FicWad

We ended up saying yes. How could you not? William could get into trouble for a minor he employed getting involved with one of his 21-year-old friends.

I hummed a sad tune as I entered my apartment (alone). Pete was heading back to the hotel room he was sharing with Patrick, Andy, and Joe. I ran into the living room and flopped onto the couch dejectedly.

Scanning the room, I found the giant clock reading "4:19 PM" and shut my eyes, sighing. I had to be at Generation Mod at seven, so I had to leave here at six thirty to get there by foot in time.

I got up and went into the kitchen, looking around for something. Upon finding it, I clutched Pete's letter in my fist and ripped it into a million pieces. What would hurt is knowing that it could never be real.

I shut the trash can and shuffled over to my bedroom, checking out myself in the mirror. Mascara was tearing down the side of my pale face from when I'd bawled my eyes out on the ride back with Pete. We hadn't spoken. I don't think he'd cried, but I definitely had. The only words spoken after William had let us leave was "Thanks for the ride," (me) "You're welcome, I'll see you tonight?" (Pete) and "Yeah, bye." (me.)

I stripped and went into the bathroom again. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I let my hair down, combing through it and overthinking.

Why did I feel like I had to give up so easily? I could have fought with William about the situation. Not physically fight, but verbally. But would it have been worth it? Probably not, seeing as it had been, what, maybe ten hours that I'd actually spent with Pete? Did I even like him enough to make it serious, to risk the jailing of three people, including myself? No.

So now I just had to figure out how to let myself go with this.

But how?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Seven o'clock on the dot, I walked into Generation Mod, feeling brand new. I was decked out in my outfit, my hair was blown stick straight, and the eyeliner was wonderful once again. I flip flopped over to the bar and took my seat behind the counter, taking out my cell phone and checking it. No missed calls.

"Good evening, darling!" William's voice echoed across the empty club as he entered through the backdoor, Pete, Patrick, Andy, and Joe at his heels; Pete looking nervous; Patrick looking amused; Andy looking excited; and Joe looking...well, wasted already.

"Hey William," I said, not as enthusiastic as he'd been with his entrance, but not down-in-the-dumps-ish. "What's up guys?"

Pete avoided eye contact with me and excused himself to the mens' room. William made up an excuse about having to check his hair and followed him. Which left me with the other three.

"What's shakin', baby?" Joe said jokingly and kissed my cheek. It tingled where his lips had left it, and I laughed. "Nothing, hot pants." Patrick and Andy just laughed at the exchange of conversation.

"Well, c'mon, get me a drink!" Joe said. As I turned around, he slapped my ass to Andy's laugh. "And get yourself one too, you kind of look like you need to let go."

Did I ever.

"Hey, wait, Joe," I said with a laugh, "you're kind of sixteen. How did I not know that?"

He stared at me. "I don't know?...nobody told you, was my guess."

Patrick clocked him around the head. "Shut up, Joe, before she cuts off your alcohol. And we all kind of know you need it."

I laughed. "That's depressing, Patrick."

"You know what else is depressing?" Joe cut in.

"What, Joe?" I asked him while checking the clock (7:14).

"That you gave Andy and Pete booty dances last night, and they are both older than you to the point of it being illegal" (that hurt) "but you didn't give me and Patrick one, and we are even younger than you."

"By one year," Patrick said.

I laughed. "What, do you want one too? Becuase I technically don't work until eight. And it's only 7:15. So this means that I'd have to be off-duty to serve you."

Joe and Patrick stuck out puppy eyes.

"I'll see what I can do.../after/ eight, sex cravers. What, do none of you have girls?" I asked.

Andy laughed. "Nah. We're all pretty much single."

"Then why don't you mingle? It's a club, for crying out loud. There are girls here that would pay to be yours. Did you know women outnumber men on the planet? It's basically impossible for a guy to go without a girl, whereas it's okay if girls don't have guys."

Joe sniggered. "So even an ugly guy like Andy has a chance?" he said with a laugh, high-fiving Patrick while Andy rolled his eyes and slid into a barstool.

"Do you know how many sixteen year old girls are here, Joe? None. But do you know how many twenty year olds there are?"

"No, but I'm guessing you'll tell him," Patrick laughed.

Andy rolled his eyes again. "This is a club. No sixteen year old girls can get in without a fake I.D. or whatever new methods they've sunk to."

"So? Have you heard the phrase 'girls like younger men'?"

"No, because it's not true," Pete said as he approached the bar. My throat froze as he looked at me. The silence was broken as he smiled and sat next to Andy.

Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.