Page 111 of Summoned
I sigh and sip the last of my cocktail. Ice cubes rattle as I set the glass on the bar. “You’re already dancing weird.”
She just winks and keeps going,her sway somewhere between a folk dance and poorly learned hip-hop. I stand, smooth out the hem of my dress, and follow her. The bass vibrates through my chest, nudging me forward.
Slowly, I fall into a rhythm. Daria continues her silly moves, spinning in circles, bouncing on her toes, waving her arms around as if she’s calling down the rain. I’m just about to tell her I’m heading back to my seat when a stranger walks onto the dance floor.
He joins Daria and begins dancing exactly like her—same odd moves, same flailing arms. He’s tall, with dark hair and a little stubble. His eyes sparkle with mischief as he spins in perfect sync with Daria. He even claps on beat, as if I didn’t already have enough reasons to turn bright red.
“Look at him!” Daria exclaims. “I thought I was the only crazy one!”
He grins widely and keeps going.
When the song shifts into a new tempo, more people gather around us. The air thickens with sweat, perfume, vape smoke, and alcohol. Daria and the stranger perform another strange move—lifting their arms to the sides as they spin—which makes me laugh. Releasing my inhibitions, I join in and sway to my own groove.
For the first time in years, I’m dancing in the middle of a crowd, soaking up its energy. Arms swinging freely, head tilted back, feet planted firmly in sneakers. For these few moments, I cease to belong to the past, to desperation, to the curse I carry inside me. It’s just me and the music.
Daria laughs, and I mirror her joy without thinking. The burden I’ve carried for weeks slides off, inch by inch, with each step. I’m not focused on surviving,I’m simply dancing as if no one’s watching.
And for a moment, that’s enough. The rhythm carries me, softening the darkness in my chest, and I almost believe I’m free. Then I spin around, following Daria, and my eyes land on the VIP section. The shadowed wall. The very spot where I first saw Gaetano.
The music keeps playing, but something deep within me shuts down. I scan the darkened corners, searching for any sign of someone lurking in the shadows…
I can’t believe that, after everything, a part of me still longs to see him! The realization sends a flash of intense anger through me—at my own weakness.
The desire to dance evaporates, and I slip back into my seat. My empty glass waits on the bar like a quiet reproach. I raise a hand to get the bartender’s attention, but he’s busy shaking cocktails at the other end and doesn’t even look my way. Of course not.
I lower my gaze down the bar and—
Branimir’s sitting a few seats away, sipping a beer and chatting with another guy.
I never responded to his last messages.
For a moment, I just stand there, unsure of what to do. Should I pretend I didn’t see him, or walk right up and say something? I’m not even sure I want to show myself in this state: despondent, raw, stripped down.
Branimir…he’s not part of my social circle. He never judged me, always listened without trying to correct or advise me. Didn’t try to dominate me.
I never really had the chance to get to know him, but right now, he feels like a lifeline in a world that’s falling apart around me. Or maybe it’s just guilt eating at me, knowing he almost ended up in the hospital after our last encounter, even though he was the one who felt guilty about his car.
I take a step toward him.
He’s turned away from me and doesn’t see me coming.
“Hey,” I say, loud enough to be heard. He glances over his shoulder, hisfocussweeping over me and dismissing me quickly. My mouth opens in surprise. “Branimir!”
His shoulders twitch as if my shout startled him. He spins around fully this time, eyes widening, moving his gaze from my face to my dress and then back to my face. “Nicole! Shit, I didn’t recognize you…”
Unease flickers across his expression. I smile, leaving the ball in his court.
He nods toward the man next to him—blond, lean, with pleasant features. “This is Sava, a friend.” Sava lifts a hand in greeting. “And this is Nicole. We…” Branimir hesitates, his eyes darting from me to Sava, then back again.
“We’re friends.” I wink and turn to Sava. “Hope I’m not intruding.”
Sava chuckles. “Not at all. Want to join us?”
“If I’m not being a nuisance…” I reply, feigning concern.
Branimir is already moving the chairs to create space. I glance over my shoulder. Daria is fully immersed on the dance floor. She’ll be fine without me.
I slide into the seat between them. Branimir gets me another cocktail, and conversation flows. Sava, who’s a cardiologist, discusses his patients, Branimir shares details about a recent case at work, and we talk about a few gossip items from reality TV. The alcohol warms me, relaxing me.
