The music in the dance club nearly deafened Marianna, making her flinch and hesitate to enter. She was beginning to question her decision to come here tonight; she’d thought it would be fun, trying something new like this “safe” hotspot for teenagers, but now it was beginning to look like a bad idea.
Lights of various colours flashed throughout the room as couples danced with each other. The song (one Marianna didn’t recognize off the top of her head) was grating on her eardrums, seeming like it consisted of too loud music and a singer that screamed into the mic more than anything. Marianna cast a hesitant look at the dancers, wondering if some of them might be drunk. This club had a “no alcohol” policy, although it didn’t seem well-enforced. It wouldn’t stop people from tossing back a few drinks before coming here.
In fact, Marianna could see a few people drinking as they danced, drinks sloshing onto the floor. So much for discretion.
Someone abruptly informed Marianna she had been lingering in the doorway too long; they shoved past her, launching her inside the club.
“Oh, sorry,” Marianna stuttered, blushing with embarrassment.
Marianna made her way forward, finding herself stumbling as she knocked into people. The flashing lights and dancing people made it difficult to make out much, but from what she could see, the nightclub looked wild. There was a disco ball hanging from the ceiling, spinning around as it reflected flashing lights of green, blue, purple and so on. Up ahead, she saw the DJ’s station: a table of sorts with two large speakers on either side, vibrating with every beat of music. Behind the station, Marinna thought she saw a poster of Elvis hanging on the wall, alongside a few other people she couldn’t place. The DJ himself had shoulder-length hair that swung around wildly with every bounce of his head. Marianna thought it was brown, but in the wild lighting, it was almost impossible to be sure.
Speakers hung in every corner of the room, blasting music as loud as they could. One speaker, by the DJ’s station, had streamers hanging from it, quivering with every blast of music.
If Marianna squinted enough, she could see a door on one end of the room. She assumed it must lead to a restaurant of some sort.
The floor was a bit sticky, she noted. People here definitely didn’t care about health policies.
Despite this, it looked like a fun place. Even if the songs seemed to include too many cuss words.
Murmuring quiet apologies to the people she bumped into, Marianna continued, unsure as to what she planned to do in this over-crowded place, but deciding she would linger for at least a half an hour. It wouldn’t hurt to find out the appeal of this place, she reasoned.
As she edged forward with caution, Marianna caught sight of some people who looked like they could have been in the movie Dirty Dancing. Their dancing was much too… up close, in Marianna’s opinion. Marianna glanced away, feeling uncomfortable. It was because of her embarrassment that she was unprepared for another body to slam into her, causing her to fly into someone else.
“Whoa, hey,” the person said, placing masculine hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “You all right?”
Marianna blinked, bringing her cerulean eyes up to the stranger, and blushed once more. She did that way too often. “Uh, yes,” she shouted in response, trying to be heard over the music. “I’m fine. Thank you.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to take in the boy—or was he a man?—before her in the flashing lights. He was attractive, she supposed. His hair was bizarre: dyed red, blue, purple, pink, and a few other colours she was having difficulty distinguishing in the dark room. The teen wore blood-red contacts that looked more suited for a Halloween costume and was wearing eyebrow piercing. He looked like the exact type of person who could be labelled as the “bad boy” in a television show.
The boy grinned, his white teeth flashing as he released her shoulders. “Good,” he said. He jerked his head to a small group of people behind him. “Wanna dance?”
Peering past the boy, Marianna took in his friends. They looked harmless enough. The one girl was dressed like a Goth, with fishnet leggings and short black dress with long, see-through sleeves and a belt around the waist. The other three in the group wore either jeans and t-shirts or dresses. Marianna turned back to the boy with a small smile.
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Why not? She’d wanted to test her comfort zone tonight.
They spent the next little while dancing so hard that Marianna’s heart slammed against the bars of her ribcage. Sometimes, she would dance with the entire group at once, and other times they’d pair off, mostly during the slow songs.
Although Marianna would admit she was enjoying her time with the group, she wasn’t feeling any spark with the boy with multicoloured hair, whose name, he told her was, Nixon. The same seemed to go with everyone else she had met tonight, though it didn’t stop her from acknowledging someone’s good looks from time to time.
When the third slow song started to play over the speakers, Marianna took a step back and gave Nixon and his group a polite smile.
“I think I need a break now,” she yelled over the music. “But thanks for the dances.”
After shaking some hands and exchanging a goodbye with Nixon (who looked disappointed when she declined his phone number), Marianna walked off, trying to avoid bumping into people as she searched for refreshments. After being jostled around some, a table entered her field of vision, on which sat a large, clear bowl that looked like it contained punch. Sighing with relief, Marianna started to make her way over to the table when her eyes landed on the figure standing next to it.
The girl’s face was a mask of sheer boredom as she stared at nothing, her hand braced on the table. She had a full head of medium length black hair that fell down her back, a slight messy quality to it. She wore a simple long-sleeved black shirt with jeans and black ballet flats––a far cry from the dresses that most of the girls were wearing; including Marianna, who wore a simple blue dress. The girl was also pale. Like, seriously pale. Her skin tone kind of made Marianna think of a vampire.
It occurred to Marianna that it would feel nice to run her fingers through that inky black hair. Would it be tangled? Would Marianna have to be gentle? And those cheekbones. The girl’s complexion reminded Marianna of those marble statues she saw from time to time. She wanted to trace her fingers over those cheekbones, to see if they were as hard as they looked––
Okay, enough of that.
But still, she couldn’t make herself look away. Her heart sped up.
As if the girl sensed she was being watched, she started scanning the crowd impassively, pausing as she spotted Marianna. An expression of mild curiosity replaced her look of boredom, and the pale girl cocked her head to the side, sweeping her gaze up and down Marianna in a way that felt a bit invasive.
Bringing her eyes back up to Marianna’s face—still too far away for Marianna to make out their colour—the no longer bored girl gave her a slight smile, her face becoming more warm and inviting. Marianna unwittingly smiled back, and that was the exact moment that someone bumped into her.
“Sorry!” Marianna cried out, once again fighting the crowd to get to her destination. Maneuvering her way through the dancing bodies, Marianna soon found herself much closer to the refreshments, seeking the raven-haired girl next to the refreshments. Her heart fell when she saw a boy talking to the girl, looking as though he was trying to flirt with her. Her spirits lifted, however, when she saw the look on the girl’s face: a mixture between disinterest and annoyance.
Marianna couldn’t help but watch with interest as the girl started talking. Her mouth moved rapidly, eyes darting up and down the boy in front of her. Within thirty seconds, the boy whipped around and stormed away from the pale girl, looking ticked off. Marianna wondered what she had said to him. Her eyes followed him for a moment before drifting back to the girl.
Marianna discovered that the porcelain girl was once again watching her. The girl gave her another small smile and Marianna wasted no time in approaching her, noting as she got closer that the girl’s eyes were blue. Not a dark, vivid shade of blue, but, like her complexion, pale. Almost like ice.
“Uh, hi,” Marianna greeted when she was standing in front of the girl. Her eyes had a certain all-knowing look to them as they gazed at Marianna.
“Hello,” she said, smiling once more. She had to tilt her head down to look at Marianna, as she was about a head taller than her. Marianna found she liked that.
“Um,” Marianna continued, tucking her hair back. Struck by a sudden boldness, she asked, “Would you like to dance?” Almost as soon as she asked, Marianna felt a pit form in her stomach. Had she asked too soon? Should she have introduced herself first? What if she didn’t like girls that way? Oh crap, she hadn’t thought about that. As Marianna opened her mouth to say… Well, she didn’t know what, the girl interrupted her.
“Yes, I would like that.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Marianna breathed a small sigh of relief. After a moment’s consideration, Marianna held out her hand, and the girl took it in her cool grip, leading her onto the dance floor. Almost immediately, the porcelain girl placed her hands on Marianna’s hips. She waited for Marianna to place her hands on her shoulders before they started to sway with the music.
The loud music inhibited the two girls from having any real conversation, but this didn’t prevent them from having fun. When the slow song ended, a fast-paced one was played—one where the singer sang inhumanly high. Marianna and her dancing partner laughed as they tried to keep up with the tempo, and failed. She laughed, glancing up at her partner time and again. At one point, the raven-haired girl leaned to mutter a quick warning in Marianna’s ear, before grabbing her hand and spinning her around, golden tresses fanning. Once done spinning her, the girl pulled Marianna closer again, causing Marianna to stumble in her high heels, beaming.
She stepped forward, placing her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she leaned close. Marianna’s heart raced as a bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck. A giggle built in her throat, but she suppressed it.
The girl almost seemed to smile. She’d hardly away from Marianna in all the time they spent dancing, her gaze never allowing Marianna’s heart to slow down.
“Where did you learn to dance?” Marianna shouted at her, leaning even closer so she could be heard better. The girl, too, leaned forward so that their foreheads were nearly touching.
“Nowhere,” she said. “I’m improvising.”
“Well, you’re doing a good job,” Marianna said.
A small crease formed between the girl’s eyebrows. The two of them had barely talked since Marianna asked her to dance, and Marianna guessed that she was having difficulty hearing her.
The girl hollered, “Do you want to go outside? We’ll be able to talk properly.”
Marianna took a moment to consider.
“Good idea. But can we get a drink first? I’m parched.”
The girl gave a slight shake of her head. “I wouldn’t. It’s spiked.”
“Oh,” Marianna replied, blinking in bewilderment. “Okay. Let’s go, then.”
The two tried to remain close to each other as they fought their way through the crowd, losing each other twice. When they finally reached the entryway, Marianna couldn’t help but feel relieved. While dancing with the girl—whose name she should learn soon—had been enjoyable, Marianna was now sporting a rather irritating headache and a parched throat. The coat area was, thankfully, its own separate room.
As she located her jean jacket on one of the coat racks, Marianna introduced herself, saying, “I’m Marianna, by the way. Marianna Whitlock.”
When she turned around, the pale girl was already putting on a black jacket. Upon hearing Marianna’s introduction, she glanced up and said, “Alna Holt. Nice to meet you.” She pronounced her name “All-na.” With a faint upturn of her lips, the girl held out her hand. Smiling, Marianna shook it, returning the sentiment.
The girl––Alna—held the door open for Marianna as she stepped outside into the cool air. Stepping out herself, Alna walked a few paces away from the heavy metal door and sat on the cement sidewalk with her back against the grey wall. Marianna soon followed, but not before sparing a thought to her dress, which she hoped wouldn’t get a permanent stain from sitting on the ground.
There was a beat of silence between the two girls, in which Marianna surveyed the sky, trying to come up with a good conversation starter. It was dark out now, an indication that summer was, indeed, over. Scattered across the dark blue sky were some stars, shining boldly through all the artificial light cities generated. Marianna counted six, including one that shone particularly bright. Marianna was sure it had a name, but she couldn’t think of it at the moment. She saw Alna looking at the stars with mild interest, and smiled.
Just when she had decided to ask which school Alna went to, the girl in question spoke up.
“You’re bisexual,” she observed, looking over at her. “Although I’m sure you haven’t told anyone yet. You hesitated before approaching me. This was partly because of the boy that was talking to me. You seem to have accepted your sexuality, but fear certain people finding out. Likely, you wouldn’t have asked me to dance if you recognized anyone inside the club. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re afraid of coming out to your parents.”
Marianna tensed. But of course, Alna was right. Eerily so. Marianna hadn’t told anyone about her interest in both boys and girls, apart from the one girl she’d once gone on a date with and the boyfriend who had dumped her a week after she’d come out to him. That had happened during summer break.
Alna seemed to notice the tension in Marianna’s frame, as she continued, “So, I’m right, then: you haven’t come out yet. Your parents wouldn’t approve of your interest in girls.” She gave Marianna another sidelong look. “But keeping yourself hidden affects you negatively. You’re overly self-conscious, from what I have seen. Although that could also be part of your personality. Maybe a bit of both?” Alna looked Marianna up and down once again. “Yes, that seems plausible. I would assume that it feels suffocating, though, to hide who you are.” She brought her gaze to Marianna’s. “Doesn’t it?” Her eyes bored into Marianna’s, making it impossible for her to look away.
Before Marianna could say anything, Alna continued. “You’re not a malicious person. That much is obvious. You appear to be responsible, as was proven when you chose not to have a drink inside. You obviously like to dress up on occasion and care about your appearance. I would also assume that you care a great deal about what people think about you. This, frankly, is a waste of time.”
After her little outburst, Alna fell silent, peering at Marianna warily out of the corner of her eye. Marianna herself couldn’t think of anything to say. Alna’s assumptions were so accurate that Marianna was almost willing to believe she was a mind reader. Shaking herself, Marianna looked at her with renewed interest. Her breaths came slow and calm, despite everything.
“How did you know I’m bi?” she asked tentatively.
“You were dancing with a boy earlier; I caught a few glimpses of you. And while your being here with me indicates you were not all that interested in him, I saw you admiring his appearance. That, and I am quite certain you are attracted to me.” The smile Alna gave her was knowing, making Marianna’s cheeks heat up. She surveyed the scant stars for a moment, before forcing herself to look at Alna again.
Marianna started to say something, but at that moment, a small group of girls exited the club—judging by the way a few laughed a bit too loudly, Marianna assumed they were drunk—and she fell silent. Once the girls piled into a truck, Marianna voiced her next question: “Am I that obvious?”
“No,” Alna assured her, voice and face softening, kinder. “I’m good at noticing things.”
Marianna stayed quiet for another moment, her mind turning over everything this virtual stranger had observed about her; how close they were to the truth. She couldn’t recall ever meeting a person who could learn all that about her without Marianna telling them––at least, not without getting to know her better. To know Alna could see all that was disconcerting, and yet… intriguing at the same time. She looked over at Alna once more, hoping the red in her cheeks wasn’t too pronounced.
This was all so overwhelming.
And yet Marianna couldn’t deny she was enjoying herself.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Sherlock Holmes?”
For some reason, Alna looked pleased.
“No, although I appreciate the comparison.” She gave Marianna a smile that sent her heart thumping. “I’ve been a fan for a while.”
“Oh,” Marianna said. “Well, I don’t know much about Sherlock Holmes. Only what people tell me.”
“Hmm,” Alna hummed. She appeared to gaze off into the street, saying nothing. After a moment, she turned back to Marianna and asked, “So, did I get it right?” Her eyes pierced into Marianna’s, searching for answers.
“Most of it,” she admitted, lowering her gaze.
Alna’s head tilted, black hair falling over her shoulder. “What did I get wrong?” she asked, sounding curious. She reminded Marianna a bit of a classmate she’d had once, with her bright inquisitive eyes, always asking the teachers question after question. Wanting to learn everything.
“I have told someone about being bi,” Marianna answered. “My boyfriend—or, ex-boyfriend, Cael.” She paused before adding, “He broke up with me about a week later.”
Though this admission dimmed Marianna’s mood a little, she didn’t feel devastated, like she had when Cael first broke it off. She’d moved on in their time apart. That, if nothing else, showed how “serious” their relationship had been.
Alna looked unimpressed. “Well, that was stupid of him,” she commented, and Marianna couldn’t help but smile at her blunt statement.
“Thanks,” Marianna said. Alna gave a dismissive flick of her hand before the two lapsed into silence once more.
Marianna wanted to question Alna some more about her strange talent but remembered that she hadn’t checked the time in a while. Pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed to see that it was almost eleven. Her mom would be here soon to pick her up. Marianna found herself wishing she had driven herself; maybe she could have stayed for a while longer.
“I’m sorry,” Marianna apologized, bracing a hand against the stone wall behind her as she stood up, “but I have to go soon.”
“That’s fine,” Alna assured her, not sounding all that bothered as she, too, stood up. Marianna almost started to wonder if Alna was at all interested in her when she stepped closer, gently touching Marianna’s elbow as she said, “I find this difficult to believe, but I had fun tonight. I wasn’t expecting that. Thanks for proving me wrong.”
“Oh, uh,” Marianna stuttered, the traitorous blood rushing to her face. “You’re welcome.”
She played with the sleeve of her jacket, eyes darting to Alna’s pale lips. Would it be too soon to…
As if reading her mind, Alna took a single step forward, placing a hand on Marianna’s waist. She tilted her head down so that her lips were a mere inch from Marianna’s, cool breath brushing them. Instinctively, Marianna shifted forward, waiting for the other girl’s lips to touch hers, only to feel confused when Alna made no other move. They stayed like that, standing so close together that, if they had been wearing regular indoor clothes, they would have been able to feel each other’s body heat. Finally, after standing like that for a good fifteen seconds, it dawned on Marianna that Alna was waiting for her to make the next move, and wasted no time closing the gap.
The kiss was slow and gentle, unhurried. Marianna closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of Alna’s lips against hers. She pushed herself onto the balls of her feet to deepen the kiss, hands settling onto Alna’s shoulders. She felt Alna’s hand leave her waist before finding its way into her medium length hair, soon joined by the other one.
Marianna herself copied Alna’s actions, grasping the raven tresses, becoming bolder when she felt Alna’s grip tighten in her own hair. Their lips slid easily over each other, thanks to some long-lasting lip gloss Marianna had applied earlier. When Marianna became aware of her need for air, she pulled away from the taller girl to draw in a quick breath before diving in for more. Alna didn’t seem to mind this one bit, as she placed her hands back on Marianna’s waist, and pulled her even closer, if such a thing were even possible.
So absorbed was she in their kiss that Marianna didn’t even react when she heard a car engine. She attempted to press herself closer, feeling Alna’s breath—warm now—brush her lips once more. Marianna moved her hands from Alna’s hair to wrap them around her neck and—
“Marianna?” called a familiar voice. Two sets of blue eyes shot open, turning to look at the owner of the voice.
Oh, crap.