Page 24 of Damnation
I sigh, giving in to temptation. “All right, let’s go.”
***
Before going to the club, we take a small detour to Leila’s dorm on campus, near the Marsy. She offered to lend us some of her clothes, because even if she does know the bouncer, we should still at leastlooktwenty-one. Tiffany chooses a ruched blue bodycon dress, which she pairs with heels in the same color. Leila goes for a darker look: a fitted skirt made of burgundy leather and a lacy black crop top under a studded jacket, along with a pair of biker boots.
I want to be daring but not too daring. So I pick a red dress with thin straps and a generous sweetheart neckline. The satin fabric hits me at midthigh and hugs my body perfectly, highlighting the curves of my hips and my round butt. According to Tiffany, the contrast between the dress and my long black hair (which I have decided to wear down) creates a “bombshell effect” that’s going to draw everyone’s attention. Even though I’m only really interested in catching one person’s eye.
When it comes to shoes, though, I remain faithful to my Converse. It’s not the best combination, I know, but I like it better this way.
I pay close attention to Leila during the entire hair and makeup operation to see if I can glean any hints about her mood. After what she told us at the bar, I can imagine she’s not in a great place right now. But I can see that she is similar to her brother in this: they both tend to appear outwardly impassive and unaffected, while inside of them a war is raging.
Shortly thereafter, we arrive in front of a club illuminated by a large neon palm tree with the wordsClubSevenflashing intermittently underneath it. We can hear the muffled bass even from outside. I tug the edges of my short jacket tight against my exposed chest and look around at all the people. They linger in small groups, smoking, laughing, and talking. Here and there, kids perch on the hoods of parked cars while an endless line snakes out the front of the club.
None of this seems to be a problem for Leila, who motions for us to follow her and moves to the front of the line, ignoring the shoutedinsults and protests of the people who have been waiting for who knows how long. When we reach the entrance, we are met by a mountain of a man, his bulging muscles highlighted by his tight black T-shirt. His close-cropped hair gives him a tough look. Tiffany and I exchange a “not bad” eyebrow raise.
“Hey, Marcus,” Leila exclaims. “Did my brother get here yet?” she asks, rummaging in her clutch for something.
The bouncer nods. “About an hour ago.”
Leila’s face lights up in a triumphant smile. “Fantastic!” She leans in close to Marcus’s ear and whispers, “Do you think you could let us in?”
The bouncer looks skeptically at Tiffany and me. “You I can,” he says to Leila. “You two need to show ID,” he orders, pointing a finger at us.
Shit.
“Come on, Marcus. They’re my friends. We’ll be good,” Leila says, giving him a look that would soften a pack of angry hyenas. But he just shakes his head, unmovable.
“You know the rules, JC. You can come in, but they can’t, not without ID.”
“Who the hell is JC?” Tiff whispers into my ear. I shrug, having no idea.
“Listen, Marcus, she’s my brother’s girlfriend,” Leila adds, pointing at me, and my heart leaps. “And the redhead has a date with Martinez. They’re waiting for us, and we’re already late.”
Hold on a minute… Martinez?
Is this the same Martinez that Thomas and Blake were talking about in the cafeteria?
Marcus frowns, looking surprised. “The guys didn’t tell me anything about that.”
Leila nods firmly and takes her cell phone out of her clutch. “But it’s true, I promise you. So are you going to let us in, or do I have to call them to come get us? You know how Martinez doesn’t like to be bothered.”
He studies us carefully for a few seconds, cocking an eyebrow,before giving up. He takes our right hands and stamps the backs with the name of the club. Then he unhooks the rope that cordons off the entrance and lets us through. As we pass, Leila gives him a cryptic smile, which he returns.
The thought occurs to me:Is it possible that those two are…?
I shake my head. Don’t ask questions, Vanessa. This is a Collins we’re talking about; just don’t ask questions.
“Give it to us to straight: You fucking that bouncer?”
My eyes bug out and I whip my head around to give Tiffany an admonishing look.
“No,” Leila answers, laughing. “Honestly, after what happened with your brother, I have a hard time trusting men,” she finishes in a meek and suddenly insecure tone that causes an uncomfortable silence to descend upon all of us.
Tiffany stops suddenly, looking devastated. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I know it might not mean much to you, but I’m not like him. Well, we are twins, so I am like him in some ways. But you have to believe me when I tell you that I have never been more ashamed than I was when I found out what he did to you.” She gives me a sad look. “And what he did to you,” she adds. Tiffany takes Leila’s hand and smiles at her.
“It doesn’t matter; it’s over now. And I really like you,” Leila tells her, making us all smile.
“Why did the bouncer call you that name?” I ask her as we walk through the long dark tunnel that connects the external and internal entrances.
