Page 15 of Forever After Never

“This is a girl’s night, and I am absolutely not on the pull. Men are fucking idiots,” she says back, brow furrowed, sandwiching her words with sips of wine.

We sit down at the mirror to do our makeup. Although I put minimal base on my face, I decide to go all out with the rest of it. A smoky eyeshadow, which intensifies the color of my eyes. A bright red lip, false lashes, and some bronzer. I love to do my makeup; it is such a therapeutic process. Finishing my eyebrow powder, I admire myself in the mirror. I look good when I try to, and I can appreciate that I don’t resemble a thumb or sewer rat this evening.

I’ve left my hair to do its own thing. I am blessed with beautifully thick, dark, wavy hair and rarely style it. It’s wild and always looks as if I’ve stepped out of a salon because it’sso bouncy. I will never not be happy with my hair. It’s the one thing I don’t have to make effort with. I feel pulled together and turn my attention to my outfit for the evening. I pull on a black low-cut floaty blouse and some chub rub shorts and follow it up with a black tube skirt, which hugs my ass and thighs perfectly. Unlike Alice’s plain black boots, my ankle boots have chains hanging off them. They’re brilliantly chunky and comfortable and make noise when I walk. Standing in the middle of the room, I click my heels together to accentuate the noise. The large, colorful tattoo on the top of my right thigh peeks out from the bottom of the skirt. I have one tattoo and no more. It extends over the top of my leg and hugs around my hip. A swallow and a trail of different coloured peonies adorn my skin. It’s a sexy part of myself that I can keep hidden if I choose to. Slinging on my trusty denim jacket, I pull my hair out from inside the collar, fluffing up my waves as I do.

Alice is halfway through her second glass of wine as I sink back my third dark rum of the evening. My cheeks are already warm, and I am practically vibrating with the excitement of going out for the night. We are dancing around my bedroom, giggling without a care in the world, and singing to our favorite streaming playlist,“Metal songs to sing along to.”The angsty teenagers in us come to life with every song. While my music tastes have diversified as I’ve have grown into an adult, this will always be my go-to ‘get ready’ music.

Jed is sprawled on the bed, looking at us as though we each have two heads. He should be used to this by now.

“Oh my god, Autumn – we haven’t done this in so long. I didn’t realise how much I needed it,” Alice says, thoroughly out of breath from swinging her impeccably straight hair around for the last twenty minutes. “Shall we stay here instead? I am sure we’ll have as much fun in your bedroom as we will at a bar!” She pleads at me in a childish voice and pokes her bottom lip out.

“Absolutely not, Ali. I need to go out and listen to louder-than-necessary music. My head is reeling, and I need to let my hair down.” As much as Sawyer pisses me off, my body pricks with excitement at the thought of seeing him wherever I go, and part of me hopes that he shows up tonight.

We decide to get a cab to the next town over –Saltern Lake.There is a great rock bar there, and it is the perfect setting for being absolutely wasted without getting into mischief.

I drop Jed to my neighbours for the evening because I don’t like leaving him alone for too long. My sweet old neighbors dote on Jed, caring for him as though they were his real grandparents. I know I don’t have to worry about him if I am stumbling in through the door at 3 a.m.

“Goodbye, Jeddy Bear. You be good for Jackie and Dale.” I ruffle his head and thank my neighbors with a bottle of red wine and some cheese and crackers.

“Oh, Autumn, you didn’t need to do that, honey. But we’re glad you did.” A wicked laugh rolls out of Jackie. “It’s very sweet of you, but we always welcome little Jed. He is a little angel for us, and it’s lovely to have to company.”

I blow Jackie a kiss, and she gives me a wave as the cab arrives.

We arrive at the bar a little while later - Unoriginal for sure, but this place is calledThe Bar at 1408.As you can probably guess, it is named after what it is and its building number. I love it here. It’s the type of place where your feet stick to the floor and always makes me hot and sweaty. It is usually crowded, and the people that frequent it are so friendly. There is rarely trouble. I feel safe and know that I can have fun without being bothered by anyone. The large room has restrooms off to each side. TVs on the wallusually play old cult films, which seems a little out of place for a bar, but it works here.

The vibe around here is perfect. Music thumps through the speakers so loud that you can feel it in your chest. There is a huge dancefloor and bench-style tables set around the outside. The walls are red and peppered with old band posters. The lights are low, and classic strobes, lasers, and smoke machines add to the mood.

As Alice and I go to order drinks, we walk up to the circular bar right in the middle of the room. We wait for a few minutes to get to the front; I am eyeballing the rum selection, trying to decide which one I want to start with. Suddenly, I feel as if I am being watched. It’s the sort of feeling you get where you can imagine eyes drilling into the back of your skull, but when I turn around, I see nobody. Instinct kicks in, and I become hyper-alert. Pulling my clutch closer to me, my knuckles white from clenching it so hard.

“Ughh, I have an odd feeling, Ali. Like I’m being watched. It’s creeping me out.” I shudder as I scan the bar, trying to locate the source of my unease.

“Of course you’re being watched. You’ve seen yourself, right? You are smoking hot. Anyway, it is probably Sawyer. He seems to pop up everywhere,” she replies, and I roll my eyes at her.

We order our drinks: dark rum over ice for me and a bizarre sounding hipster beer for Alice. Much to her dismay, the wine they serve here isn’t the kind you’d want to drink. Unless, of course, you’re happy paying thirty dollars for a five-dollar bottle of wine.

Of course, they sell wine, but it barely qualifies. I think paint stripper is more accurate.

We make our way past hot bodies to one of the emptier tables. There is a group of a few men at one end, and we take up residence at the other end. Polite smiles are exchanged, butthere is no point in trying to have a conversation because it’s so loud. You don’t come here to talk, but rather to let go and have a great time. Alice’s favourite song blasts through the speaker, and a high-pitched squeal escapes her mouth.

“Come and dance with me, Autumn!” She grabs my arm and pulls me from the seat, leading me to the dance floor.

We forget the world when we are dancing through the smoke and lights, surrounded by other hot, sweaty bodies.

After an hour or so, we are a few drinks deep, and my hair is stuck to the back of my neck. I didn’t take my jacket off when I arrived, and I am massively regretting that decision now. Everything is sticking to me, so I decide to ditch my jacket at the closest table with a bunch of people I recognize. They are regulars here and genuinely lovely people, so I know it will be safe. Everyone is having an amazing time, and most people are in their own little worlds, letting go of their weekly worries.

I am out of breath, and my chest rises and falls like I have run a marathon. I make a mental note to do more cardio. I take some time away from dancing, as the buzz from the alcohol is starting to make me feel a lot dizzier than I usually would be.

I make my way back to the bar, order another round of drinks, and someone slams into my back, causing me to fall into the bar and slam my ribs against it.

Fuck that hurt.

I wince and rub the sore part.

I turn around to come face to face with a man I don’t recognize. He is so far into my personal space that I can’t move at all. Immediately, I feel like a deer in headlights. He is tall, maybe six-foot-one, and he’s slender, with blonde hair. I don’t know what it is about him, but he makes me feel uneasy.

“Oh. Sorry, babe. I thought you were someone else,” he says with a sinister smile,but he doesn’t fucking move.

As we are taught to ‘be nice’ when we are women, I chime back with a smile, as nicely as possible, “Oh, that’s okay! Please be more careful next time.”

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