Gregory Girls Gone Wild - Chapter 28: Chapter 28

*Danika's POV*
Danika sat on a swivel chair in front of a bartender sporting a rugged buzz cut and an expansive collection of arm tattoos.
"Drink order?" the bartender asked loudly, over the smooth chattering of Darling Darlene's.
"Water, please," Danika said politely. She coughed. "Not that I can't drink alcohol, because, um, I can. It's just water would be fantastic right now."
The bartender looked at her curiously, then obliged with a glass.
"Thank you." Danika felt warm. Be cool, be cool.
"First time?"
Danika shifted uneasily in her seat. "No."
The bartender gave her a once over. "Alone on New Year's Eve too? Rough."
"No, someone's coming." Even to Danika's ears, the excuse sounded lame.
"Sure, everybody's got someone coming," the bartender laughed.
Danika looked down at her drink.
"What brings you here?" the bartender asked kindly.
"Wanted some company," Danika admitted. "I've been cooped up all week."
"No family?"
"I visited them for Christmas," Danika said quietly. "But l left the next day. I wasn't in the mood to spend the break with them."
The bartender cleaned a beer glass with a towel. "Don't feel bad. Darlene takes lots of drifters who want someone other than family. Family sometimes don't understand, right?"
Danika squirmed at the bartender's knowing, twinkling eyes.
"You work?" the bartender asked.
"I do some delivery—"
"Hey!" A girl in a sparkly outfit shouted over the counter. "We're ready to order!"
Nodding apologetically, the bartender moved on to the next customer.
Danika fell silent at the thought of her job. Or rather, at the thought of her boss.
Her hands trembled around the glass cup.
It had been nearly two weeks since Jessica's party, and since Rainey had stopped responding to her texts.
She checked her phone.
Danika
hey. happy birthday. have a fantastic day! hope your mom is treating you well.
got the date from facebook. yes, i am stalker supreme.
hi i miss you.
rainey?
please, rainey can we talk?
please?
She had sent twenty or so messages like that over the past two weeks and had called at least four times. Rainey had replied to zero of her attempts, and could Danika blame her? She had acted like such a dick at the party.
Her hand twitched. She had acted like a dick for a good reason. Her boss, Rainey Dumar, a girl—a fucking woman who, according to Facebook turned twenty-one today, had been hitting on her at Jessica's legendary Christmas party.
In front of everyone.
She gulped down the last of her water and looked around the bar.
"I have no idea what to do," she mumbled, dangling her legs.
Pure desperate need to talk to someone had driven her out of her empty dorm room. She shouldn't even be at Gregory College; her parents had expected her to spend New Year's with them.
They had been unhappy with her decision to spend the break away from home. She too was surprised with herself—she didn't know she had it in her. But lately, she was discovering that she didn't know herself half as well as she had thought.
Rainey.
No matter what anyone thought, Danika was no idiot. She had noticed the look of hunger on her boss' face for a while now. She had recognized it simply because it mirrored the same hunger rising in her own spirit.
But why did Rainey have to bring it up in front of Ryan, Danika thought desperately. Why couldn't she have kept it between us?
And what was the hunger? What was it?
That was what Danika was after tonight. Because Rainey had abandoned her in this state, had left her to fend for these out-of-world feelings that Danika couldn't quite understand. The hunger that arose in her throat when she hugged Rainey sometimes, or when Sheba changed in front of her, or when she saw a pretty girl in class. Feelings that used to be pretty much exclusive to Ryan—to guys.
Not girls.
Kissing guys is better.
Yeah, fucking right.
Danika swiveled around to face the bar. It was a rugged chic type of vibe, a few women sitting in round tables smoking and laughing; a corner with a DJ and a small platform filled with dancing women, and purple lights submerging the bar into a haze. Danika's eyes landed on a woman who was sitting at a table with a group of people, looking bored.
Under the purple glare, Danika could see that she was Indian, with shoulder-length, wavy black hair and wearing a black skimpy dress. She was the only other brown person in the bar, as far as Danika could tell. It wasn't like she had a preference or anything, but in a world where everything was strange, there was a comfort, a familiarity of sorts, to see a woman like her in a bar like this.
The woman turned and met her gaze evenly.
Danika swiveled back to the bar counter, sucking in a breath.
I can't do this. No freaking way.
A bead of sweat traveled down her forehead. "Another water, if that's okay."
The bartender chuckled. "You are the world's thirstiest chick, you know that?"
Danika felt like a fish out of a bowl. It was the wrong night to leave her dorm; she was in a casual, white T-shirt and jeans while everyone else was in their best party-wear.
"Two vodka tonics, please."
Danika jumped as a hand gently patted her back. She looked up to see a pair of kohl-lined, dark eyes peering in her direction.
"Sure, Layla."
The bartender pushed a clear, swirly drink onto the counter. One landed right in front of Danika. She blinked uncertainly. After a moment's shock, she realized that the woman, Layla, was buying her a drink.
"Oh, no I can't," Danika said immediately. "I—"
She was about to admit she was underage before smoothly backtracking. "I don't feel like drinking tonight."
Layla's sparkly, moon earrings shook slightly. "Are you turning me down?"
"No," Danika said quickly, backtracking even further. "It's just that I'd rather stay sober when talking to a pretty girl."
The bartender stopped cleaning a dirty glass, mid-swipe, while Layla threw her head back in laughter.
Shocked at herself, Danika flushed. It was the kind of line a guy would say to her if she was at a club or a party. And now she had used it on another woman. A woman who had apparently liked it.
"Layla."
"Hi, I'm Danika."
Layla sat on the stool next to her. Danika couldn't help but notice the flash of upper thigh before Layla pulled down her dress.
"This is her first time, Layla," the bartender grinned. Danika groaned internally.
So uncool.
"No yeah, I figured," Layla said, sipping the vodka tonic slowly. "She looks way too sweet for this place."
Danika's ears warmed. "Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"No, just returning the compliment."
Danika eyed her, trying to get a feel on her personality. "I like your dress."
"Thanks, I got it at Tim's Vintage Boutique on eighteenth street."
"Oh, that's a great place," Danika said eagerly. "I go there all the time."
It was like talking to a friend, really. Just a girl making a conversation with another girl at a lesbian bar. Danika was beginning to think that this whole place was a set up; women don't do anything suspect, they only talk about light topics and compliment each other incessantly.
"Would you like to come over to where my friends are?"
"S-sure."
Layla grasped her hand and led her to a round corner table. The bartender whistled behind them.
Instead of sitting down, Layla took her near a wall which she leaned against and lit a cigarette. Her friends at the table nodded at them and Danika nodded back.
"You're not going to hang out with them?" Danika asked curiously.
Layla blew a ring of smoke. "Nah, we're regulars. Been here every night this week celebrating New Year's. Now we're hungover on the actual night."
Danika laughed.
Layla scrutinized her. "You seem younger away from the bar lights. How old did you say you were again?"
Danika gulped. "Nineteen."
Layla choked on smoke. "Wait, really?"
"Is that a problem?" Danika asked, feeling nervous.
Layla frowned. "No, you just looked older. I'm twenty-eight, by the way."
It was Danika's turn to be surprised. "Really? You look really good for your age." She swallowed. "Not that twenty-eight is old or anything—"
"Thanks." Layla tilted her head to look up at Danika. "I think."
It was silent for several moments. Danika wracked her brain for something interesting to say, when Layla spoke up.
"Want to dance?"
Danika hid her trembling hands behind her back. "S-sure. If you want."
She felt quite frightened as Layla led her to the dance floor. There were women dancing quite wildly to music, flipping their hair and grinding on one another. It smelled like warm bodies and flowery perfume.
She had danced with numerous girl friends in the past and there had been no problem. Why was this any different?
Layla threw her arms around Danika's neck and began to dance slowly, suggestively. Danika sucked in a breath.
This was nothing like dancing with a friend.
She tried hard to move, but her brain seemed to be unattached to her limbs.
Layla looked down at her stiff body, and raised an eyebrow. "Not a dancer, huh?"
"N-no, I am, b-but—" Her tongue felt glued onto the roof of her mouth.
"You've done this before, right?" Layla asked, sounding uncertain. "Being with a girl?"
Danika coughed, remembering the night she kissed Mariah. She wouldn't have called that being with a girl because Mariah was more like a sister, but she couldn't deny the stirring in her gut during the kiss; a vague, primal desire not quite directed at Mariah but at the fact that her body had been so close to her own.
Also, Rainey had coordinated the kiss, which made the whole scenario even more twisted. She flitted the thought away; thinking of her boss made her heart feel sick.
"Yes, I have," Danika said finally.
"Good," Layla sounded relieved. "I don't do virgins anymore. They end up crying on your shoulder, you know? That whole, I'm a lesbian revelation. It's so trite to me, nowadays."
"Yeah," Danika said, staring at a couple making out on the dance floor. Layla's cynicism was sort of rubbing her the wrong way. She much preferred people who cared about others.
Maybe I should just bail, she thought. Not like I'm learning anything here.
She bit back a gasp as Layla sneaked her hands across her back and nuzzled against Danika's ear.
"Hey," Layla whispered, through the heat of the crowd. "If you're uncomfortable, I can send you an Uber home."
Danika blinked, surprised.
"I didn't try to buy you a drink to get in your pants or anything," Layla said, placing her hands on Danika's shoulders. "You looked so beautiful and lonely at the bar, so I thought I'd get to know you better. That's all. And you seem very sweet, like the sweetest person I've met."
Danika hesitantly moved her hands across Layla's back. "I appreciate that."
"Just know that I want you to feel good. Dancing with me or not."
Danika liked her then, immensely. Only a woman could know and lay to rest another woman's insecurity about hooking up with strangers.
"Yeah," Danika mumbled, gathering courage to run her hands through Layla's hair. "I want you to feel good too."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm." Hesitantly, she brushed her fingers against the back of Layla's hair, before resting them on her neck. The beat turned faster, harder and Layla turned around to grind on Danika's crotch.
She groaned. It felt so fucking good.
The flashing lights were too bright, making her close her eyes as she returned every inch of Layla's dancing prowess. Layla turned back around and pulled her close, allowing Danika more access. Danika didn't know what to do, but she followed Layla's lead, stroking her face and neck and her over the dress parts.
They went slow as the music went faster. Layla teased her, it seemed; placing Danika's hands on her ass then throwing it off, grinding against her body before moving away and dancing alone.
It was a while before Danika would let Layla near her lips. Layla began to kiss her jaw, bunching up her hair inside her fist. When Danika mewled, Layla said:
"Oh, you like the hair pulling?"
"Mhm."
"Want me to continue?"
Danika nodded, mouth open. She felt deranged at letting this woman do this to her, making her feel this way. She was so turned on, which was why she didn't protest when Layla pressed her lips against hers.
Her lips tasted like vodka, making Danika feel intoxicated. Her body loosened as they made out on the dance floor, unfailingly unembarrassed.
"You okay?" Layla asked at one point, when their lips were swollen.
Danika could barely see through her hazy, half-open eyes. "Yeah."
"You okay with this?" Layla slid her hands under Danika's shirt, over her bra.
Danika groaned. "Yeah."
"And this?"
Danika understood then, that she could feel both desperate and complacent in a single moment.
They danced for hours, as the songs switched effortlessly. At midnight, Layla led her to the table where all her friends were. Danika, an expert with names, found it hard to remember the many introductions as Layla didn't stop kissing her neck once.
Dazed, she couldn't ever remember spending New Year's in a stranger world.
"Hey, want to get out of here?" It was near one o'clock, and the bar was beginning to look like a drought.
Danika felt off-footed. "To where?"
"My place."
She was both numb and buzzing with excitement. On one hand, she had gotten her answer. She could call it a night. And she was pretty sure Layla was looking for a good lay, which she had no hard feelings against. They weren't each other's type, personality-wise.
But on the other hand, she didn't feel like going back to her empty dorm room, not after the adrenaline of tonight. She didn't want to spend the night like she had previous nights this week—isolated, barely able to get out of bed, attacked by doubt, sick with longing. She took Layla's extended hand and chose not to be lonely.
It took ten minutes to reach Layla's snazzy apartment. Danika felt shy as she entered; it was a grown-up place, with adult, minimalist decorations. Nothing like her kiddy dorm.
Except Layla had a hamster.
"Oh, hi!" Danika said to the small, furry hamster looking curiously through its glass cage. "What's your name?"
"Her name's Momo," Layla answered, smiling softly. She had taken off her shoes and placed them neatly at the front.
"Hi, Momo," Danika whispered.
She cleared her throat and faced Layla. "She's the most precious thing I've seen in my life."
Layla laughed. "Want a drink?"
Danika shook her head. Shrugging, Layla sipped at a wine glass, and with one hand tugged her to the bedroom.
Danika wrung her hands, feeling nervous. What if Layla realized that she had no experience? Would she throw her out?
She lost all coherent thought as Layla spread her out on the bed and kissed her again, harder this time, with purpose.
"I like your bed sheets."
"Thanks."
There was some awkward rearranging of positions.
"You okay?" Layla whispered. Danika responded by kissing her, shoving her tongue inside Layla's mouth.
When Layla began to take off her clothes, Danika couldn't hide her trembling.
"Er, I don't know—" Danika started. Layla looked at her in drunken interest before going down on her first.
Okay, I'll just learn how to do this so I can return the favor... Danika thought desperately.
She felt violent as Layla kissed her stomach and then down below. She wanted to hurl the bed across the room, because she was terrified, then in absolute pleasure, and then both at the same time. Her fingers clawed at the bed sheets.
After two minutes, Danika cried out.
Layla returned to her lips, her sarcastic eyes looking smug.
Then, it was Danika's turn. It was not as smooth as Layla's, to say the very least.
"Um, to the right a little," Layla said helpfully.
"Sorry."
"A little slower too."
"Okay. I can do that."
"You're hot."
"Yeah, thanks. Okay, is this how you, um..."
"No, not at all. Wait, yes, that's it!"
Danika returned back to Layla, feeling a pleasant mix of confusion and relief. Then, to her shock, Layla turned around, kissed her, and fingered her until Danika was crying out once again.
Once it was all over, they collapsed on the bed, exhausted, their legs intertwined. Danika stared up at the ceiling, in serene shock. She felt unbearably sore.
Layla shifted, the bed springs creaking.
There was a sniffle.
"Did you say something?" Layla asked, her voice traveling through the bedroom.
Another sniffle—this time louder.
"Oh, God." Layla sat up, sounding shocked. "Danika, are you okay?"
Danika curled up in a small ball, feeling tears slide down her face. She quickly wiped them away so as to not get the bed wet. Which was of course, ironic.
"Sorry," Danika mumbled. "I don't know why I'm—"
Layla stroked her back. "Is something the matter? Was it not good?"
Danika laughed bitterly. "No, it was great. That's the problem." She bit back a sob. "I-I haven't done this before, so it's all—it's all..."
Her body wracked in pain. "Oh, God."
Layla rubbed her forehead, sounding cross. "Shit. You said you were—"
"I know," Danika wailed. "When I said I've done it before I meant that I've kissed a girl. I hadn't gone all the way. Until you—"
She felt physically ill, like her whole world had collapsed in some stranger's bed while she was naked and vulnerable and coming to a stunning revelation.
"I'm so stupid," she sobbed. Layla, frozen for a moment, instantly came back to life and wrapped her arms around her.
"No, you're not."
"I am!" Danika pulled at her own hair in desperation. "Why did it take me nineteen years to—to realize? What's wrong with me?"
"Shh..."
"Oh, my God!"
"Danika, please, you'll be alright..."
Layla pressed her head towards her chest, brushing her hair in an attempt to soothe her. Danika shook in her arms. She couldn't recognize the hoarse wails coming out of her chest.
"Do you have anyone to call?" Layla asked delicately.
That made her cry harder. "N-no. I have no one." She felt feverish. "My parents don't—Rainey won't answer—I-I'm sorry, I'm messing up your night. I can leave."
Layla sighed. "You can stay the night, okay? Don't worry."
She rubbed Danika's back, her voice filled with pity. "I was in your shoes too, okay? You're going to be fine."
Danika hiccuped. Layla rubbed her back slowly while the darkness of the room encroached closer. Faint sounds of a hamster wheel ran in the background. Momo was still awake.
As Danika allowed herself to be comforted after what seemed like the most painful, insightful night of her life, and as Layla stroked her back gently and whispered consoling words into her ears, she began to drift, impossibly, into a restless, half-conscious sleep.
She wondered if Rainey would ever forgive her. She would fall to her knees if that was what it took. Danika didn't have a problem with apologizing; all she had needed was to figure out what to apologize for.
"No offense," she heard Layla mutter. "I'm glad you've discovered yourself. Really. But this is so the reason why I don't do virgins anymore."
There was an exasperated sigh before Danika drifted away, the bells of the incoming new year heralding her into the unconscious.