Page 70 of The Best Book Boyfriend
Luke:What do you have planned?
Kara:Garden centre with a cafe that we like up the A1, and then a walk around a nature reserve.
Luke:I’m working but that sounds nice. Ask me next time.
Kara: Will do x
Luke:Night.
“See. That was fine. Just friends,” I say after I read her the messages. I’m totally not paying attention to the aching pang in my belly, or the lack of a kiss on his last message.
The following Friday I’m clearing away our dinner plates and boxing up all the leftovers. The girls are picking a movie, but I don’t think I can take another night of watching other people’s happy-ever-afters. I’m bored and stuck in our routine, especially now I’m not spending every one of these Friday nights crying about my broken heart.
“I want to go clubbing,” I shout through from the kitchen, the words surprising me as much as the girls.
“Yes!” Hattie punches two fists up into the air. She loves dancing, but has long given up asking me to go with her, and usually goes with her workmates instead. “We’re doing it.”
“Clubbing?” Megan is slathering moisturiser up and down her arms. “We don’t go clubbing.”
“Why not? We’re not dead yet. We used to love dancing. Remember the Year 11 disco?” I remind her of the best and worst night of our lives. Best because we felt so grown up, tipsy on vodka smuggled in in water bottles, our whole lives ahead of us. Worst because we danced so much that we shredded our feet in strappy heels we could barely walk in. We spent the entire summer nursing blisters.
“We are thirty, though.”
“Practically babies,” Hattie laughs.
“But... but... we go to garden centres and take day trips to visit independent bookshops,” Megan objects. She’s not wrong, those are two of our favourite things.
“I’m sick of meeting guys on these apps. Can’t I just meet someone the old fashioned way by sticking my tongue down their throat on a dancefloor and hoping I don’t catch glandular fever?”
“The Hattie Method?” Megan laughs.
“Hey, it works!”
“But I’m already in my pyjamas?”
“Come on, Megan. Please?” I’m not above begging now I’ve decided this is what I want to do. “It will be fun. Maybe we’ll meet our future husbands tonight.”
Chapter 30
Kara
Halfanhourlater,we’ve raided my wardrobe, slapped on a bit of make-up and are piling into a taxi. We may not look our absolute finest, but we’ll do.
Riley’s is the only place in our town that could really be called a nightclub. It’s upstairs in what used to be a pool hall years and years ago. I think my dad played there in his younger days. Outside there is a short queue, and I feel ancient compared to everyone else in it. Either that or they’re all fifteen and we’ve inadvertently turned up to an underage disco. It’s colder than I expected, but of course we didn’t bring coats, so I’m grateful when the bouncer waves us inside and we walk upstairs and through the doors to the club.
It’s loud, stifling, and grimy. Packed tables and chairs flank the large dance floor in the middle of the room, which we have to cross to get to the bar that lines the back wall. Thankfully, a disgusting smoke machine fills the air, so I don’t feel like I’m on display at a meat market.
We’ve been here a few times, usually for people’s birthdays, but we’re not exactly what you would call regulars. We squeeze in at the bar, Hattie grabs a barman’s attention and orders three double vodka and cokes. I’d rather have a crisp glass of white wine, but it’s not really that kind of vibe here.
“This is horrible!” Megan shouts into my ear. “I feel so old.”
“Me too!” I yell back and down my drink. “Let’s go dance.” We’re about to head onto the dancefloor when Hattie is served a tray of tequila shots. She is such a bad influence, I didn’t even see her order these. I know I’m going to regret it but I down mine anyway and grab their hands to drag them to the dancefloor.
We find a good little space for the three of us near the DJ booth. I really love dancing. Or at least I love moving my body in a way that I hope resembles something akin to dancing. I don’t really have any rhythm, can’t always remember the words, but if a song has a good beat then there’s nothing better than having a jump around. Especially when I’ve had enough alcohol to not care what anyone thinks. The bass is coursing through my veins, and it’s enough just to feel alive and free for a while.
Adam and I never used to go out to places like this. At first it was because we were saving so much, but even once we were older and we’d finished the house, it wasn’t something we fancied. Sometimes we’d go out for friends’ birthdays, but Adam would always stay right by my side, and we never stayed long. I thought he was so romantic, never wanting to let me go, always protecting me, but now I think maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. He could get quite jealous at times, even if there was never anything to be worried about.
I don’t know this song, my feet are killing me, there’s no sign of Hattie, and I’m so sweaty from dancing I’ll need a shower when I get home.
