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“Um, yeah. Creeper.”

“You think he’s creepy?”

“Wouldn’t you?  I thought I was alone and I wasn’t. I turn around in the middle of my stripper routine and he says ‘Don’t scream’. Isn’t that what rapists say?”

She giggles. “Your what routine?”

“I was kinda dancing in my underwear. There was loud music playing in the apartment above this one.” I open one eye. “Don’t tell Pete. I left out the dancing part.”

She laughs. “My lips are sealed. No wonder Latson thinks you’re hot.”

“What?” I act surprised. I won’t confess to reading my brother’s text messages.

“Pete told me,” she says. “He’s not happy about it.”

“Why?  Is Latson bad news?”

“Not at all.” I hear her put something down, then feel her finger smudge her work. “He’s got a little money, he’s eligible, and you can bounce a quarter off his ass.”

I snort. “Have you tried?”

“No.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “You can’t tell me you didn’t like what you saw.”

“I didn’t.” It’s the truth. “I was too worried about being attacked. I threw some socks at him and slammed the door in his face.”

She laughs again. “Really?  I wish I could have seen that. Doors tend to stay open for Latson.”

I bet. Curious, I ask, “Is that his real name?”

“It’s his last name.”

“What’s his first?”

“He only shares that information with a privileged few.” I feel her back away. “All right. Open your eyes.”

I raise my lids and squint at the light. “How does it look?”

“I think it looks great.”

Standing, I face the mirror. The smoky hue surrounding my eyes makes them look twice their size. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“You pick up a thing or two working at a salon.” She grabs the curling iron again. “If you’re thinking about doing something new with your hair –”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “But, I’m a stylist. If you want to take advantage, let me know.”

I pull my straightened dark brown locks over one shoulder. I have a lot of changes going on in my life right now. I think I’ll keep my hair the way it is.

I keep Juliana company in the bathroom while she finishes up. During the process, loud music starts to play above us.

“See?  There.” I point up. “That’s what I was talking about. How do you and Pete put up with the noise?”

“We’re usually at my place. Besides, the owner tends to warn us when he’s having parties.”

I groan. “It’s coming from Latson’s?”

She nods.

“I was dancing to his music earlier?”

She nods again.

That’s not awkward or anything.

Finally, she’s ready to go. We emerge from the bathroom to find my brother sprawled out on the couch.

“It’s about time.” He raises the remote and turns off the T.V. “I was going to leave without you.” He stands as I turn to grab my purse off the table. “Jen. Where is the back of your shirt?”

I look over my shoulder. “It’s right here.”

He lets out a heavy sigh.

“Do you want her to wear a turtleneck?” Juliana asks.

“No. It’s just…”

I set my hands on my hips. “It’s just what?”

“Haven’t you shown enough skin today?”

I scowl. “It wasn’t intentional.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“Can we get out of here?” I ask. “There’s a party going on and I need a drink.”

“I second that.” Juliana loops her arm through mine.

The three of us leave the apartment and take the stairs up one floor. When we get to the top, I see a hallway similar to Pete’s. Three apartment doors span one wall while, opposite of my brother’s floor, the other is wall is empty. I assume this is how Latson gets away with loud parties. No one lives across from him. He must warn his neighbors on either side like he warns Jules and Pete. I can’t imagine they would be happy with a bunch of people over all the time.

Juliana’s arm remains entwined with mine and I let her pull me toward the door that’s propped open. When we step over the threshold, my jaw drops. I expected a replica of Pete’s place. This looks nothing like the apartment my brother rents.

Juliana grabs my attention. “Nice, huh?”

I nod. “Is it always like this?”

“Do you mean crowded?”

“No. Big.”

She smiles. “Latson owns all the apartments on this floor. He knocked down the walls in between to create a suite.”

He renovated an entire floor?  I look around the room. He has enough money to do that but he can’t he afford his own beer pong table?

Speaking of, the game is in full swing to my right. Behind the two teams bouncing ping pong balls back and forth I see the kitchen, which is separated from the living room by a breakfast bar. There must be an island past that, because people have congregated there. In front of me is a living area with a sunken center; you have to walk down two steps to get to the main floor. Couches and chairs have been pushed to the perimeter and a DJ is set up at the far end near the sliding balcony doors. As Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way” morphs into Rihanna’s “Umbrella”, my eyes continue to roam. A fireplace is tucked away in a corner a few feet from a mounted flat screen and then, further to my left, I see a hallway.

“Pete!”

I turn to see a guy clap my brother on his shoulder.

“Hey, Carter.”

“Juullles.” He draws out Juliana’s name, then kisses her on the temple. He pretends to whisper in her ear. “When are you going to dump this loser and go out with me?”

She laughs. “Carter, this is Pete’s sister, Jen. Jen, meet persistent Carter.”

Carter looks at me, intrigued.

“Hi,” I offer.

He flashes a white smile to match his surfer boy looks. “Hello.” He takes a step toward me, then hollers over his shoulder. “Felix!”

I see a guy with tan skin grab his red party cup and leave the side of the beer pong table. He stands beside Carter. “What’s up?”

Carter gestures toward me. “Did you know Pete had a sister?”

Felix looks me over and one side of his mouth quirks up. “No.” He reaches for my hand. “Mucho gusto.”

The tone of his voice makes me blush. Is he really Spanish or is he pretending?  Lucky for me I remember details – and Ms. Ciccone’s high school class.

“El gusto es mio,” I say and bat my eyelashes.   There’s no harm in having a little fun.

Felix looks impressed. Still holding my hand, he steps closer. “Quiero hacer el amor contigo.”

I burst out laughing. “Maybe another time.”

“Okay!”  Pete puts both his hands on my shoulders and steers me away from his friends. He pushes me toward the kitchen while telling them, “That’s enough.”

“Hey!” I pout.

“We’ve been here two minutes,” he grumbles.

Pete lets go of my shoulders when we make it into the kitchen. As he reaches for a cup, I ask, “Do your friends always ask random girls to make love?”

“Just Felix,” he answers. “And, yes, that line has worked way too many times.”

Pete gives me the cup in his hands, then passes one to Jules. He gestures toward the counter. “Pick your poison.”

I walk over to scan the selections. Every type of liquor is here, from high-end to low-brow. Some bottles are unopened and brand new, while others are half-full or near empty. I decide to make a Kamikaze, since a bottle of Grey Goose is right in front of me. I eyeball two shots of vodka, add the triple sec and the lime juice, then take a drink.

So. Good.

Juliana tugs my arm. “We have to dance!”

I look at her over the edge of my cup. “We do?”

She nods. “Listen.”

I take another drink. The song is “Kiss” by Prince. I agree. “We so have to dance.”

We leave my brother in the kitchen and head to the makeshift dance floor. Once my feet hit the carpet I’m reminded that my shoes are too small. I can feel the fabric under my toes because they hang off the end. Regardless, I toss my purse on a nearby couch and follow Jules to stand among the other girls dancing. We sing the lyrics in our high-pitched Prince voices, stand back to back and rub up against one another, then turn around to drink and dance at the same time. When the song ends, my Kamikaze is gone.