Page 4 of The End of Summer

Three dots. Then a pause. Then, three more dots.

Possibly. Depends.

On?

Three more dots.

Well… how open minded are you?

CHAPTER TWO

GRETCHEN

It isnota strip club.

It is a pole dancing studio.

My outfit might make one think otherwise, but I repeat: it isnota strip club.

Jenna dug through her closet to find me the fishnet stockings and the barely-there “skirt.” I hesitate to even call it that. A washcloth might cover more. The fuchsia push-up bra belongs to me, and the threadbare tank top that I would typically wear as an undershirt has been in my drawer since high school.

The shoes, though, Jenna bought for me. They were the real point of contention when she explained this gig.

“I can’t walk in heels,” I insisted. “Don’t you remember? This is how I lost my last job?”

“These are platforms,” she replied. “Yes, there’s a heel, but it’s not the same thing. It’s more like walking on a pair of cement blocks.”

“Andthatshould somehow be more comfortable?”

“I didn’t say it was comfortable,” Jenna corrected me. “But I don’t think you’ll break your neck. Plus, regular platforms are the gateway drug.”

“To what?” I asked, incredulous.

“You’ll see. For now, just wear them. You’ll be fine. Plus, they make your legs look longer. They’re cute. You’ll get compliments.”

“I need cash, not compliments,” I reminded her. “Plus, I don’t want you spending your money on me.”

“Girl, you eat cereal for, like, every meal. These are an investment. Trust me. You’re gonna make bank, and when you do, you can pay me back for them.”

“I hesitate to ask how much they cost.”

“Not much,” she assured me. “80 bucks. Not the end of the world. You’ll see, Gretch. You’ll make ten times that amount on a good day. Now, walk,” she commanded. I slid my feet into the shoes and traversed her bedroom. “See? They’re not bad.”

My center-of-gravity felt off-kilter in the black, patent-leather shoes. In Jenna’s full-length mirror, I could see that she was right; they did make my body look longer and leaner, reminding me of the yoga phase I went through in high school. Of course, there were no shoes in yoga, which might explain why I still like it to this day.

I traversed the carpet once, twice, three times for good measure.

“You look hot,” Jenna said.

“Thanks?” I laughed.

“It’s perfect. They’re going to love you.”

“And you’re sure this is legit?”

“Of course I am. I did it for ten weeks last summer. That job bought me my Jeep.”

“And it’s definitely not a strip club?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

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