartender to notice me."

"Aw, my shrinking Violet." Greg grinned, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

"You're the worst." Vi batted his hands away, smoothing her bangs back into place over her forehead.

She took another sip of her drink, her eyes finding Cassidy as she climbed back up on her pedestal with the change of a song.

*~*~*

"Shit. I'm drunk."

"I noticed," Vi said dryly, trying to shoulder Greg's weight. In truth, she wasn't feeling so hot herself; her head was swimming and her vision blurring. She probably shouldn't have had that last drink—or two. But the thought of her upcoming coffee with Cassidy had kept her continuously heading for the bar, hoping to quell her nerves.

Now it was late, nearly two, but Greg was hanging off of her, groaning like he always did before he puked.

"Ugh. I'm going to die before we get home."

"You're not," Vi said, propping him up until he was nearly standing on his own two feet. "In fact, you don't even need me to get you home."

Greg shot her a bleary-eyed, incredulous look. "Are you kidding?" he slurred. "You want me to wake up in the park again?"

"That was one time," Vi protested. For some reason Greg found the park benches particularly appealing when he stumbled off the train wasted and still had four more blocks to go before he reached his building. "You're getting a cab, anyway."

"Yeah, good idea," Greg said, looking a bit green. He clapped a hand over his mouth as they descended the stairs of the club and Vi edged as far away as she could. She really didn't want to be thrown up on, but it had happened before. "Look, there's one!" He lurched forward out of the door of the club, towards the taxi stand.

"Wait, Greg!"

"Come
on
, Vi. I need to get home before I puke." He grabbed her hand, tugging her towards the waiting cab. "Someone's going to jack it from us."

Vi looked desperately back at the club. She was supposed to wait for Cassidy, and then go out with her. She had been picturing it all night. A cozy café, warm coffee, and even warmer smiles.

"Vi, if you don't get in this cab in five minutes, I'm leaving without you, and you'll have to come save me from homeless people at six a.m. again."

"It was just
once
," Vi said, but she knew she couldn't leave him. Greg had been her best friend since they were in elementary school. And he had never blown her off for a cute girl at the club.

"Just give me one second, okay? Tell the cabbie he can run the meter." She darted back into the club, her eyes searching for Cassidy's distinctive form.

The pedestals were all empty; there wasn't a dancer in sight. Vi froze, staring at the empty dance floor. It must be two, she figured. But then, where was Cassidy?  Vi looked around again, as if that might make her appear, but Greg was waiting and she only had a twenty in her wallet for the cab.

Biting her lip, Vi turned and headed back out of the club.

Going on a date with a girl was a ridiculous idea anyway, Vi told herself as she slid into the waiting cab.

"You made it!" Greg said happily, then promptly turned to puke out the window.

*~*~*

Vi woke up Sunday morning with a hell of a booze-and-regret-hangover. She wasn't even sure which made her feel worse:  the pounding in her head and dryness in her mouth, or the knot in her stomach when she remembered she'd walked out on Cassidy.

The first girl to ever hit on her, and Vi had just left. Without a word.

She groaned, rolling over to bury her face in her pillow.

Vi had been on plenty of dates during college. In high school, her appearance had branded her as an outsider, but nerds had miraculously become cool in the following years. Her comic book T-shirts and thick-framed glasses became a 'look', and guys had started to pay attention.