6. Dawn.

*what it'll feel like to have sex***

 

 

I stand frozen for about five minutes, my mind trying to process Mae’s blunt comment. However, no matter how much I try to piece things together, I fail woefully but all my instinct tells me is that, something’s up with Mae.

Why was I dressed exactly as Mae last night? I mean, not like it’s a horrible idea but hell, we haven’t so much as use the same body cream to even consider fitting in the same type of dress, hairstyle, and…stilettos?

Omigod.

I can’t ignore this gnawing feeling that this isn’t what it looks likes. It's more than meets the eye. Besides, my instinct whispered something about the bartender being unnerving, right?

I mean, the whole way he served me was as if he lay in wait for my arrival. Did someone alert him or something?

He just offered me champagne as though he already knows without a doubt that is what I’ll order. For all I can remember, champagne is the only alcohol I can down and my friends knows about that. But the bartender?

He was no less a stranger to me.

No, I need to clarify my answers as quickly as possible and with that, my legs begin to drag me in the direction of those voices.

I hope what my instinct is whispering is nothing but lies. I just hope.

On reaching the suite balcony overlooking the hotel’s courtyard, I halt and watch Mae’s back while she fires something to her father in a foreign language.

Good one.

Why is she speaking in another language now?

Oh, Mae, what’s going on? I can remember the day we stumbled upon a middle-aged woman in Brooklyn’s subway station who wanted to purchase a ticket but couldn’t because she can’t address the train conductor with English. I couldn’t hear her at all but all that I was able to grasp from her words was Russia.

Even at that point, Mae had feigned her inability to speak Russian. But a few seconds ago the first word that barreled into my ears was “Solntse.”

I might not be versatile in languages but I’ve sure as hell read lots of books. And I can fiercely hit my chest and say that the word I heard seconds back is a Russian word.

I don’t know the meaning but from all the books I’ve read, it seems to me that it’s a term of endearment parents or partners use to address their loved one.

Shit!

My mind is processing lots now and it’s adding to the pains burrowing through me. I need to stop thinking far and calm my erratic beating heart. Quick.

And I did.

 

 I shut my mind from wandering around for the best possible answers and gnawing feelings that Mae set me up and call her name.

“Mae!” My voice cracks from the dryness and how I strain it.

At my voice, Mae flinches, and her words died out.

“Solntse!!”

I hear her father barking into the phone because of the obvious silence he was graced with. 

 

Between the seconds I called Mae and the seconds she flinched, veering to face me, I hear a sudden nerve-wracking moan filter through my ears.

From its direction, I instantly know that Mercy is getting laid by the stranger who stalked to the hotel with us. I can only assume they hooked up last night and should have exercised at the club but the sudden chaos prevented them from making out.

Well, I don’t dwell on Mercy’s fuck life rather the brooding silence and gape mouth Mae throws my way. She looks beyond shocked and watching the interiors of her eyes I can see fear or rather guilt.

 

 Shit, I don’t know which of these emotions is riveting her eyes but all I know is that her face looks disconcerting.

At the very least, she sends me her enigmatic smile and walks closer to me. Well not before hanging down the call with her father.

“Dawn. You’re finally awake.” Her soft voice washes over me and I shake my head.

“A few seconds ago. That’s when I woke up.”

Hearing that from my lips, she visibly draws her head back and gives my face a swift once-over before painting her lips with her smile again.

“I take it, you’ve regained your strength?” She murmurs and walks past me and into the living room. However, I fall into steps with her, my morbid curiosity getting the best of me.

In order to satisfy my curious side, I prop up the gnawing questions and throw them at Mae.

“You speak a different language?”

At my words, she pause and glimpse at me, not the least beat surprise.

“Yes, although not fluently.” She says hurriedly. Thankfully, my sharp mind was able to drink in all her words.

“What language was that?” I probe further.

 

 I peer up at her and I see her jaw taut slightly as though she’s annoyed by my presence or rather question. Still, I don’t wallow in that. Mae, Mercy, and I have been friends since freshman year. So, I always accommodate Mae's prideful side.

Throwing me a sidelong glance, she says with clenched teeth, “Russian.”

I take a quick pause, only for my mind to sail in different locations. The Mae I know loves to show off newfound knowledge but never this. How long has she learned the language? I wonder but instead of dwelling on it, I ask.

“How long have you known Russian?”

She immediately whirls around to face me, her eyes slitting and lips pulling together. I wonder for the briefest moment why such a harmless question would trigger such reactions from her.

 

“Must you know everything, Dawn? I already told you, I learned Russian and I’m not fluent in it.” She yells.

In between our banter, the moans fill the air around us again coupled with the actions of slapping skin and a deep growl. Definitely, the growl is coming from the guy.

I peer back at Mae who glances at me equally at the same time. “Chill, why are you getting so…”

“Because you ask a lot of questions. Gosh.” She exclaims after intercepting my words. “Look, Dawn, Matt needs my presence. I'd love to honor him with it. So, please. Quit your questions.” She commands.

 

 Mae command me?

It shouldn’t come as a surprise because I’m used to hearing people whisper in school that she dominates and commands people because of her background. But it did surprise me at this moment because for the first time, she uses such a tone on me.

 

She didn’t wait for me to blink an eye and twirl on her feet to walk into their room.

 

“Why did you make me wear the same dress as you?”

 

She instantly pauses and fires me her scorching glare.

“Are you suspecting me, Dawn? Is that how you thank a friend that thought of nothing but your own wellbeing?” She says and her voice drops an octave. Whipping her hair tendrils behind her ear, she scoffs. “Let me remind you, Dawn, I only wanted you to stop freaking sulking. I wanted to help you feel good again. Now, if an accusation is your way of showing gratitude, then I can do nothing but send you out this minute.”

 

I search her face to see any hint of humor from what she just uttered but all I can see there is…seriousness. Mae, is sending me out of her hotel suite all because I asked her a question.

There’s one thing about me that has been my norm since I can reoccur being of age. I don’t linger on places my presence ain’t needed. With what Mae said now, I don’t need to be reminded twice that my presence is burning her path. Hell, I slide my hands through my hair and nod.

 

I give her a swift, answering nod.

“I’d like to use the restroom.” Is all I said as she stand there daggering me with her glare while I skitter around in search of the restroom. Walking through the hallway, I come across an open room door from whence the moans and skin slapping skin emanates.

 

I pause lightly and peer into the room, only to see Mercy naked and on her fours while facing the door and the strange “club” guy was behind her, his pudgy hands held her waist as he slams into her.

The movement makes Mercy jerk forward and her hair mats to her sweat-filled skin. She lets out a laugh and begins to move in cadence with the guy’s strokes and gentle thrust.

I try to edge away from the door surreptitiously but I fail miserably because the hinges of the door screech.

Fucking hinges.

As the sound spills into the room, Mercy and the guy heft their heads and throw glances in my direction.

“Hey!” I wave awkwardly, only for Mercy’s eyes to roll heavenward as the guy pushes into her, I assume this new thrust reaches a very delicious spot, making her roll her eyes.

I finally edge away but while walking down the hallway to the restroom, I hear Mercy shout out.

 

“Happy new year, Dawn.” Her voice was squeaky yet I was able to hear it because the hallway is serene. I can even hear my pulsating heart.

 

When I jerk into the restroom, I ease on the seat and piss. However, while on it I begin to imagine what it'll feel like to have sex.

For the first time in my life, I think of what sex feels like. And as that thought washes over me, my mind drags me back to last night’s kiss.

 

The languid strokes of the stranger's lips against mine. His steely fingers against my jaw. His breath mixed with mint and his midnight eyes.

 

Fuck!

 

Remembering the eyes makes me feel that menace oozing from him. His midnight eyes are enough proof that he’s made for darkness.

Come to think of it, was he able to escape from the club during the chaos?

I feel the strange throbbing of my heart at that thought. What if he didn’t make it out of the club?

What if he was among the people that fell down during the stampede?

Oh, God! I can’t believe I’m worried sick about this stranger.

God! I want to feel those lips of his again. I want to feel the scalding liquid I felt when he pressed his lips against mine. I want to hear that dark, brass voice of his again.

Most of all, I want to know if he’s safe.

Stupidly, I get up from the toilet lavatory seat as that last ‘want’ revolts through me. I land on a quick decision. I should take this opportunity Mae asks me to leave and head to the club again.

I want to know if he’s among the victims or the survivors of last night's stampede.

I saunter to the living room, without saying goodbye, I fling open the door and hasten to the elevator.

I want to know the fate of the man who stole my first kiss.