Page 41 of Like You Want It
“Says the girl who is already stumbling drunk and showing me her camel toe.”
Dina’s eyes fly down to check out her crotch, then swing up to Fin’s, flashing with irritation.
“I donothave a camel toe. And you only saw me stumble because these boots are a size too big.” She looks at me. “Thanks for having big ass feet, Sunshine.”
I giggle.
“Sunshine?” Fin asks, his eyes returning to me. “Does that mean I’m not the only one who gets ridiculous nicknames?”
I give him a cheesy grin. “Come on, Finelope. Calm down a little bit and enjoy yourself. We’re just going dancing. Not to do lines of cocaine in the bathroom.”
He lets out a sigh and cracks his neck back and forth. Then he stares at me, assessing. “Fine,” he says, then points a finger at me. “But I’m coming with.”
I give him another amazingly cheesy smile. “This is gonna be awesome.”
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When we finally pull into The Rodeo, it quickly becomes clear that we are not the only people that think a Friday evening is a good time to go line dancing.
“My guess is that it’s some sort of post-holiday rush,” I say as Fin trolls for a parking spot.
He insisted on driving instead of taking an Uber. Which I think is stupid, but whatever.
“Everyone goes home for the holidays and gains a few pounds. Once the New Year hits, people think dancing is a good way to lose weight, but have a good time while doing it.”
Susie laughs. “I should have thought of that. I’ve just been spending all of my time on the stupid elliptical.”
“Which gym do you go to? You could always come to mine and take yoga,” I say, giving her a cheesy smile.
Fin laughs – actual laughter – and Susie reaches over and playfully swats his chest.
“It’s not funny!” she declares, though the smile on her face gives her away.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to picture you, the least coordinated and most inflexible person I know, taking a yoga class.”
We all have a good chuckle at Susie’s expense.
“Sorry, but theleast coordinatedaward definitely goes to Carly. Get ready for quite the show once we get on the dance floor.”
Fin catches my eyes in the rearview mirror. “That true?”
I cross my arms and glare at him, though there’s no heat to it. “I happen to be anexceptionaldancer.”
“Yes. Exceptional,” Dina says. “Exceptionally bad.”
We all laugh, though it quickly turns to cheers when Fin finally finds a parking spot.
“The line shouldn’t be too long,” I say, leading the way through the cars towards the front entrance. “The parking lot is always packed but they’re really quick about letting people in.”
Once we get to the doors, I’m proven right. Only about ten people in line, hoping to get in so they can dance the night away. We file in at the back, scooting forward every few minutes.
“So, Fin,” Dina says as we wait, “what’s your story?”
He stares at her in silence for way too long before finally answering. “I don’t have a story.”
Dina laughs, and I can’t help but shake my head and try to hide a giggle too. “Ohcome on.Everyone has a story!”
“Not me.”
