Crossing Read Free Page B

around my waist.
    It’s finally my turn to order drinks. “Eight gimlets please.”
    The male bartender’s eyes don’t even pretend to do a quick glance at my boobs. They’re nailed to mine during our entire transaction.
    “How many are you buying for?” he asks.
    “Myself and those three.” I point to the table and the girls wave.
    He nods. “Eight gimlets comin’ up. That’ll be sixteen.”
    You gotta love two dollar drink night. I hand him a twenty.
    He makes the drinks in record time and puts them on a tray for me. “Can you handle the tray?”
    I pick it up and hoist it above my head. “I worked Corn Fest all through high school. I got it.” I wink at him even though he’s already moved on to the next thirsty customer.
    I deliver the drinks and everyone takes their allotted two off the tray.
    Elizabeth holds both of her drinks up and we all follow. Two fisted toast! “To Fall term!” she says and we all echo her. “To halter tops!”
    “To pushy ballerinas!”
    Kristin and Cam clink their glasses together. “To crazyass neighbors!”

    X

    Four gimlets, or six…an even number of gimlets greater than two later, I am an awesome dancer. I look awesome in my magenta sequined halter-top. I am sweaty. There is body glitter all over my arms and chest, and I wasn’t wearing any when I came in the door.
    I’m hangin’ with the Drag Queens.
    Earlier, I was feeling how I do again, getting down, wanting to put my cardigan back on. Elizabeth had an endless stream of admirers wanting to buy her drinks, most of which she refused, some of which she didn’t. Currently, she is at the edge of the dance floor kicking her right leg up next to her right ear. It’s her party trick. She’s wearing black satin tap pants for fuck’s sake.
    But anyway, minions were worshipping at the altar of Elizabeth. Kristin and Cam were outside on their umpteenth smoke break, probably smoking more than cigarettes at that point. And I just was. I was at the table. Drinking gimlets and resqueezing the limes over the ice for lack of something better to do.
    I liked the music, okay? I like to dance, and I can dance when I’m sober, but I’m so much better at it when I’m drunk, y’know? And I wanted to dance, but I didn’t because I wanted to wear a cardigan.
    But then the Drag Queens walked in. I’d heard about them. That they did shows here on the weekends, but we’d never seen them because the cover doubles and we can get properly wasted at the Elks’ Lodge for that much money.
    But they’re gorgeous. Tall platform heels. Legs longer than Elizabeth’s. Slinky gowns and sequins. Bouffant hair up to there.
    I instantly smiled and I don’t know why, but I screamed, “My people!” and then pointed to my sequined halter-top.
    The loveliest lady sauntered over to me, her eye shadow four shades of blue. “You look good girl! Are you having fun tonight? ’Cause you aren’t dancing, and a sparkly little thing like you should be dancing, honey!”
    She extended her long gloved hand, and I put mine into it and let her pull me out onto the dance floor.
    I close my eyes. I raise my arms. I dance and dance and dance. I feel the music. It’s my pulse. I like myself like this.

Chapter Three

    I try not to look for Liam on my way into Villard Hall, but fail miserably, feeling a little disappointed when he’s not there holding the door to the Little Theatre open for me.
    But then my disappoint melts away because he’s waiting in the back row, saving me a seat instead.
    Sliding into it, I drop my backpack to the floor. “Hey, thanks.”
    “No problem.” He smiles and then reaches down into his backpack, coming up with a black cardigan sweater, much like the one I left at RUMORS on Monday night. “Here, I think this is yours. At least I hope it is or I stole some chick’s sweater by accident.”
    I take it from him and wad it up in my lap. “Uh, thanks? Were you at RUMORS on Monday night? I didn’t, uh, see you there and