Page 97 of Space Oddities

Poor guy.

“Wait!” I try to stop giggling as I pull myself up between the two front seats. “We forgot our bags. Our phones!” And my letters.

Rose scoffs. “No problem. We may not have phones, but we have money!” She pulls out a fifty from her cleavage, slapping it on the dash. “Go!”

The driver goes. And thankfully cracks the car’s windows so the glitter can escape.

Jackie, drunk enough to have stopped trying to calculate her intoxication level, rips off her veil headband, blond hair shooting off in every direction. “I’m getting married!”

I can’t remember the last time I let myself have this much fun. I’m not just watching. I’m participating. I’minstigating. “And I’m your bridesmaid!” I hug Jackie, the headband in her hand almost blinding me.

“Holt’s going to jizz himself when he sees me in that dress.” Jules snickers, then lowers the window all the way down and leans her head, sweaty from all the dancing we just did, out the window.

“You puke, you pay,” the driver says, taking a right onto NASA Road 1.

Fifteen minutes later we’re at Heartbreakers.

Twenty-Four

Damsel in Distress

Trish

“Trish! You came!”Angela bounds over, arms open, her full breasts swaying under the minimal support of her triangle string top.

We hug, our body glitter melding together.

“You’re on a first-name basis with a hot stripper.” Jules drapes an arm around my shoulders once Angela releases me. “You’re coming up in the world, Shortstack.”

The perky stripper gives Jules the once-over, a grin on her face. “And you brought friends with good taste.” She winks at me. “Even better.”

We’re ushered to a front row table, which I’m surprised is open, as the place seems rather packed for a Thursday night. Until I get a load of the group next to us.

“Sorry, this is the best seat at the moment, but it is next to those guys.” Angela thumbs over her shoulder at the group of rowdy guys behind her. “They aren’t even here for a party, just decided to be drunk assholes tonight, I guess. Wouldn’t be so bad if they didn’t complain while the girls danced or, you know, actually tipped.” She rolls her eyes. “I can move you if you want, but I’m up next, and it would be fun if you could cheer me on.”

“No, this is great!” Jackie bounces in her seat, wide eyes taking in the scene.

Angela claps. “Oh, good. See you in a few.” She walks off, swiveling out of the way when one of the drunk men tries swatting her ass.

A guy hustles over with a notepad. “What can I get you ladies?”

“A dude as a strip club cocktail waitress?” Jules brings both hands up when the waiter gives her a look. “Not that I don’t appreciate the role reversal, I’m just surprised.”

He shrugs. “We’re short staffed. Gotta do what you gotta do.”

The guys next to us bang their hands on the stage, calling the dancer over like a dog. Though the dancer ignores them, our waiter narrows his eyes at the group of men.

“Yo! No banging the stage.”

The men barely glance his way, but at least they stop their slapping and hollering.

He gives us an apologetic look. “No one thought we’d be this busy on a Thursday night.”

We give him our orders, pleased when our shots and drinks come quickly given how busy it is.

The music changes, and Angela struts out on stage in a school girl uniform, the pleats of her overly short skirt flaring up with each step to reveal a red thong. The whole look would be clichéd if she didn’t look so good in it.

“Hot for Teacher” booms over the loudspeakers.

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