Blindness (30 page)

“You just don’t look very comfortable, that’s
all. But we’re going to Mancini’s and then that new club, Six, so
you should fit right in,” he says, turning back away from me to
talk to the Sumners who have now made their way out to the driveway
as well.

My stomach sinks. I start to pull my jacket
around me tighter, biting my lip to keep it from quivering and to
stop the cry I feel on the verge. I feel so stupid for thinking I
could buy some clothes and become this different person. I look up
and see Kyla’s long legs swaying with her walk toward me, and I
feel even smaller. I don’t have a walk—I’m lucky to have survived
the sprint from the store to the car.

Everyone’s getting in their cars, divvying up
who’s driving whom. The Sumners decide to come with us, and I move
to the passenger side so Trevor can drive. I’m standing there,
holding my door, waiting to get in, while I watch Gabe and Jessie
get in their car to follow Cody in his truck. He’s shutting the
door for Kyla and walking around the front, swinging his keys in
his hand—happy. He hasn’t even noticed me, and I feel foolish.

I reach up for the umbrella to close it while
I get in, and just as I do, I catch Cody’s glance before he gets in
the truck. He actually comes back out, mid-slide, and stands to
face me. The rain is pelting his face and his leather jacket is
taking the abuse, but he’s staring at me, and the way he’s staring
at me completely fills my body with life. I lick my lips lightly,
feeling self-conscience under his attention, and I can actually see
him tremble. That small shake, that tiny quiver in his bravado, was
worth the $200 and Trevor’s judgment. I let my eyes flit a little;
I step into the car and shut the door—Cody taking in every single
move.

I don’t hear a word of the conversation on
the way to the restaurant. And the way the seating is set when we
arrive, I’m not in Cody’s line of sight. I see Kyla stand and walk
around the table for the restroom; she’s taking the long route, and
I know she’s doing it on purpose. She wants everyone to see her.
She makes the same trip on the way back; I can’t help but laugh
when every single male at our table, and those next to us, stops to
drool.

After dinner, we decide to walk the few small
blocks to the club. It’s a full floor at the top of one of the
city’s tallest buildings. Trevor helped with the contract during
the build; one of his first contracts as an intern. He got to know
the owners during the process, and that’s how he got us on the list
for tonight. We’re all filing into a large elevator with several
others, so we keep scooting to the back to make more room.

I have my hand on the rail, bracing myself,
and trying not to hyperventilate from the amount of strange bodies
crowding in around me. My hand stops when it runs into someone
else’s, and I almost pull it away, afraid I’ve touched a stranger,
when I realize it’s Cody. We both look at each other, and he slides
his fingers over mine slowly, leaving a trail of fire along my
skin.

Trevor is standing next to me, completely
engrossed in his conversation with the Sumners, and on my other
side Cody is melting my heart. I wish this elevator ride would
never end, and despite what I am sure is a fire-code violation in
capacity, I’m partly hoping it gets stuck for hours. The doors
open, and Cody’s hand slides from mine. I almost cry out from
missing it.

The club is noisy—not like any place I’ve
ever been. Trevor usually takes me to dinner clubs, establishments
that are more about money and making deals. This place is all about
sex. The lights are flashing in all directions, and the throbbing
music makes it almost impossible not to strut when you walk. Trevor
shakes the hand of someone at the entrance, and we all get led to a
huge booth near the back. Drinks are delivered in seconds, and I
notice Kyla is quick to down two.

Trevor grabs my hand and pulls me to the
corner of the booth to sit next to him; Kevin and his wife slide in
at the other end. They start talking about cases and remodeling
their home in Georgetown and whether or not they’re going to trade
in their BMW for the Lexus. I look at Trevor, and he’s absolutely
rapt in their conversation. This is how it always goes when we go
out with a couple or meet at a club—I sit next to Trevor and smile
and listen to banal conversation about status symbols. And I used
to think I liked it, or at least didn’t mind it. But sitting here
tonight, watching my friends move to the dance floor to feel
careless, worriless—
young—
leaves me feeling trapped.

I’m practically squirming in my seat watching
Kyla move her hands all over Cody. He’s watching her every move.
How could he not? She looks like she does this for a profession,
bending forward and arching her back, sliding her hand from his
inner thigh, and then up over his zipper, almost into the front of
his pants. He’s biting his lip looking at her.

I excuse myself to go to the restroom, and
while I’m in there I make a silent pledge to try. When I come back
to the table, I ask Trevor to dance with me, but he just looks at
me strangely, and then peers out to the dance floor.

“It’s a little crowded. You know
that
kind of dancing isn’t really my thing. I’ll take you out next week,
though, to
our
place,” he says, flashing me that smile that
means everything is final. So I sit back down at the booth and
pout.

I sip at my Jack and Coke, the sound of
Trevor’s conversation almost melding into a hum in my ears, and I
search again for Cody. I see Gabe and Jessie, and they seem so
happy, so in love, and it makes my heart ache I’m so jealous. I
finally spot Cody, and he’s still dancing with Kyla, but they
aren’t touching for the moment. She’s busy putting on a show for
everyone else. Cody’s watching, too, but for the first time
tonight, he’s reachable.

I’m on my feet before I can talk myself out
of it. “I’m just going to dance for a song or two, I’ll be right
back,” I say over my shoulder to Trevor, who hardly turns to
acknowledge me, just waving me off.

Jessie is the closest to me, so I slide in
next to her first. I’ve never really danced much, so I feel awkward
swaying to the music. I try to copy her moves, keep it simple, and
when I finally feel like I’m not standing out, I spin around to her
other side and get closer to Cody. Jessie smiles crookedly at me,
and winks before she gives me a tiny shove, forcing me to bump into
him. I flash my wide eyes at her and mouth her name, but quickly
smile, thankful that she’s so bold.

“Hey,” I say, holding my hands over my head
and closing my eyes while I spin around, mimicking Jessie’s every
move. When I turn back to face Cody, he’s stopped and completely
staring at me. I lick my lips and let my eyes fall hooded, blinking
slowly. Cody’s smile starts to stretch out along his face, and his
eyes are intense. I feel like I just might have him when Kyla
slides in between us and pulls his face to hers for a kiss.

It’s not just any kiss. It’s slow, and she’s
biting at his lip and licking her tongue along his jawline
sensually. It’s a public declaration—she might as well be screwing
him right here on the dance floor. She’s grabbing at his hands next
and forcing them to touch her, although when his fingers meet her
breasts, he’s more than willing to take over, and soon one of his
hands is sliding down her side and lifting her thigh, digging into
her ass.

I’m no longer able to move. I feel like I’ve
been slapped in the face, but it’s actually worse—I’m being totally
ignored. There’s no way I can compete with her, and I feel foolish
as I look down at my gawky long legs that are propped atop
four-inches of silly heels, my skirt barely long enough to cover my
underwear, my shirt showing off my barely-there breasts. I don’t
know what I was thinking.

When Cody’s looking away, I slide back
through the crowd and make my way to the restroom again. I stand at
the sink for minutes, contemplating just running water over my face
and washing away the heavy shadow and blush. I feel like a kid
playing dress-up. I don’t know how to be sexy, at least not for
anyone other than Trevor. And that’s because he likes things
simple, plain. Boring.

That’s me. I’m
boring.

I’m almost laughing at myself when I see Kyla
walk in behind me. I pretend to be washing my hands, and then turn
the water off so I can get a towel and leave.

“That was some show out there,” she says,
slowly rounding her lips with her lipstick, puckering, and touching
up the corners with her long nails.

“I’m sorry?” I say, rather appalled that
she’s bragging about her sex appeal in front of me.

“You. You’re funny. You’ve never been in a
place like this before, have you?” she says, facing me now and
smiling like the popular girl in grade school about to trick
you.

“Not really,” I admit. “Trevor and I, we go
to a lot of business dinners and things like that.”

I’m completely intimidated by her, and I keep
flashing to the door, hoping Jessie will come through it and save
me. My heartbeat is in my neck, and my stomach feels sick, like I’m
racing through a roller coaster. And she’s just smirking at me. She
leans back on the sink a little, reaching in to pull her breasts up
even higher in her bra before settling her gaze back on me.

“Yeah, you and Trevor are
so good
together; just like me and Cody. I’ve missed him,” she says,
dragging her teeth along the top of her lip before letting a tiny
breath escape, “and I can tell he’s missed me.”

She moves from the sink and slowly walks past
me to the door, grabbing the handle and then stopping. “If you
want, though, I can show you how to really dance sometime. My mom
was a dancer. I’m guessing yours wasn’t,” she smiles with a little
giggle before turning, and the door closes behind her.

I turn back to the mirror and can’t help the
tears that are falling from my face. I throw my purse at my
reflection, and the contents fly all over the counter and the
floor. No, my mom wasn’t a dancer. My mom was barely aware that I
existed, and when she was aware, she spent her time drugging
herself to the point of once again forgetting—all the way up until
she got rid of me altogether.

I grab a fistful of napkins and start to run
them under the hot water, rubbing the make-up from my skin and
scrubbing hard, leaving my face red. My hair is wet by the time I’m
done, but my pulse is still speeding up. I don’t want to be here
any more, and I don’t want to go back out there, so I send Trevor a
text.

I’m really ill, some stomach bug. Just
called a cab. Don’t worry, will see you at home.

I poke my head from the bathroom door,
scanning the immediate area, and feel good that no one I know will
notice me. I’m down the hall and to the elevator in seconds, and I
can’t stop pounding on the button—like that’s going to make the
doors open any faster. When they do, I rush inside, but then a hand
slides into the door to stop them from closing.

“Are you seriously running?” Jessie says.

I shrug my shoulders. “I just…I don’t belong
here. I can’t compete with
that,”
I say, gesturing to the
dance floor.

“I’m telling him you’re leaving,” she says,
turning and letting the elevator doors close.

I see her walk away, and I yell, “Please
don’t,” but I’m sure it’s too late.

When the doors open at the ground floor, I
bolt from them and make my way to the street. I start down the
block toward the restaurant. It’s raining even harder, and I left
my umbrella in the car. I look like a stray cat that no one wants.
I need a cab, but I don’t want to stand here and wait for one—he’ll
find me. So I just keep walking. I pass the restaurant and continue
on, the lights getting less and less as I enter the more
residential part of the city.

“Charlie, what are you doing? Get in my
truck,” Cody yells, his voice competing with the pounding sounds of
the rain. I can’t bring myself to face him, so I just hold up a
hand and wave.

“I’m fine, it’s okay. Just going to get a
cab,” I say, not wanting him to see my red face, my anger, and how
much I let Kyla get to me.

“Stop it, Charlie. I’ll take you home. It’s
freezing out here, and you’re all wet…just get in the truck,” he
says, his voice growing a little more frustrated.

“No!” I yell, picking up a step in my walk
and turning around a corner. I hear his truck brake, and I hear his
door slam shut behind him.

“Damn it, Charlie…get in the goddamned
truck!” He’s standing at the rear of his truck when I turn around,
his black button-down soaked through instantly, and his hair flat
in his face. His jeans are suctioned to his legs from the heavy
downpour. I can’t even imagine what I look like, and I can’t bear
the thought of him getting close enough to see. So I start to
run.

“Fuck this,” he says, and I hear his steps
gaining ground on me. I’m not very fast to begin with, but in
heels, I’m maybe the speed of a camel. Cody’s arm is around my
midsection in seconds, and I try to free myself, reaching down for
my shoes to pull them from my feet so I can push away from him. But
he has a firm grasp, reaching around with his other arm and locking
them both together.

“Damn it! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
he’s yelling, trying to hold my arms down and keep me in place. I
reach up with my hand, shoes still in it, and I hit him in the
face, and he backs away immediately. “Fuck! That really fucking
hurt! What the hell?!”

“I’m sorry. I…” I drop my shoes and cover my
mouth. I start crying as soon as I look at him. He’s holding his
hand over his eye and his shirt is pulled from his jeans, torn a
little from where I pulled on it.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” he says, rubbing the
side of his face a little more. “But do you want to tell me what
the hell you’re doing?”