Steel & Ice (4 page)

“
Vodka and Hypno,” I told
Chris. The other girls I went out with bought their own drinks.
Chris and I always did it dude style—we bought rounds like I did
with Larry and Jesse at Checks. Chris was older than I was, and
held her liquor a little better. I learned my limitations, and at
some point she would only be buying drinks for herself. That’s
probably when she would start drinking from the flask she had
tucked in the waist band of her pants.

Chris came back with our drinks, and we
proceeded to move towards a large archway that separated the club
from the pool room. We jokingly considered this our first grand
entrance. As soon as we passed the archway it was dim lights,
pounding base, sweaty bodies moving around one another, and for me,
a little piece of ecstasy. Clubbin’ Elle walked into the club,
blanked her face, and surveyed the scene. Chris and I would make a
round, as much to check people out as to be checked out. We stuck
out since we were tall. We looked nothing alike other than being
tall and thin, but the hardened look on our faces matched
perfectly. This early in the night we were on defense, not wanting
to engage with anyone until we made a full lap around the club. We
assessed who was hot, who wasn’t, who’s head popped above all the
rest, who looked like they needed to be avoided at all cost. Most
importantly, we looked for a man that would be our conquest for the
night. Was there a man who would put us on offense?

We strolled around the club sipping our
drinks. We passed the large dance floor in the middle of the room.
Most people wanted to be on show while dancing. There was a bar in
the back we stopped at to get another round. My turn to buy.

“
What are you drinking
Chris?”

“
Captain and pineapple. You
feelin’ shots?”

“
Yeah, I need to loosen up.
You seeing anything? Cuz I ain’t. “

“
It’s still early,” Chris
said looking at her watch. “Get me the Captain and pineapple and an
Incredible Hulk. You gonna wuss out or do one with me?” I shook my
head at Chris, while pretending to barf on her shoes. The
Incredible Hulk was Hennessey mixed with Hpnotiq. When mixed
together it turned green, hence the name.

The back bar was busy, so I put my shoulder
into the crowd and made my way to the front. One more reason I
loved being tall, the sea of people were easily moved. I gave a nod
to the bartender.

“
Hey Elle. What can I get
for ya?” Yeah, I was on a first name basis with the bartender. Or I
should say, he was with me, because I could never remember his
name. Names were not my strong suit.

“
Hey sweetie. A vodka and
Hypno, Captain and pineapple, one Incredible Hulk, and a shot of
Don Julio. Lime. No salt.”

Chris was behind me and leaned forward to
snicker in my ear, “You can handle tequila, but not Henny? What the
fuck girl?”

The person next to me grabbed their bottle
of beer and stepped away from the bar. A short girl tried to step
up to buy a drink, but Chris was quicker and utilized the shoulder
move I had in order to get there first. The girl huffed and Chris
turned, giving her the death look, also known as the “you want a
piece of me” look. Her mean face was scary. Way scarier than mine.
The girl averted her eyes to the floor and walked away.

“
Short ass bitches,” Chris
mumbled.

“
We have serious superiority
complexes when we wear heels,” I joked.

The drinks showed up and I paid for the
round. I held up my shot of tequila to Chris and toasted, “To going
from awkwardly tall kids to the bad ass Amazons you see here
tonight.”

“
Fuck yeah. To superiority
complexes.” I smiled wider at her. The kind of smile that was so
genuine it reached my eyes. God, I loved Chris. “Cheers bitch.”
Chris clinked my glass and we both took our shots. “You ready to
finish the lap or do you wanna dance?”

“
Nah. Let me get this drink
in me first before we dance.”

We continued making our way back to the
arch. There were some hot guys starting to show up, but no one that
I was willing to make eye contact with. Clubbin’ Elle rarely made
eye contact with men. It seemed like once I made eye contact with a
man at the club, he inevitably took that as an invitation to come
talk to me. I had mastered the skill of looking over the crowd yet
not looking a single person in the eye. Once I found someone who I
did want to talk to, then I made eye contact and usually threw in a
half smile. We got back to the arch and leaned up against the bar
next to it.

“
I gotta piss,” Chris said
motioning to the bathrooms across from the bar.

“
Go ahead. I’m not ready to
break the seal,” I replied, leaning back into a wall that butted up
to the bar. I’d hide out in the corner until Chris returned. This
was a great spot for people watching. I scoped things out for a
beat when I felt my purse vibrate. I turned to the bar leaving a
space between myself and the wall on my right. I dug out my phone
to see a text from Aaron.

AARON: At my spot and have two to choose
from… or should I take them both home?

I smiled. Aaron was at the gay bar which
meant he was getting laid. But two men?! I was going to have to
berate him in my return text. I had began texting him about how I
couldn’t even find one, let alone two when I heard a voice at my
right.

“
Can I buy you a drink?” I
looked at the guy next to me. He had smooth skin as dark as night.
I could tell he worked out, as his arms were pushing the limits of
the elastic on his polo shirt. Unfortunately, I was looking down at
him. He couldn’t have been more than 5’10”.

“
Do you want me to keep it
real or be nice?” I asked him.

He flashed me a smile of pearly whites and
replied, “Nice of course. Why would I want a mean girl?”

I nicely smiled back. “I’m flattered but I
have a boyfriend. I appreciate the offer though.”

“
Hey, had to at least try,”
he said, still smiling. I turned back to the bar and my text before
he could say anything else. He got the hint and walked away. Had it
been a tennis shoes night I may have talked to him. Sorry for his
luck that it was heels night and anyone I had to look down to
didn’t stand a chance. I finished the text I had started to Aaron
when a felt someone to my left.

“
I’d like to hear what you
would have said if you kept it real,” a deep voice said in a tone
so low I almost thought I was hearing ghosts.

I turned my head and was
looking at the chest of a man leaning against the bar. My eyes
crept up, and up, and up until I reached his face. High cheek
bones, olive skin, exotic eyes, lips that begged to be chewed on.
Holy fuck it was the giant hottie from Checks. He had jeans slung
low on his hips and the same black hoodie he wore at Checks sans
the vest and hat. Good god, even his hair was sexy. Dark, shiny,
thick, and long enough that I could already see my hands gripping
it while he had his head between my legs. Or better yet, pulling it
while he had me pinned against the wall, his cock driving deep into
me. I gave myself a mental pep talk.
Pull
it together Elle or you’re going to look like a total dork in front
of the finest male specimen you have seen in…. shit, ever.
I slowly exhaled and looked him in the
eye.

“
When a woman keeps it real,
she’s usually called a bitch. You aren’t going to call me a bitch
now are you?” I asked with a smirk.

“
Promise,” he said, making
an X over his heart.

“
Well, I would have said
something like ‘I’m flattered by your offer but if you buy me a
drink I will feel obligated to stand here and talk to you. And I
don’t really want to talk to you. So I’ll pass on the drink.’ Then
he would have gotten huffy and called me a bitch.”

Giant hottie gave a deep rumbling laugh. “I
would have liked to see that. I’d rather a woman keep it real, and
I imagine your boyfriend must feel the same way.”

“
No boyfriend,” I
said.

He laughed even harder. “So being nice means
lying?” he asked raising his brows.

I shrugged. “Apparently.” I was keepin’ it
cool on the outside, but inside I was a little girl squealing at
the fact that I was amusing this incredibly tall and gorgeous
man.

“
You’re kind of a mystery.
This is the last place I would have imagined seeing you. It’s a
shame to hide such beautiful hair under a hat.”

Holy shit, he remembered me from Checks. I
looked awful that night! How the hell did he know it was me?

He reached out and ran his finger across my
furrowed brow. “Your golden eyes.”

Did he read my mind? Did I care? No, because
I was trying too hard not to throw myself at him to think about
what he must have thought of me in my work clothes with Larry and
Jesse at Checks.

“
I could say the same about
you. I came to dance. What’d you come for? This definitely doesn’t
seem like your scene.”

He paused a beat before answering.
“Business.”

Did I want to think about what “business” a
motorcycle guy had at Eight Oh Eight? I didn’t have long enough to
think about it before Chris came back from the bathroom. She
grabbed my arm and turned me to her.

“
I’ll get us another round
and then let’s go to the back bathroom.” The back bathroom was a
single stall which meant it was perfect for smoking the joint I
had. I turned back to giant hottie, but he was gone. What the
fuck?!?!

“
Damn Chris, way to cock
block a bitch. Did you not see the giant hottie I was talking too?”
I said with venom in my voice.

“
Sorry girl. I didn’t see
anyone. Was he hot?”

“
Was he hot? Fuckin’ A
Chris, he was fucking gorgeous. He was mutha fuckin’ 6’5” and he
was the fucking guy from Checks!” I yelled. Thank god the bar was
loud so even yelling no one else heard.

“
Oh fuck. What is a guy from
a biker bar doing here?”

“
I don’t know. I didn’t get
the chance to find out because someone got in the way.”

“
Damn Elle. I’m sorry. I
swear I didn’t realize you were talking to someone. Where’d he
go?”

I sighed, done with my tirade. “IDK. I
probably imagined him. Fuck, get me that drink and let’s go to the
back bathroom.

Eight Oh Eight wasn’t a dive
bar in the hood, but the rules were definitely lax. We couldn’t
have smoked a joint in the bathroom of the country bar on the other
side of town, or one of the hipster bars downtown. I didn’t know
who owned Eight Oh Eight, but it was always packed. They had to be
makin’ some bank. Chris and I never paid a cover but everyone else
paid $20. Add the mass quantity of alcohol this place sold, and the
owner had to be sittin’ pretty. I assumed that’s why he or she let
it get a little wild in here. Bouncers would kick people out for
fighting, but everything else seemed to be fair game. And I
mean
everything
else. I once saw a guy on the main dance floor lift his girl’s
skirt, whip his dick out, and fuck her while they danced. Oddly,
few people seemed to notice as they were too engaged in their own
scandalous behavior to care.

We went back to the bathroom, and I sparked
the joint I rolled while I was waiting on Chris to get ready at her
house.

“
Light up a cigarette cuz
this shit is gonna stink,” I told Chris.

“
You got some volunteer shit
next week right?” Chris asked, while leaning over the sink to touch
up her lip gloss in the mirror.

I passed her the joint. “Yeah, it’s at a
Latino community center.”

“
It’s been a couple weeks
now. What’ve you been doing?”

“
Just cooking dinner for the
teens in this after school program. Let me hit that before you get
lip gloss all over it,” I said motioning to the joint and changing
the subject. I didn’t want to talk about my volunteering in the
Eight Oh Eight bathroom. I was working with a youth group. Penny,
short for Penelope, was the Youth Director and led the weekly
classes. They talked about drugs, alcohol, sex, gangs. Normal
teenage stuff. I thought it would be a bunch of goodie goodie kids,
but they were more a blend of nerds, misfits, wanna be gang
bangers, and future soccer stars (or so they thought). It was easy
and the kids liked what I cooked. Before me, they ate pizza, and
like anything, it got old quick eating the same thing every day. I
liked going, and I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t really trying to
analyze it in the club bathroom, and I wasn’t ready to talk about
it with anyone, even Chris.

Once Chris and I were good and high, we made
a quick exit from the bathroom. We hustled to get away from the
smell that would no doubt be lingering in the hallway. This was the
time of night we made our second grand entrance, the best entrance.
We both had five or six drinks in us, and the joint of the sticky
icky icky had just put us over the top. We were flying high. As we
entered the main club, it was like we hadn’t been there all night.
The high and drunkenness altered our perception to the point that
we were able to look upon the club with new eyes. When we walked
back in, I always thought of the scene in Dazed and Confused where
the guys walk through the Emporium in slow motion, Hurricane by Bob
Dylan playing in the background. Everything slowed down a bit and
you felt like you owned the place. It was such a rush. I spent the
week waiting for this moment each Saturday night, when the crowds
would part as Chris and I walked by. A path would open through the
sea of bodies, and it became our runway. And honey, we worked it
like RuPaul taught us.