SexyBack

Gabby and I find ourselves at a random house party on campus. Now, I'm the first to admit that my sex appeal has been on the fritz since sometime last year. I'm not sure when exactly I lost it, or where it went, but I'm bringing sexy back. Hopefully. If I can find it.

Gabby pulled my hair from the fancy curlers she had put it up in and brushed it into something between fifties pin-curls and a red carpet down-do. I've always been blessed with good hair and rarely felt the need to fuss over it, but goddamn! I'm looking hot.

"Where the hell did you even learn to do this?"

She shrugs. "Not all of us are lucky to be as naturally beautiful as you are." She bops me on the nose with her forefinger once to really bring home the patronization.

"Aw, stop! You're going to make me ruin my makeup," I say, fanning my face like a girly girl that can't take a compliment before we both dissolve into laughter.

I choose to keep my makeup mostly natural, for me, anyway. With my hair and clothing taking a step up for the evening, I don't want to overdo it, especially because I'll surely know some of the people at the party. I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard even though that's exactly what's happening.

Gabby, on the other hand, is known for trying too hard. She's never lost her sex appeal, though. She's always one to dress up for a party and go out in full makeup, so it won't look weird to everyone there. For me, I need to be appealing, without looking like I'm someone completely different than I really am - and to me, those two things don't feel like I can intermesh them.

I throw on a pair of fake eyelashes and pull a mauve lipstick across my lips. There. That looks fine, right? Not too much, but enough. I walk out of the bathroom before padding into Gabriella's bedroom where she's shimmying into a skin-tight black dress.

"How do I look. Is it too much?"

She tilts her head to one side, her dress is only halfway up but she pauses to assess me. "Normally I'd say it's not enough, but you really do have that natural pretty thing the boys around here seem to swoon for. I say we leave it. If they don't respond, we can switch it up next time."

I nod as she pulls her dress up over her full breasts and lacy black strapless bra, before turning to assess herself in the full-sized mirror on her closet door. She runs her palms down her torso, smoothing out the taut fabric before her eyes light with realization. "Oh, I pulled out a dress for you. You should try it. It's on the bed."

I saunter past her, careful to skirt what we've dubbed the "bloodstain" on her carpet. We don't actually know what it is, but it's gross enough that I don't want to touch it. Did I mention our rent is dirt cheap? Because it is.

I pick up a white dress off the top of her white duvet. Since it was white on white I didn't get a good gauge of the dress itself until I held it up in the air. "This is way too dressy, Gabby. I can't wear this to a college party, are you nuts? This thing says Wine and Cheese."

She smiles back at me through the reflection in the mirror, meeting my stare. "Then how about a little less whine from you. Put it on. It's not even very dressy. It's not like it's lacey, it's a kinda crochet. Like that top, the one you wore to the last party."

I sigh, an overly drawn-out sigh just to make sure she knows how annoyed I am with this development, but I finally pull off the romper I was wearing and pull the dress over the top of me. Gabby moves to the side so I can step in front of her mirror. I put my hands on my hips and cant my head to one side.

"Fine. You're right. It's perfect. God dammit."

She lets out a squeak and a clap. "Told ya."

The dress fits me perfectly. It's short enough to be hot, but not dramatically sexy - and although it looks a little lacey at first glance, it's really not. It's almost like the perfect marriage of boho and cocktail. I didn't ever think that would be a sentence I would consider, but here we are.

"I'm wearing my gladiator sandals though. I don't want to dress it up with heels."

She shrugs. "I can accept that."

About fifteen minutes later our Lyft is pulling up in front of a relatively large house in the area. Most of the homes around these parts are small ranch or bungalow-style homes. There are more upscale areas nearby, but this one definitely is still on campus. It's probably about a six-bedroom house on a hill that has a killer view of the valley below it.

I can hear the party before we even make it to the door. They didn't skimp on the sound system. A dance beat is thrumming through the air and I recognize it as Party Rock Anthem before we even knock on the door which sets my nerves alight with anxiety. Here we go.

A girl dressed similarly to me opens the screen door and flashes a welcoming smile before motioning for us to enter. She doesn't ask our names, instead skipping to the important information.

"Some of the guys are playing bartender up there. They're good guys. You'll be safe with your drinks, but there are test strips in the bathrooms if you need them. There's one bathroom upstairs and two downstairs."

I'm surprised by this and I'm sure my shock is visible. I can't even think of something bitchy and sarcastic to say to her. "Thanks."

Gabby and I haul it up the stairs. In my bra, I have twenty pills of ecstasy, and Gabriella has the same in hers. I refused to splurge for the little baggies. That felt a little too "drug-dealer" for my tastes. Travis' friend that sold us the pills told me to ask for thirty-five a piece and sold them to me for twenty a piece. Unfortunately, I had to just take his word for it on pricing because I don't really know what I'm doing. I don't know anything about drugs, really. Travis told me it was a good deal, but he was high as a kite the whole time, so I'm not sure how good his judgment is.

"Oh hey! Gabby! And Vale? I don't think you've ever come to one of my parties, Vale."

The man in question is David. He's in the music program along with Gabby and I. We've always been on friendly terms. We even jammed a couple of times. He's a hell of a drummer and rocks the double bass drums, which is something that really gets my motor running. It's impressive to watch. "I didn't know you even had parties, Dave."

He looks affronted before training his gaze on Gabby. "Tell her, Gabs."

Gabby just looks at me with a smirk and shrugs. "I always invited you."

Huh. I guess I really didn't realize what a homebody I was last year. I was pretty involved in my first year of college, my studies being not only my main focus but my singular focus. I know most people were excited about the parties and the people. I was excited about the music and hope for the future. Priorities, I guess.

"Well, thanks for having me, Dave. I'll probably be around a bit more this year." I try to give him a flirty smile, but I can't help but feel like I probably look deranged. Is this like WWE? Can I tag in my partner now?

Dave hands me a drink, and I don't even bother asking what's in it before taking a long gulp of the liquid. It's a room temperature whiskey and Coke which I feel spreading a relaxing warmth all the way down. It's not my favorite, but I need to do something to shake these nerves off or it's going to be a rough night.

Gabby leans into him, rubbing shoulders suggestively. "Dave, do you know anyone that might be interested in a little molly? We may have come across a little bit."

A surprised smile lights Dave's face. "What are you beautiful ladies charging?"

"Thirty-five?" Gabby says, dropping her chin and staring up at him from beneath her lashes. I should be taking notes. Girl's a natural.

"For that price? I'm sure I can help you ladies out. West is charging too fuckin much this year, but he's the only game in town so people are paying it. Be careful though. He won't take kindly to people selling on his turf."

I snort a laugh. "What's he gonna do, spank me?"

Dave gives me a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Let's not find out. Come this way."

He motions for us to follow him down the hall, before unlocking a door and showing us inside a bedroom. It's beautifully spacious and puts our little house to shame. He doesn't even have any bloodstains on the carpet. Color me impressed.

"I'll take eight."

My jaw drops immediately, and I don't even try to hide it. "Eight?!"

He laughs. "It's a big party. I know of some people that will want them, but feel free to ask around the party. Especially the guys. They won't turn ya down. Just don't do that thing you do, Vale."

My brows knit together and I wrinkle my nose. "What thing?"

"You're doing it. Right now - you're doing it."

I relax the muscles in my face. He starts nodding at me. He grabs me by the hand and pulls me in front of his mahogany dresser that boasts a large picture mirror above it. "I don't think you are entirely aware of the fact that you can come off a little mean."

I give him a teasing smile. "I have no idea what you mean, David."

He nods at me through the mirror before pulling Gabby to his other side, so all three of us are standing in front of the mirror together.

"Lesson the first, Vale. Your product is good, and it's priced to move. Customer service, and likability, are what's going to give you the edge over West. He's hot shit, everyone knows it, but you're hotter. Use that. Gabby, show her how to flirt."

I scoff. "I can flirt."

He shakes his head at me. "Ok, show me then."

I try playing with my hair and making a giggle noise or two before he laughs at my efforts and shakes his head at me again. "That's not flirting, Vale. That's like, a caricature of flirting."

He turns to Gabby, who walks up close to him and moves effortlessly into his personal bubble a little bit. She sweetly croons to him. Bites her lip. Gives good smiles. Coy glances. Lots of touching. Ok, I think I get it. I remember this.

"Ok, ok. Let me try again." I clear my throat, stepping toward Dave dropping my chin, and doing the thing Gabby was doing a minute ago. "How's this?"

He nods, giving me a genuine smile, I trail my eyes down to his lips while trying to hold some conversation with him for a moment. I take opportunities to lean into him, touch his arms, and even make an effort to throw a flirty smile or two.

After a moment, I lean in as though I'm going to kiss him, and he leans in as though he's going to do the same when I put my hand on his chest and push him back. Hurt flickers across his face briefly before he drops his head back when realization dawns.

"Damn. I stand corrected. You really do know how to flirt. And you did it well enough that even though I was trying to teach you how to flirt I still somehow thought that was genuine interest. Are you sure it wasn't? It felt real."

I give him a cordial grin. "You said eight, right?" I put my hand out, palm up, awaiting payment. "I'll take cash."