Page 21 of Swallow Your Sorries

Boarding school kids are always bored on the weekends, so why not create a spot to rub shoulders with others in the top one per cent? Networking, alliances, heck, even potential engagements were already creeping through the seniors’ minds, as Hale pointed out when he talked me into cosigning. Everything is strategic and premature in our circles. A little bubble normal folk can’t understand nor penetrate, at least not well. Hale’s family and their strip clubs are a prime example.

The only drawback is the age limit. Legally, club entry went hand in hand with the legal drinking age of eighteen. That limited Hale’s patrons to just the seniors, half of whom wouldn’t turn eighteen before the final semester. A fact he seemed unbothered about.

“What does the top one per cent love more than anything in the world?”he’d asked me a month ago.“Exclusivity. It’ll be a point of contention and victory, mark my words.”

“You only get a pass tonight,” Hale says, trying to steal Zedd’s shot glass. Though, if he had as much luck as I did, there’s no need for concern.

“So what? I can’t get in once school starts?” Zedd snorts, lifting the glass over his shoulder. His birthday isn’t until October.

“The law is the law,” Hale says, reaching for it again. Zedd wretches his arm back and Hale ends up knocking it instead. “Besides, I'm not opening for a few months.”

The ensuing sound of glass shattering freezes my blood and stops my heart.

Blood explodes before my vision. I blink my left eye and try to rub it away, but I stop immediately. It burns like hellfire. Through my right eye, I see that my hand is covered in splinters of glass, a million of which suddenly feel embedded into every exposed inch of my body.

Hhhrssh… Hhhrssh… Something’s rattling and wheezing all at the same time.

I try to turn my head, but it’s no use. My neck feels stiff and frozen in place. Something pressing against it warns me not to move. Instead, my good eye finds the rattling source, but as I lock eyes with my mother’s distant ones, the rattling stops.

“Gant?”

A shoulder knocks into mine and I blink, watching the glittering pieces of Zedd’s shattered glass on the warped hardwood.

“Where’d you go?” Bae asks quietly.

“To the beginning,” I say, but I ignore his inquisitive gaze.

“Fuck’s sake,” Zedd grunts, sidestepping the mess. “You’re acting like I’m some liquor virgin.”

“Clubs and liquor licences come with strict rules,” Hale says, flustered as Rie Rie comes out of nowhere with a dustpan and broom. I’m surprised the club owns either. “I thought you of all people would be happy I’m taking this so seriously.”

“The law wasn’t the law when we were drinking together at fourteen,” Zedd huffs as we watch Rie Rie miss half the shards.

“You’re also taking the wordsgentlemen’s clubseriously. What’s with the lack of women?” Bae asks as an influx of more men stream in. “I was looking forward to some distractions tonight. I think we all need it.”

Me. He means me.

But sliding into another body when I just want to escape my own is almost as unappealing as the club itself. I also hoped it would be a distraction tonight, but even the ghastly decor can’t give my whirring mind a break.A reset, because it’s trapped two years in the past.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be intermixed most nights. But Sundays are boys only minus a few female temp workers. An ode to our ancestors of previous traditional gentlemen’s clubs. A space for men to clear their heads, discuss business—”

“And fuck waitresses in peace without their female counterparts tittering around?” Bae asks.

Hale raises his drink pointedly as the music grows louder.

“Of course, you’ll have to replace them with working models first,” Zedd grimaces as Rie Rie dumps the dustbin in a plant pot. “Forget about renovations. When the hell are you going to get new staff? Young hot ones that understand the difference between tequila and dishwater.”

That’s a detail I’m still shocked Hale hasn’t worked out yet. Pussy is his life’s philosophy.

“And what about business during the week?” Bae asks. “You can’t just rely on weekends. Besides the university and junior college, only Ennox isn’t a boarding school so you may get a few students trickling in throughout the week, but otherwise, it’s going to be too dead to sustain itself. Especially when you cut half the gender on Sundays.”

“Neither can I only rely solely on fickle rich kids. That’s precisely why this place has three levels. Downstairs will be for any normal drifters, looking for moderately priced food and the occasional live band. Nothing fancy. Angus burgers, draft beer, truffle fries, a good wine selection, etc. But up here,” Hale spins around. “We’re aiming for more class. Gambling tables. Sexy waitresses—yes, new hires—a fabulous smoke selection, and parlours to sleep off the buzz. You name it.”

“No strippers?” Zedd asks in surprise.

Hale’s expression falls. “No. It may be a club, but it’ll be different from my family’s.”

I’ll be different from my family, his unspoken words hang in the air.

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