“Sorry, I’m almost done,” I call out to Julius, who’s been waiting patiently in the living room since we finished dinner an hour ago. I swallow, my hand on the doorknob, somehow more nervous than I was before my two-hundred-meter dash at the Track and Field Carnival, or even the end-of-year exams.
I force my thoughts back to Abigail’s pep talk, the encouraging look she gave me, as if I were so much cooler and prettier than I felt.Come on, darling. At least give it a try—if you don’t end up enjoying it, you can always change your mind. But it’s the experience. It’s, like, a rite of passage. You’ll be in a country on the other side of the planet with your super hot boyfriend as a legal adult for the first time in your life. Aren’t you even remotely curious what it’s like?
I’ve literally never thought about it before, I told her.Well, start thinking about it.She flipped her platinum hair over her shoulder and winked at me.And don’t worry about preparing—I’ve got you covered.
“There’s no rush,” Julius says, his voice sounding much closer than I expected. Close enough for him to be right outside the door. “The bar stays open until … To be honest, I don’t know how long bars usually stay open, but considering the nature of their business, I’d say we have more than a few hours. Just tell me when to get the Uber.”
“You can call the Uber now.” I take a deep breath. Brace myself.What’s the worst thing that could happen?No, stupid question, learned long ago it doesn’t help. My brain doesn’t understand that it’s meant to be comforting, just treats it as a prompt to invent as many worst-case scenarios as possible—which right now involve Julius laughing at my outfit so hard I die from humiliation.
“On it,” Julius replies, oblivious to the horror movie playing at double speed inside my head.
“You really don’t have to get the Lux every time, by the way,” I say. “The regular one is fine. You have to remember that my primary mode of transportation is the public bus, Julius; anything else is already an upgrade.”
“That might be true, but you’re traveling with me now,” he says. “I’ve already—”
I open the door, and he breaks off mid-sentence. He isn’t laughing. Nothing close to it. He’s staring at me with such intense, unabashedwant—like he can’t even hide it, like it’s already taking all his self-control just to keep standing there, hands at his sides.
“You … like the outfit?” I ask, a little unsure what to do with myself.
He walks over slowly, backing me up against the doorframe. “You want to know if I like it?” he murmurs, his lips tickling the shell of my ear. “I thought you were more perceptive than that, Sadie.”
I’m so overwhelmed with sensation that I forget to filter my next words. “I … wasn’t sure if you’d find me pretty enough—”
Another step, until his body is almost pressed to mine. Hardly necessary, not when I’m frozen to the spot already, his pitch-black eyes pinning me into place. “Are you still unsure?”
Warmth spreads through me, rising up to my skin. “I—I guess not—”
“Hm?” He bows his head, and I try not to gasp when his mouth skims my shoulder, over the delicate strap of my top. “What was that?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Good,” he says, his voice low and replete with approval, and the warmth inside my chest sharpens to heat—
We both startle when his phone chimes with a notification.
“Is that the Uber?” I ask.
He blinks, distracted, looking as disoriented as I feel. “What?”
“The Uber,” I repeat. “Is it downstairs?”
“Right,” he says, throwing a dirty look at his phone, like it should know better than to interrupt. “Yes.”
Of course Julius went ahead and requested the Uber Lux. Even though it’s only a fifteen-minute trip, the driver offers us everything from mineral water to strawberry Mentos and chewing gum, and asks if we have a specific temperature requirement for the air-conditioning. When we arrive, he hurries outside to open the door for us, wishes us a lovely evening, tells us earnestly that we’re a wonderful couple.
“We should really tip him,” I tell Julius as the car pulls away from the curb.
“Don’t worry, I have,” Julius replies.
The Marina is already packed with people. Tipsy college students and bleary-eyed finance men and gorgeous girls in leather jackets wander around the winding streets, fairy lights twinkling from the chic restaurants and boutiques. There’s so much to take in that I have to pause for a moment. Crowds everywhere, a blend of music, the night air warm, someone doubled over on the sidewalk from laughter or wine or both, their friend trying to help them. I try not to look so wide-eyed, so embarrassingly new to all this: breaking rules, going out to bars, having fun, wearing clothes that are designed to show rather than cover skin. But I must fail at it, because Julius takes my hand, squeezing it like he’s offering reassurance, and it does make me feel safer. Protected.
“Ready to go in?” he says, and when I nod, he leads me toward the line forming outside the bar.
“I can’t believethisis the first thing on your itinerary,” he remarks.
“I can’t believe it either,” I say. “It was mostly Abigail’s idea. And I wanted to get it out of the way.”
But as we move closer and closer to the entrance, I start having seventh thoughts. Everyone here looks so much older. “Did you bring the fake IDs?” I ask Julius.
