Page 44 of Organized Chaos
“IDs first,” he demanded.
The girls reached into their purses while Gabby fished into my mine and dug out a fake ID. She flashed it to the bouncer on my behalf.
I had no intention of ever using that piece of document. Until this very second, I thought Gabby had it made as a joke based on a pseudo name I cherished. Now I realized that this ID had a purpose.
There was an age restriction to enter this club.
The bouncer raised the red velvet rope, handing us over to the hostess. My head moved side to side, scanning the place as we walked to the U-shaped lounge pod.
The girls crammed in, rounding the mahogany table in the middle. Before I followed suit, I took note of how they sat. Their shoulders were pulled back, legs crossed one over the other. I mimicked the pose after sliding in next to Gabby.
My gaze continued to bounce off each corner of the club. Without any sightings, I heavy-heartedly conceded thathewasn’t here tonight.
However, my surveillance established that our table was receiving the most attention. No surprise there. These girls all looked like models with exotic features and impeccable fashion sense. And for once, my outfit rivaled theirs. Raven picked it out, along with my remaining clothes for the trip.
The same thought must have crossed Avril’s mind as one long leg dangled over the other. Legs were Avril’s best feature, and she flaunted them tonight with nude pumps. “That dress is... looks expensive.” She nodded at my outfit, sounding slightly impressed.
With her arms looped around Avril’s, Esme turned in my direction to assess the claim. She was no less striking with caramel complexion and dark, kinky hair, which she had pulled back into a half-up.
“Is that custom made?” she asked, eyes fleeing to her own outfit—black leather tights and a gray top. “It fits well,” she acknowledged, though it seemed almost begrudgingly.
“It does,” Priya chimed in before I could respond. She also tugged at her outfit—a pencil skirt and a blue crop top that exposed her midriff. “You don’t usually wear...” she didn’t finish the thought. Tossing her thick dark hair over her shoulders, she asked instead, “Is it new?”
“Yeah. My sister bought it for me.”
My heart warmed, realizing Raven thought of a way to protect me even from afar. She had met these girls and anticipated they might be high-strung. I had an inkling that Raven wanted to humble them in a department she excelled in—fashion. She both made and bought me new outfits for this trip.
“I didn’t realize you were so skinny, Mia.” Avril looked down at her black midi dress that clung tightly to her body. “Totally jealous right now. I have gained like ten pounds since we arrived.”
“Actually, you have only gained four pounds since our arrival,” I declared right as the other girls vehemently denied Avril’s incorrect theory.
“No, you didn’t, Av.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re insane. You’re so skinny.”
An uncomfortable silence befell us as soon as my sentence clashed with theirs.
Avril’s eyes widened, mortified. Esme and Priya were shooting daggers in my direction. Gabby bit her bottom lip; her face scrunched up like she needed to mollify a lousy situation.
Unable to understand what was so upsetting, I tracked my actions.
Due to her excessive drinking during this trip and the dates aligning with what I presumed was her menstrual cycle, Avril's belly now had a slight curve that hadn’t existed when we first arrived, indicating bloating. Not enough to be ten pounds, but noticeable enough to at least be four or five.
Avril assumed she had gained ten pounds. I was merely informing that she had, in fact, gainedless.
Surely, that was good news?
Apparently not.
Gabby’s friends had never been fans of mine, and my comment sealed the deal. Following the awkward moment, they left me out of their conversations entirely, though Gabby tried her best to include me.
Gabby loved my no-filter tongue, claiming that it made her trust me as I’d never lie to protect her feelings. However, the characteristic she loved the most was my downfall. Her friends, like many others, didn’t appreciate my candor, better known as my foot-in-the-mouth syndrome.
My lack of socialization often rendered me clueless. I observed others in order to mimic their social skills, but despite the years of training, my odd cues occasionally slipped out. It wasn’t an attempt to be mean, though I doubted I could convince these girls otherwise.
“Finally.” Gabby sprang to her feet and clapped her hands with extra enthusiasm, presumably distracting everyone from the tension. “The cavalry is here. Yay!”
