Page 35 of Center of Gravity
“Yeah, Dad. I think you’ve officially met your quota of prophylactic reminders for the day.”
“Are you two done?”
“Maybe?”
Dad kept on grinning and I soaked it up, the lightness of it. I was trying to be conscious of these moments, taking them where I could get them.
“Do you want some cake?” Mom held a knife poised above the cake.
I shook my head. “We’re grabbing dinner first. You go ahead.” But she didn’t. There was no chance that Dad would eat any, and I knew the cake would still be sitting there untouched tomorrow. Well, unless Lainey and Marissa got to it, which was highly probable.
I gave Mom a kiss on the cheek. “I’m staying at Tom’s tonight, so I won’t ruin your sleep.”
“You’re a good son.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze.
I bumped my fist against Dad’s shoulder.
“Bonus reminder: condoms. And no drinking and driving.”
“I know, I know.” This was the part I disliked about having to move back home. Never mind that I’d been taking care of myself just fine for the past three years. Now I was back to the same warnings I used to get in high school.
* * *
Razz was a neon-glowing,body-packed behemoth. Like, could-hardly-move packed. The bar looked impossible, so we split up, half of us in the queue for drinks and half of us circling like rabid sharks for any sign of a table where we could park. Sam was the big winner, winnowing through the crowd and scoring us a high-top table the size of a pinhead. Tom and Max returned twenty minutes later laden with an assortment of mixed drinks and an entire bottle of vodka.
“Figured I’d better plan ahead,” Tom shouted as Max unloaded shots. The surface of the table disappeared beneath a liquid carpet of bright blue, pink, and orange.
I sniffed at something fruity and orange before knocking it back and watching Tom’s head careen to follow a hot blonde in a tiny pink skirt mincing toward one of the raised platforms for the go-go dancers.
With communication at, well, any volume, effectively ruled out, we hung around the table trading unintelligible toasts and swallowing shots.
Max dragged me to the dance floor first and we left Sam and Tom behind. God help him if he tried to put the moves on Sam. I imagined she’d put him in his place fast. She was spit-fire confident and gave zero fucks about saying what was on her mind. And also making her preferences known. She liked pretty boys and butch girls, and Tom was neither of those things.
Max slid his arm around my waist as we waded into the ocean of undulating bodies. He was an art school nerd like me, except his forte was art history and textiles. We’d slept together once in the second semester of our freshman year after a night like this, but it was apparent the morning after it was a one-shot deal from both our ends. He went through boyfriends and hookups like I did, but he was really fun to go out and dance with. I pushed him deeper into the crowd and chased him with my hands on his hips, pressing up against him. It was easy to sink into the music, the warmth of skin on skin, and primal motion. I put my nose to the side of his neck where his cologne blossomed in soft notes of mandarin beneath a light sheen of sweat.
I caught sight of Tom once, pushing through bodies to join the throng below the go-go dancer. Then Sam found her way to us and we made a human sandwich of Max, much to his delight. When Sam started kissing Max, who very much fell into the category of pretty boy, I ventured off on my own. I had no qualms about dancing solo, and there were so many bodies in motion it was hard to tell who was dancing with whom anyway. It was just this giant, frenzied chaos of skin and smiles and limbs and pulsating heat. I loved it.
Floating on the adrenaline and rhythm of the crowd, I danced with whomever was nearest as the shots percolated through my veins. I ended up spending a long time coiled in the company of a handsome stranger whose name was either Clyde or Clint. It was impossible to tell over the music. He wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but he was a good dancer and at some point his head tipped in my direction and it just happened. It was natural and hot, this sort of animal-careless savaging of mouths. His hands moved over my back and my stomach. I had a fistful of his ass and was considering going home with him when Tom wrenched my arm and dragged me off the dance floor and down a hallway until I could hear him. He was flushed and sweaty and seemed either really drunk or really pissed.
“What the fuck?” I shouted, craning a look around his big shoulder in search of my guy. But the dancefloor had already swallowed him back up.
“Time to go. There’s a party out on the beach.”
“I’m not ready to go yet.”
Tom made a face, then rolled his eyes. “Come on, please? I’ve gotta get out of here.”
“Too much gay for your virgin eyes?” I teased and he winced, giving me a pleading stare until I relented.
We rounded up Max and Sam and found a cab. Tom was quiet. Sam and Max squeezed in beside me, Sam sitting on Max’s lap and petting him. Tom studied Sam like he was trying to figure something out. “I thought you didn’t hook up with guys.”
“No, I said I don’t hook up with guysusuallyand definitely not bro-looking guys like you, but Max is really pretty.”
Max batted his lashes and Tom let his head crash back into the headrest. “You guys give me a headache.”
“Pretty sure that was the last Kamikaze I saw you throw back,” I said.
“Fair point. At least it wasn’t a Mind Eraser.”