Page 18 of To Feel Like This Again
“Okay, it’s at the Palm hotel. See you in a bit.” And they take off to get ready.
“How did you know to bring extra clothes?” I ask as we walk back to the car, relieved we don’t have to go and buy clothes in Port Antonio, sixteen miles away.
“Do you really think I was going to drive across the island with you, with just one bikini? No way. I already knew you would book somewhere nice to try and impress me. So, I changed my flight from today to tomorrow. You better make it worth my while. You understand?”
“Duly noted.”
“Also, Einstein, a simple check of your work calendar showed that you logged a vacation day tomorrow.”
Chapter 10
Nicholas
“Sorry mi boss, the parking lot full. You’ve to park on the road,” the security guard advises. Normally I’d be annoyed but a full parking lot is a great sign for parties. So, I park the vehicle on the side of the road by a yellow curb, right beside the entrance to the hotel and we make our way inside to the ticket booth. Highly doubt a police officer will issue me a ticket for parking by a yellow curb on a Sunday night. But if they want to be an asshole. Oh well.
Standing in line for upwards of ten minutes and counting to buy tickets would normally piss me off, but yet another great sign for parties.
I need tonight to be fun.
“When was the last time you’ve been to a party?” I continue with the random questions, waiting for the twenty plus people ahead of us in the queue to get their tickets.
“I’ve never been to a real party before.” She says this looking down, almost as if she were embarrassed. “Unless you count birthday parties and office parties,” she continues, avoiding eye contact.
“Do you like to dance?” I whisper in her ear.
“I think so.” Still avoiding eye contact.
“Let me ask again… Do you like to dance?” This time, I put my arm around her shoulder.
“I do!” This time said more sprightly and finally making eye contact.
“Great, try and keep up tonight. I plan to own on the dancefloor,” I say with confidence. Although, technically, you don’t really have dancefloors at beach parties. But she got the point.
“We’ll see about that, mister.”
Now, this is a fucking party! People moving in sync to the latest dancehall moves; chicks dressed in short shorts; a cup of something in everyone’s hand; chicks bubbling on guys everywhere… even in the water. What therass? I can’t believe there’s a chick grinding out a bredda on top of the speaker box; whoa whoa whoa… who’s thatbadchick in the blue jeans and black halter top bikini.She is nice.
I assume you knowbadmeanssexy.
I hold her hand (Lisa, of course, not the bad chick) and we make our way through the jampacked crowd on the outskirts of the party, sayingsorry[Jamaican party translation: excuse me]every few stepswhile I use my free hand to shove people out of the way until we reach the bar.
“What you want to drink?” I shout, trying to outdo the music.
“Whatever you’re getting.”
“Two rum and cokes,” I tell the bartender, handing him anicetip. So, the next time I come back, I’ll get through before everyone else.
“Let’s find Robert and Jody,” I practically yell. “They’re close to the right of the stage,” I holler louder this time, showing her Robert’s WhatsApp message, and then pointing to the right of the stage.
“Okay, lead the way. I’m right behind you.”
I take her hand, and we bully our way through the belly of the crowd, saying “sorry” a lot morethan before,squeezing into pockets of space whenever they open up.
“Over there.” Lisa spots Robert and Jody, and points in their direction with the rum and coke in her hand, spilling some of her drink on a dude in the process. He didn’t care, or notice; he is too busy with a big batty gyal. Excited to find them, we push our way through the crowd to get to them. It took a good amount of “sorry”, but we finally meet up with crew — Robert, Jody… and Stephen, Terri, Michelle and Alexia. My other good friends, whom Lisa also thinks are acquaintances.
“She’s hot,” Alexia whispers in my ear as we hug. Strange, it feels good to get the nod from a friend who I have an understanding with… if you get what I’m saying.
Drinking and vibing and dancing and bussing imaginary shots in the air with our fingers, the DJ drops the number one trending dancehall song and every girl gets wild in the dance. Following the other chicks in the party, Lisa backs into me, bends over and starts tofast wine(twerk). I rest my hands on her thighs and move to her rhythm.She goes hard…. And in the process, gets me hard.
