Page 93 of Encounter

“It’s always so fucking busy here.”

One of the other members of our group, a girl I never really spoke to and couldn’t remember her name, joined the conversation after staring at her phone. “The music’s pretty good though.”

Ronnie nodded. “Damn right.”

“The DJs that come through here can be really good.”

“Sometimes, it’s a literal moshpit in there,” Fabien said.

I prayed they wouldn’t try and drag me out to dance, because there was no way I was going to have the courage to do so, not without getting drunk.

A while later, Stella and Jonas finally emerged from the crowd with a tray full of shots and a few specific cocktails. “We’ve got coke and rum, we’ve got vodka, we’ve got Martinis,babyyy!”

Everyone quickly grabbed their glasses and when I reached for a shot to calm my nerves, I bumped into Kevin’s hand as he tried to reach for the same one. “Sorry,” I mumbled, quickly pulling away. With a chuckle, Kevin gave me a wide, friendly smile and gestured for me to have it.

His shoulder brushed over mine as he downed his shot. “Don’t worry so much, Gale,” he said, right before his face twisted into a painful grimace caused by the alcohol burning down his throat.

Kevin had a smile on his face every time I looked at him. He was always close to me, and his glances were strangely soft. I probably shouldn’t have felt self-conscious or awkward about it—he was only being friendly—but I did. Before I had the time to beat myself up over my lack of social skills, Fabien spoke.

“What school did you go to again, Galen?”

Holding his martini, he sat there looking like some politician ready to have his pictures taken. No wonder even the professor blushed around him.

“Humbert Senegal’s Conservatory,” I replied, with nowhere near as much finesse and charm as Fabien.

“Oh, right!” he blurted out, widening his chestnut eyes. Even Stella and a few others turned to me with faces full of curiosity. “Remember my parents wanted me to go there for a bit.”

“Yeah, heard it’s not as great as they try to make it seem,” Ronnie added, nodding.

Chuckling nervously and playing with the shot glass in my hands, I agreed. “Yeah, it... It’s alright, I guess.” Knowing I couldn’t sayhow badit really was, and frustrated by it, I closed my eyes and downed the vodka, cringing and shaking afterward.

“Ugh, let’s not talk about school!” Stella ordered with her arms stretched out. “Lalalala—no more school, no more bullshit! We’re here to have fun, goddammit!”

Kevin next to me whistled in agreement and grabbed another shot. “Damn right!” He seemed to be in a good mood. Everyone else was, so when I caught myself clenching my hands over my thighs and holding my breath, I ordered my body to relax.

Aware of my timid disposition, Ronnie scooted next to me and started showing me pictures from the trips they had done. It didn’t take long for Stella and the others to energetically venture onto the dance floor, while Fabien stayed with us for a while, talking about his travels. They were all such interesting people—well-rounded, traveled, experienced. The entire time, I prayed for them to not ask about me. What would I have told them? That my life had been a boring, mundane, depressing existence up until...

Up until I met Chast.

A few more shots later, the words started falling out of my mouth with much more ease. Stella’s infectious excitement, Kevin’s wide eyes as he asked me questions, and Fabien’s charming personality—it turned the whole evening into this soft, fuzzy dream, separated from reality by a thin veil of loud music and stinging vodka running down my throat.

I laughed and drank more, hoping to bring out the minuscule part of me that was sociable and confident.

It didn’t take long for most of the group to become completely wasted.

While Ronnie and Stella drunkenly slow-danced not too far from our seat, Fabien became surrounded by all the other girls who gathered as he spoke in his charming accent, making all of them weak in their knees. As that was happening, I sat there smirking half out of it, until Kevin nudged on my sleeve.

Turning, I became flustered for some reason—probably because of the way he looked at me and how close he was. “Y-Yeah?”

“I really like the shirt,” he said, slurring his words a bit. “Wanna dance? Come on!” Before I knew it, Kevin was pulling me up, bouncing like an excited puppy.

Gulping, I gestured for him to wait and downed the last shot on the tray. Feeling a little woozy and worrying about how bad I would feel the next day, I pushed all of those thoughts aside and followed him onto the dance floor.

Kevin was really letting loose—jumping around with his hands up high, vibing to the music—while I tried to not look as awkward as I felt.

Seeing me, he burst out laughing and came closer, putting his hands on my hips. “Come on, you’ve got to move ‘em! Let it aaaall go,” he scolded me jokingly. Taken back by the physical contact, I darted my eyes down and then up again to meet his gaze. “That’s it, that’s it!” he cheerily commented on my progress as my body started to sway from side to side.

A hesitant grin found its way on my face.

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