He looked so tough and she was so petite that on first glances alone it was a funny mismatch in which you’d assume he’d break her…but Dee was a scrappy little hard-ass beneath her sweet-as-pie exterior. On the few occasions he came to watch our self-defense classes, with our increased strength, Dee gave him a run for his money when he agreed to spar with her. He still pinned her to the floor…he was tough for a human.
This made me feel better about still having them as my security team; I had wondered if there was any point if I was stronger and could fight better. But Tristan is a skilled marksman and experienced soldier; even if I do have the edge on the strength front, he’s better at using it against me.
Not only did our senior year involve additional skills and associated training, dissertations and final exams, we also had to become mentors to the freshman girls in our sorority, to help them with the transition just as we had when we started.
I mentored Sophia; a striking, ethereal girl who was also completely naive thanks to a sheltered – bordering on claustrophobic – upbringing designed to keep her safe until she was immortal and indestructible.
She was innocent, sweet and adorable so I took particular care with her, helping her find her way and her confidence.
Once the first phase of maturity passed, along with all the horrible symptoms, my confidence returned and then some. I was finally content in my own skin and thriving in my new life, and I wanted to make sure that Sophia had the tools to do the same. Dee and I helped her to become a spirited, independent woman, even if she was still a little clueless in new social situations. But she embraced her awkwardness and we loved her for it.
* * *
“Emilia! Dee!” Sophia calls in her singsong voice, “Please tell me you are going to the big graduation party at Inferno?”
Dee and I graduate in a few days, so this really is a non-question; of course, we’re going to the biggest party of the year.
I smile indulgently at her. Inferno is one of the hottest clubs in Manhattan – it opened with a bang two years ago and hasn’t shown signs of fizzling out. After last year’s legendary graduation party there, it looks set to become something of a tradition. I don’t think I know of a single person not going, including my little socially obtuse Sophia.
“Of course, that isn’t even a real question,” chimes Dee.
I see the real reason for her question. “Would you like to hang with us?”
Clubbing is one of those situations that Sophia hasn’t really ventured into and is not at ease with it.
Dee won’t mind her tagging along with us; Sophia is easy going and a lot of fun when she’s with people she can relax with. She’s like our little sister and I’m going to be sad to leave her behind after graduation.
“You sure you don’t mind?” she beams her brilliant white smile.
“Of course not,” assures Dee.
“Come by my room and we’ll get ready together, get a bite to eat and then get a ride together. And by ride, I mean Tristan has offered, sorry insisted, on driving us.”
“Ah, I’m too excited to eat!”
“If you’re gonna drink, you need to eat,” Dee and I chant our mantra together as we head off for one of our last classes with Matron, leaving Sophia to her own excitable devices.
Later, after lots of music, a couple of glasses of wine and a few slices of pizza – forced down Sophia – we are dressed to impress and sat in the back of the Audi SUV that Tristan is driving, heading towards Inferno.
Tristan keeps his eyes on the road and not on the amount of skin currently on display on the back seat. I’m not sure, but it looks like he has to try harder than normal to look professional.
I have a tendency to overheat in nightclubs, so I dress minimally; not so that I can get laid, but so I don’t get too hot. Tonight is the perfect example as I rock black tailored short shorts and a figure-hugging halter top the same nude blush color as my stilettos; the shimmer of the halter fabric is the only way to differentiate between the top and my skin. And to keep my hair off my neck, it’s swept over one shoulder and held in place with a delicate sparkly comb.
Dee doesn’t have the same overheating problem as me and is dressed in sprayed on skinny jeans and a flimsy backless halter-neck in fire-engine red that makes my top look conservative, the color complimenting her towering stiletto Louboutin’s – she needs the extra inches of height.
Sophia looks amazing with her wide-eyed, innocent face perfectly made up thanks to Dee, her hair carelessly tied up and her delicate curves poured into a fifties inspired electric blue dress.
When Tristan pulls up outside the club, the queue to get in snakes its way up the sidewalk and around the corner of the block, but Tristan called ahead and name-dropped my father so that we could go straight in.
He probably didn’t need to bother, judging from the handshake, half-hug thing he did with the bouncer on the door security – clearly, they know each other. And if none of that worked, Dee could totally just wiggle her ass because the bouncer was totally checking her out.
The heat and music hit us as soon as we walk through the doors; pulsing beats with thumping baselines vibrate through us as bright yellow lights flash through the crowd and pick out the deep reds and burning orange assents of the décor. With a smoky haze, it really does resemble an inferno.
Tristan leans in close to my ear to talk over the music and tells me that he’ll be at the bar nearest the entrance if we need him. He has a team dispersed around the club, strategically watching us from a distance. I know the drill and that this is the trade-off if I want to go out partying.
This is the reason I’m not bothered if I meet anyone or not – it’s awkward as fuck having to explain a one-night stand situation to your bodyguard. Making out on the backseat while your hired gun drives you both home, like a couple of pathetic high school kids being picked up by a parent, is not conducive to hot hook-up sex. Plus, since Tristan and I are something resembling friends, he’ll give me the ‘look’. The one that says ‘you’re free to live my life and fuck who you like but secretly I disapprove of your choices’.
He stalks off as Dee sashays towards the dance floor, not needing another drink to get her groove on. She grabs hold of Sophia’s hand and takes her along for the ride, so I’ve little choice but to follow.
After a half-hour or so of booty shaking to pumping beats, I decide that it’s time for more drinks and head off to the bar. I figure I’ll check in with Tristan while I’m at it before I get any drunker.
He sits at the quietest part of the bar closest to the door, which is the perfect spot for me to squeeze into and order drinks. As I get closer, I see that he is actually smiling and…wait, laughing?
Tristan has caught the attention of a woman older than me, closer to his age and she is actually making him laugh. These are two very jarring images; Tristan with a woman and Tristan smiling. I don’t know which is more unsettling.
Lacking any tact or subtlety, due to the alcohol already in my system, I bounce up to them totally clueless to any awkwardness this might cause. For a moment I’m not too steady on my feet and stumble into Tristan’s side.
“Hi!” I giggle. Without needing to focus on me as much as I thought he would, he extends his arm, wraps it firmly around my waist and hauls me back upright. Once I’m vertical, he places both hands on my hips in a very casual gesture to make sure I don’t topple over again. I don’t think anything about this contact, it’s Tristan after all, but his lady friend gives me a serious death stare and stalks off without waiting for an explanation. I’m his job, of course, he won’t let me fall on my ass.