She glances at the photo of Grace like an afterthought. “Who’s she?”
“My sister.” I linger on Grace’s face. I took this photo one evening this past April when we went down to the beach to watch the sunset. Grace is posed in front of a blazing orange sunset. It’s washed across the horizon and dancing on the water like fire. But it pales in comparison to the smile on her face. It lights up the photo. It’s the same smile she wore every day. It’s the same smile that made everything better. It’s the same smile that was tangible proof I was surrounded by goodness. It’s the same smile that made me feel like the luckiest person in the world to have her as a sister. That smile, this photo, it’s everything that’s pure and honest in this world.
“Well, I’m outta here. I’ve got people to see and places to go.” She grabs her bag.
She’s wearing very tiny white shorts and a white tank top with no bra. I’m all for letting the girls run free every now and then, but you can clearly see her darkened ni**les through the thin white material. What if she just forgot her bra? I can’t let her go out without saying something. “Um, Sugar.” I gesture to my own chest trying to be subtle.
She looks down at her gigantic and unbelievably perky boobs. Those can’t be real, can they? “What?”
“Not sure what you’re going for, but you do know that the twins are on full display, right?”
She shrugs. “Yeah.”
I throw her a thumbs up. “Okay, you’re all good then sister. See ya.”
I decide today is the day that Clayton must be introduced to Grounds. I open the door gently this time and damn if the bell isn’t thunderous again. The laws of physics have been proven false; the amount of force exerted on the door cannot be equal to the volume forced from that f**king bell. The beast cannot be tamed. Romero is here again and remembers my name, first and last. I introduce him to Clayton and Clayton orders a mocha macchiato with soy and light whipped cream. He looks on the verge of ecstasy the entire time he’s drinking it. Can you climax from drinking a cup of coffee? You’d think I’d know the answer to that. Clayton’s been rendered speechless. My black coffee is epic again too, but obviously not climactic. Maybe that’s what’s so great about putting all the extra shit in it.
Clayton and I spend the afternoon listening to music in his room. Clayton’s strictly into dance, dub step, and house, which I’m all about. We dance our asses off like two thirteen-year-old girls. I love to dance. Gus and I went dancing a lot. There were always bonfires at the beach that turned into dance parties. Grace always loved the music so I would bring her along. Or sometimes Audrey would take Grace for the night and Gus and I would go to a club where he knew the bouncer who’d let us in even though we were both underage at the time. Gus is amazing on the dance floor. After having sex with him, one pretty much explains the other. Let’s just say he’s very comfortable with his body and knows it damn well.
Pete walked in on the dance party, turned beet red, did a one-eighty, and left again. Guess he didn’t have any moves to bring to the floor. We’ll have to work on that. Clay is good, though. You know when you go to a club and there’s one person that everyone watches? They make it look easy? That’s Clayton. I’m impressed.
I’m sweaty when I leave to head back to my room around 6:00. “Clayton, you can tear up the dance floor my friend. We need to find a club that has a 21 and under night sometime.”
His smile is pure elation and he claps his hands so fast they look like hummingbird wings. “Oh Katherine, that would be fabulous. I’ve never been to a real club before.”
That surprises me. “Really? Where’d you learn those moves, boy?”
He blushes, then asks, “Do you think there are any g*y clubs in Minneapolis?”
I shrug. “Sure.”
His blush deepens. “Katherine, would you, I mean if I can find one that we can get into, would you go with me? I don’t have anyone else to ask.”
I give Clay’s shoulder a little squeeze. “Absolutely. Just let me know when.”
He smiles so wide it almost takes over his entire face and throws his arms around my neck. “Thank you.”
I pat his back, gently trying to prompt some release from his death grip. “No problem.”
After I hit the shower I arrive back to an empty dorm room and decide it’s time to try out Skype again. I text him and by some stroke of luck, Gus is available. Rook is back in L.A. again. They recorded the entire month of July and they’ve been summoned back to approve album artwork and prepare for their tour, which is tentatively scheduled to kick off at the end of September. After the release of the album, the label is hoping to get some immediate radio play to hype them up and encourage a successful tour. Sounds easy, right? It’s going to be a stressful month, and if there’s one thing that makes Gus crazy, it’s stress. I’m already worried about him.
A warm rush of crazy happiness floods through my veins when I see his goofy smile light up my laptop screen. “Long time no talk Bright Side. What up?”
“Hey Gus. You first, how’s it going in L.A.?” Even though we text each other a few times every day, I always want to catch up on details.
“Dude, it’s been f**king exhausting.” Looking closer, I can see dark shadows under his eyes.
“Yeah, you look like hell. When’s the last time you slept?”