Stubborn

So here we go again
The same fight we're always in
I don't care so why pretend
Wake me when your lecture ends

I gave myself a final look in the full length mirror occupying mine and Emma’s door. Dozens of glittering, sequin circles shone back at me as I shifted slightly from one leg to the other, testing of the feeling of Emma’s skinny jeans. It was obvious I had never been to a club before – I didn’t even own my own club-appropriate clothes. The shirt was mine (something I’d had since I was fifteen for a party), but the jeans, the shoes, and even the elaborately curled and pinned up hair was all thanks to Emma.

I curled my toes in the black flats, trying to mould them to my feet. If I knew Emma well (and I did) then there was no doubt she’d be dragging me out to dance with her when Aaron wasn’t in the mood. Now, I’d like to say that the foreign clothes were the only thing making me nervous about tonight, but I’d be lying. There was one more thing that had been on my mind since the hockey game; Jordan’s out-of-the-blue invitation. Was this some sort of ruse to make me look like an idiot in a habitat I obviously wasn’t going to be comfortable in? Was this just another way he found to try and brake me? After our first encounter, then the bookstore, then the bar, I would have never thought about inviting him anywhere. But there he goes, playing some Jedi mind tricks to confuse me. Whoever said women are confusing was seriously mistaken.

“You ready?” Emma asked as she slipped on one high heel, adding about an extra inch to her already immense height. Her other hand was playing with the end of her long earring, twisting and turning it to make sure it didn’t tangle in her hair.

I slid my hands into the back pockets of the jeans. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied and Emma smiled at me. A club virgin is what she referred to me as, as if having tagging along with her and Aaron wasn’t already pathetic enough. Finally slipping on her shoe and untangling her earring, Emma gave a quick look in the mirror, ruffled her hair and ran a finger over her lips, dulling some of the colour. It was like a routine for her; shoes, earrings, hair, lips. She then grabbed her purse and I followed suit, swinging the black handbag over my left shoulder and walking out of our dorm room.

~

Music pounded against the walls of the venue on the corner of the busy street. It reverberated through the concrete of the sidewalk, beating alongside my heart. It attracted interested stares from passersby. And – most importantly – it made me want to turn around and run. It was like that scene in every action movie where the protagonist knows they are venturing into unknown territory – perhaps their ultimate downfall. Even from a block away I knew I didn’t belong; could feel it under my skin as I moved in Emma’s jeans and shoes.

Walking into the place wasn’t much better. Strobe lights flashed fast enough to give me an epileptic fit, bodies bumped into me from my sides, and the thick smell of alcohol was present everywhere. Skin also seemed to be the ‘it’ fashion item this season because there wasn’t a second where I didn’t see a girl’s upper thighs, breasts, or back. What happened to leaving at least a little to the imagination? Oh, right, this was reality, not one of my novels. There was no storyline, or interesting characters, or even a larger-than-life romance. There was just sex. Sex and alcohol.

Emma had her arm tightly around mine as she followed Aaron through the crowd of people. We looked like a kindergarten field trip line. I would continuously be hit into by someone, only to be then engaged in a bump n’ grind dance by said person. This is what Emma brought me too? This is what appealed to Jordan? The setting changed from green, to yellow, to red, then blue; everyone’s hair being highlighted in the process. Could somebody die from claustrophobia?

Aaron stooped by the bar, ending our line, and began talking to who I thought was Max. I couldn’t be quite sure with the array of colours blinding me every few seconds. After walking closer (Emma by my side) I realized that it was, in fact Max. A few of the other guys were standing with him; some conversing amongst each other and some with sparsely dressed women. That was expected, I guess. What else do you go to a club for if not to interact with the opposite sex? Then again, I was pretty sure Emma had brought me there just to torture me; her own, sick form of pleasure. After a few minutes of awkwardly standing next to my friends as we strained our ears over the blaring music to hear what the guys were saying, Emma managed to drag Aaron out onto the dance floor with her, leaving me all alone.

It’s not that I’m not a social person – I am. But in the current situation, it was kind of hard to start up a conversation about how uncomfortable I was just standing in this club with a row of NHL superstars next to me. Aaron might have a lot in common with them, but at this particular moment, I didn’t.

I felt a hand being placed on my shoulder and wondered what other gyrating person I was going to have to fight off. Turning to my right, I saw Max standing right beside me, his hand on my shoulder and a slightly concerned look on his handsomely rugged features. “Are you okay?” I smiled at his slight accent. “You look sick.”

I chuckled, though he probably didn’t hear it. “I’m not sick,” I replied, moving my head towards his ear so he could hear me. “Just a little uncomfortable.”

He pulled away from me and smiled broadly as he stared down at the clothes and hair that weren’t mine. “You’re not a club person either?”

I shook my head.

He smiled again. “Me neither,” he said with a shrug. “I mean – they’re okay sometimes, but too loud.” I chuckled again. “I can’t hear myself think in here.”

“So why do you come?” I asked, wondering if maybe he could give me some tips on surviving a place like this. If he could do it, then surely I could too. Then again, I only had Emma in my way, not an entire team of testosterone-filled hockey players.

He shrugged again. “I like the drinks.” He raised his hand to show me the glass of amber liquid he was holding. “And the company’s never bad. You meet new people and hang out with friends.” I nodded in agreement. “But it’s mostly the guys without girlfriends that drag me along; like Tanger and Staalsy.” I nodded again, this time in understanding. So it wasn’t just me Jordan liked to annoy. Good to know. “Speak of the Devil,” he said, leaning back against the ledge of the bar. I turned around and noticed Jordan walking towards us with two glasses in his hands; his light hair glowing different colours under the strobe lights.

He stopped right next to me, towering over me menacingly in such a crowded space as our fronts unavoidably touched. “Now I definitely didn’t think you’d come here.” His hands were kept in front of him as the drinks swished from within the clear glass.

I leaned back against the bar, mimicking Max’s nonchalance, and shrugged. “I’ve just decided to start proving you wrong,” I replied. From the corner of my eye, I noticed his pink lips go up in a smirk. Max was no longer beside me and the overwhelming feeling of discomfort enveloped me again. It was easy talking to him; it almost made me forget where I was. “Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren’t you?” I nodded to the glasses in his hands and he looked at them for a second before meeting my gaze again.

“I got this for someone, but I can’t find them now.” His body bumped into mine again as someone shoved him from behind. He raised the glasses up and away from me as the liquid crashed against the sides in giant waves of amber. “You can have it.” He handed me one with a smile.

I shook my head. “That’s alright. I prefer drinking things I know the origin of.” My eyes wandered out onto the dance floor where Emma and Aaron moved against each other. On the other side of the giant room was an identical bar to the one Jordan and I were standing at. A line of people stood there, bobbing their heads to the music and taking sips of their drinks.

Jordan laughed, almost mockingly. “Relax,” he said, moving the drink towards me again. “I didn’t do anything to it.” I watched as he took a sip from the other glass. “I save that for girl’s I wanna get into my bed.” He flashed a cheesy smile and shoved the glass towards me again until his hands were almost on my chest. I took it with no intention of actually drinking it and rolled my eyes at him.

There was a silence between us where I stared out at the dance floor at Emma and Aaron, hoping they would get tired and come back, and where Jordan remained beside me. Didn’t he have some girls to ‘creep’ on, or whatever term the cast of Jersey Shore used? It was different standing there with Jordan than it was with Max. With Max I felt calm, almost understood at not really enjoying my ears bleeding and my feet aching from the lack of chairs. With Jordan I felt almost judged, as though I just shouldn’t be there. But, I wouldn’t let him know that.

Suddenly, I felt a nudge on my arm, almost spilling the still full drink. I looked at Jordan, prepared to ask him what his problem was when I noticed his gaze focused on something at the opposite side of the room. I followed his gaze, but didn’t see anything passed the dancing people and haze created by sweat and mingled breaths. “That guys been looking at you the whole time?” he said.

I scoffed, still not seeing who he was talking about. “How do you know that?”

Jordan sighed. “I’m a guy. I know when another guy is checking out a girl.” I looked up at him, his blue eyes vivid even under the changing lights, and shook my head hopelessly. He kept his eyes focused at the opposite side then nudged me to look too. I turned my head and finally noticed who he was talking about. A brown haired man who may have been young or old; I couldn’t tell. It was bad enough having Jordan point out what was flawed with me and my femininity; I didn’t need him showing me something that I was completely oblivious to.

“How do you know he’s looking at me?” I retorted slyly. “From what I hear, you’re a pretty eligible bachelor in The Burgh.” I folded my arms over my chest in triumph.

He let out another sigh. “See, this is what I’m talking about. Girls are too reserved.” He took a sip from his drink. I looked down at mine, still untouched. “They need to just let go sometimes.” I didn’t know being a hockey player also gave you a degree in psychology.

I turned to him slightly, not prepared to let this go so easily. “So, you’re saying I should just give into this guy? Let him have his way with me?”

Jordan tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. He knew that I knew what he was talking about. “No,” he replied aggressively, “I’m just saying you should go dance with him and get to know him a bit.” I looked out across the dance floor at the brown-haired man who gave me an obvious smile. Almost mechanically, I brought the drink Jordan had given me up to my lips and took a big gulp. This was another situation where I was determined to prove him wrong. “It’s not going to kill you.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said, handing him the now half empty cup and moving towards the dance floor. It was hard making it through the sweating bodies, but the man met me half way. Once we were close enough, I realized he wasn’t that much older than I was; maybe twenty-three. Through the loud music he told me his name (Trevor) then asked me to dance. I looked over my shoulder at Jordan standing there in his white button-down shirt and grey pants. One hand was in his pocket and the other raised his glass up at me as though giving a toast. Jerk. I quickly agreed to a dance and pulled Trevor along to the center of the dance floor where I would be losing my club virginity for good.

~

Jordan was in the exact same place when I came back; his hand still in his pocket and his tall body in the same casual position against the bar, as though waiting to be sculpted. It angered me just looking at him so placid in a place so chaotic. In his free hand was now a different drink and he moved it up to his lips almost rhythmically. I was surprised he wasn’t off somewhere dancing with someone himself. Isn’t that what he came here for after all? To meet a girl? Once he saw me pushing my way through the crowd he straightened up and raised his eyebrows in question.

“There, I did it,” I said once I reached him. At this point, Emma and Aaron were nowhere to be seen. Great. “Are you happy now?”

He shrugged, leaning down to move his mouth to my ear. “A little.” I rolled my eyes. “And how did it go?”

I ran my tongue over my lips, looking back at Trevor who smiled at me from the other end of the room. Should I tell Jordan the truth and risk him saying ‘I told you so’, or should I just deny, deny, deny? Reluctantly, I said, “It was fun.” Jordan smiled a knowing smile and I pursed my lips. Though he didn’t say ‘I told you so’, I knew he was thinking it. The cocky bastard. He took a confident sip of his drink and leaned back against the bar, looking at a pair of girls as they walked passed us. I watched him, and then let out a disgusted grunt. “But this isn’t fair,” I continued. He tore his gaze away from the girls who were waving at him, and looked at me. “It’s like you’re trying to make a world full of guys.”

“And what a world that would be,” he said as though in reverie.

“We’ve lived through that world up until the end of the twentieth century,” I said. “It hasn’t worked out too great.” Jordan just took another sip of his drink, refusing to reply. Women have basically been left to pick up the pieces of a world worn down by men. “If I have to let go of my role, then so do you.” I poked him in the shoulder, feeling his muscles ripple under my touch as he swayed to the side.

He looked down at me and cocked an eyebrow; his lips kept together in a firm line. “What do you mean?” he asked, unsure.

I moved next to him, leaning back against the bar similar to the way he was, and scanned the scene. “I mean, you can’t just go with any girl that throws herself at you.” I looked up at his face to see if he understood what I was saying. He licked his lips, looking out at the crowd, and then slowly let his eyes meet mine. “I don’t care how big-breasted or long-legged she is.” His face almost looked pained as I said this. “Women are selective, just liked guys have no inhibitions...according to you, that is.” I smirked.

“You’re killing me here,” he moaned, looking out that the flashes of skin here and there moving on the dance floor. My smile broadened. The entire time I had known Jordan Staal he had been trying to turn me into him. I was prepared to take on the challenge only if he was. Maybe with this little role reversal he would understand why girls are the way they are.

“So,” I continued, as though I hadn’t heard his little protest. “You can’t take home any girls tonight.” I was looking out at the dance floor, enjoying that fact that I didn’t have to be out there, sweating with the rest of them. From the corner of my eye I could see Jordan looking down at me. “Most of the time, girls don’t leave clubs or bars with anyone but their friends.”

I looked up at him to see that glass at his lips once again. “Is that all, Sergeant?” he asked and I smiled. He was actually going to go through with this. This was definitely going to be fun.

“And no hi-fiving your buddies when a hot girl you were talking to walks away,” I said. “Feel free to giggle and shriek with excitement, though.” He looked down at me and flashed a broad smile. “Oh! And no mid-air hip thrusts suggesting you are going to ‘tap that’ when she’s not looking.”

Jordan ruffled his hair with a smile still on his lips. “These are a lot of rules from someone so small.”

I pursed my lips. “I’m not small. You’re just a giant.” He let out a laugh. “So, you’re actually going to go through with this?” I asked, somewhat disbelievingly.

“Only if you do,” he said, looking down at me.

“What? Act like a guy?”

He nodded. “Basically, do the opposite of everything you just forbade me to do.”

I pondered this for a moment. Was I really willing to change who I was for this challenge, just to prove a guy I barely knew wrong? Almost every sign told me that this was a bad idea, but I could deny the overwhelming feeling that this would all be – dare I say it? – fun. “Okay.”

He smiled deviously, making the dent in his chin more prominent in the dim lighting.