![]() “I just want to dance and be stupid!” She started whining, making her seem much younger than seventeen so we’d be even less likely to get into the club. “It’s after midnight, Jane.” The pair of heels I borrowed from her caused permanent damage to my feet, and I shifted my weight to ease the pain. “I have a good feeling about this place.” Her plan was to get crazy drunk and hook up with somebody completely random, and I couldn’t reason with her. A heavy mist settled over us, but she refused to shiver or admit that any of this fazed her. Since we were going out, I had allowed Jane to dress me, so everything was ill-fitting and far too revealing for the Minnesota night. ![]() ![]() Our fake IDs had not been as impressive as Jane’s connection had promised, and this would be the third club we’d be turned away from, if we ever managed to make it to the door. “Maybe we should just call it a night,” I suggested. ![]() “This is truly infuriating,” Jane said, flicking her cigarette to the dampened sidewalk and smashing it with her stilettoed boot. She’d claim it was only because of her frustration over the line and insist that chain smoking cigarettes kept her warm. The goose bumps stood all over Jane’s shoulder and she stomped her foot, at least partially because of the cold. ![]()
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