Drip Drop Teardrop

The guys danced with them for a while, and Avery’s elbow found Josh’s stomach a couple of times when he danced too close. Just as he was beginning to destroy her buzz, the guys decided they were too hot and went off in search for a table.

Sometime later Jemima persuaded them to leave the dance floor to get another drink and find the boys. Eventually they found them upstairs at one of the low tables and sofas that overlooked the dance floor below. They already had a round of drinks waiting for them. Avery stood with Sarah a little away from Jemima and the guys, who lounged on the sofa, sipping the JD and coke this time as they swayed their hips in time with the music. As she surveyed the huge club, Avery felt a prickle of awareness and her eyes automatically sought out the cause.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was him again.

The last couple of months at the club Avery had become aware of this guy watching her – well, her friends said he was - but every time she looked over at him his gaze was elsewhere. He was pretty hard to miss. It wasn’t just the fact that he was so tall and wide of shoulder. Or that he was always dressed in this stylish suit that looked as if he should be melting in it. It wasn’t his longish silky black hair or eyes that seemed to burrow through the crowds with power. No. It was the hideous, long scar across his stark face. It cut from just above his right eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose and deep along his left cheek in a diagonal slash. In the flashing light of the club that’s all she ever seemed to see. That ugly scar. That ugly scar that made people turn and look at him with a mixture of fear and awe. The stir he caused made Avery shrink from him in her natural disinclination to be centre of attention. While she swore she found him repellent, at the same time her eyes were weirdly drawn to him. She couldn’t stop wondering what colour his eyes were.

A heavy arm thumped down across her shoulder making her spill her drink.

“Hey, pretty lady,” an unfamiliar voice slurred in her ear and she drew back from the breath that stank of alcohol and looked into the face of a very drunk guy.

Irritated, Avery tried to pull away from the stranger but he clung like a burr.

“You wanna dance?” His hips gyrated at her and she heard Sarah giggle beside her. She threw her an ‘I am not amused’ look.

“No thank you.” She tried to get out from under his arm again but her dark hair got caught in his grubby hand. “Will you let go,” she snapped. Why was it drunken guys thought it was OK to manhandle strange women in public?

“Hey, baby, chillax, I just wanna dance.”

She grimaced. “Chillax? Really?” She tried to shrug him off again and only ended up spilling her drink.

“She said get off her, man!” Josh was suddenly in the guy’s face, pushing him aggressively away from Avery so she lost her balance and would have fallen if Sarah hadn’t been beside her.

“Hey, man, chillax, chillax.” The guy could barely open his eyes he was that far gone.

“Chillax? I’ll f**king chillax, man.” Josh made to lunge for him but Adam thankfully grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “You better take off!”

The drunk stumbled down the stairs away from them, half the people at the nearby seats glaring at him and the other half at Josh. Avery was with the latter half.

“Jesus, Josh.” She thrust her empty glass at him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t need your help.”

Josh glared at her, completely taken aback by her attack. “The guy wouldn’t get off you! I heard you ask him to a dozen times!”

“I was handling it,” she hissed, wishing she could melt into the floor so people would stop staring. This was why she had broken up with the idiot.

“No, you weren’t. You’re just a little thing, Avery.” Josh moved to brush a hand down her arm but she jerked away from him. “You’re not strong enough to deal with guys like that.”

A flush of anger crawled up from the pit of her stomach, up across her chest, spreading up her neck like a rash of indignation. She was so fed up of people telling her she wasn’t strong enough. You’re not strong enough to cope with college and work, Avery. You’re not strong enough to cope with a sick aunt, Avery, maybe we should look in to getting you some help. You’re not strong enough to beat off some drunken guy, Avery! These people had no idea who she really was - the crap she had gone through and was still going through. And all she wanted tonight was to freakin’ dance without people staring at her expecting her to fall to pieces!

“You’re not my boyfriend, Josh, and you won’t be ever again,” she snarled, ignoring Jemima punching the air in support, clearly glad Avery was finally telling him off. “So stop pretending we are something, OK.”

He looked like a wounded puppy but Avery refused to feel bad. He’d used that look too many times to manipulate her in the past. No wonder he thought she had no backbone. “But, Ave-”

“No. No ‘but Ave’ anything. I am going back down to the dance floor and if you follow me and try to dance up my butt again, so help me God I will kick you in the nuts.”

She swept past him hurriedly and down the stairs, hearing Sarah rushing to catch up with her. Once on the dance floor Sarah gazed at her wide-eyed, clearly desperate to laugh. Avery threw her a sheepish shrug, wondering where that blast of anger had come from, and then hi-fived the hand Sarah held up to her. They burst out laughing. God, telling Josh off had felt so good. Chuckling, she spun around letting the music take over again, stripping her life down to just this moment, on this floor, with this music in the air.

A little while later she felt a tug on her arm and Sarah was gesturing at her. She leaned in and Sarah yelled in her ear, “Hey! That guy is here. He’s staring at you again!” She pointed through the crowds and Avery followed her gaze to the tall, dark scarred guy across the room. This time when she looked he didn’t look away. Their eyes locked and Avery’s heart began racing like crazy, a hot tingling flush completely different from the heat she felt from the dance floor seized a hold of her, and for a minute she couldn’t breathe, the sound of the music growing muffled, like she was under water or something. And then she blinked and he was gone, the hotness disappearing with him. She took a huge gulp of air and turned to Sarah wide-eyed.

“You OK?” Sarah shouted, looking concerned. “He’s really creepy, Avery. And he looks really dangerous all scarred up like that. Maybe we should tell someone!”

Avery managed a weak shake of her head, not entirely sure what had just happened to her. But the last thing she wanted was drawing attention to the situation. Trembling, she had to force her body to respond to the music again until eventually her muscles relaxed into it, her heart racing at a normal speed for the exertion she was putting it through. At some point Sarah told her she was going to get another drink and Avery threw her a nod in response before spinning back into the throng of dancers, not caring she was alone; she just closed her eyes and let the music sluice over her.

The beat of the Black-Eyed Peas began to wind down as the mix of the next song seeped into it, and Avery opened her eyes in disappointment as Paul Weller’s You Do Something to Me came on. She wasn’t the only one confused by the song choice, but pretty soon people shrugged it off and coupled up, swaying to the sexy romance of the music.