Page 43 of Shattered

I giggle and shake my head. “No. How can I do that?” I ask, pointing towards the stage.

“You want to dance?” His voice is full of surprise.

“Yeah. I need to actually.”

He looks me up and down. “Fill out this waiver and let me copy your license.”

“Really? That easy?”

He nods. “We go through a lot of girls. I’ve shortened the employment questions,” he says with a smile.

Sounds legit.

I slide over my license and start filling out the paper. When he brings it back to me, he asks, “What’s your stage name?”

I didn’t think about that part. “River,” I answer. I know the announcer saying his name will make him pay attention. It’s my turn to make him jealous.

He sticks out his bottom lip and shrugs. “Alright. The ladies dressing room is straight back that way. I’ll turn your name into the announcer. Any song you have in mind?”

Song. Song. What’s a good stripping song? I shrug. “Surprise me.”

I hop off the barstool and my vision blurs. I sure am glad I’m drunk right now because I’d never do this if I wasn’t. But it’s something I need to do. I need to cross it off.

I stumble into the changing room to find a bunch of naked women.

A red head stands up right. “Did Mick hire a newbie already? Fuck, Tiffini just quit not even an hour ago.”

“I’m not hired. I’m just checking something off my bucket list.”

They all laugh or smile with curious and suddenly friendly eyes.

The red head walks over to me. “You need something to wear?”

I look at my jeans and tank top. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“Come with me.” She leads me to the back of the room where a large wall is covered with a curtain. She pulls it back, revealing the ‘uniforms.’

“You’re kind of late so all the good ones are probably taken, but I’m sure we can find you something.”

She pulls out a school girl uniform: a short, white, collared shirt, a tiny, plaid skirt, and a red sting bikini underneath it.

“I have the white stockings and heels if you want.” She hands over the skimpy outfit.

“That would be great. Thanks!” I smile wide, completely confused as to why.

This isn’t something I want to do. Or is it?

Oh fuck it. Why even bother trying to figure out these emotions anymore?

I pull on the uniform that barely covers my ass and put on the heels. The girls make a fuss, pretending like I’m their personal Barbie. They deck me out in full on makeup and body glitter. I cringe when they rub the glitter over my skin and have second thoughts. I hate glitter with a passion.

Refusing to look at myself in the mirror, I push the feeling of wanting to vomit down and give myself a mental pep talk.

You can do this. Do it to get back at River. Do it for the list and Katie. No, do it for yourself. Put yourself out there, try new things. Live!

“You’re up, sugar,” the redhead says as the three girls, from the stage, rush into the dressing room, covering their bodies with the clothes they have shed.

“Everyone welcome the pretty Rivverr,” Comes the announcement and I freeze.

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