The Not-Outcast by Tijan
30
Cheyenne
Melanie liked Juna, a lot. Or she liked Juna’s boobs.
She kept trying to talk to them, but she was talking about how much she loved Cassie. How sad she was about Cassie. How she already missed Cassie. How she hadn’t known how much she cared about Cassie until their ‘tiff’ that night.
I was saying ‘tiff.’ Melanie kept saying ‘tits.’
Juna’s boobs didn’t care either way.
And Juna sat on Melanie’s lap, commiserating with her, and it was more of a friend consoling another friend, except for the whole thing where Juna’s boobs were out.
Sasha was frowning at them, then just shook her head. We were in Sasha’s special booth, and Sash was doing paperwork while we both listened to Melanie. Our duties weren’t so needed tonight, since Juna was taking care of it for us, but we were here. We needed to be here. After closing, Melanie was drunk off her ass. She and Juna had moved to a different booth next to us.
Melanie’s eyes were closed, and her head was back.
She was talking all about Cassie while Juna was smoothing out her hair.
“Oh, that’s so sad.”
Three more dancers joined them. All sitting, listening to Melanie talking about Cassie, and a couple of the girls were brushing away tears.
Yeah. We were so not needed tonight.
Sasha was looking at them, too, and she snorted before closing up her paperwork. She reached for her brandy, then turned to me. “Tell me about your man.”
“I never asked you about Chad.”
She snorted. “Bullshit, you did. You called the other day and we had a three-hour conversation about your Nut-Brother.”
Right. I was deflecting here.
“Talk.”
She’d returned to the one-word statements. So I had to talk.
“Three nights ago I decided to try with him.”
“Why?”
“Because… I do love him.” Crap, crap, crap.
Just, crap.
I whispered, “It wasn’t just an idea back then.”
The music had cut out so she could hear me, and her eyes turned sad.
She grabbed her drink in one hand and took my hand in her other. She squeezed.
I felt it.
I clung to her hand with my other and we sat there like that for a second.
Gah. All these emotions. They were rising up and choking me.
“Girl.” A soft sigh from Sasha.
I felt that in my gut. “Right.”
One of the bouncers headed our way, and he stopped at our booth, taking us in. He saw the brandy in Sasha’s hand, her hand between both of mine, how we were both lounging back, and how neither of us were talking.
“Chicks.” He shook his head and headed out.
The girls said their goodbyes, and one by one, they all started heading out, too.
Melanie’s booth was emptied out. Each of them came over, said a goodbye, and slipped out through their dressing room. Juna brought Melanie back to our booth and stood, staring at us much how the bouncer just had.
She was frowning heavily at Melanie, whose eyes never opened, and as soon as she hit the booth, she turned into whoever was next to her. That was me, and her arms wrapped around one of mine. Her head went down and was resting into my side. She was snuggling into me.
“She’s pretty sad tonight.”
A loud snore ripped from Melanie in that moment.
No one reacted.
Sasha just nodded. “Thanks for taking care of her. Did she tip you at all?”
Juna shook her head, lifting up a shoulder. “Seemed more of a humane thing to do tonight, you know?” She shrugged again, then a brighter smile came back. “Okay. I’m out. I’m off tomorrow.” She said to me, “Tell your man good luck on his game.”
Cut. My man.
The little thrills were there.
I liked feeling those thrills.
“I’ll tell him.”
She waved again before heading out, disappearing into their back dressing room.
Sasha put her brandy back down and lifted her hand. She was reaching into a bag on her other side, and when one of the last of the bouncers came over, she took out a big envelope. Tossing it on the table toward him, she said, “Divide that up. Eighty percent to Juna. Break the last twenty between the other three who listened to my girl the last hour.”
He dipped his head down, took the envelope and headed toward the dressing room.
I’d seen Sasha do that before. All of those girls would come back with an envelope stuffed inside their lockers, and the thing was that none of them expected cash for listening to Melanie. To them, that wasn’t part of their job that night.
“You’re a good boss.”
Sasha grunted, picking up her brandy once again.
Melanie just snored.
* * *
Me: It’s 4 am. Taco Bell is amazing. I’m home.
Cut: Good. How’s Melanie?
Me: She’ll be okay, I think.
Cut: How are you?
Me: Easy peasy. I got Taco Belly tonight, so all is right with the worldy.
Cut: You know what I mean.
A pause.
Me: I really liked the distraction tonight.
Cut: Me too.
Me: I didn’t know I’d wake you up. I’m sorry. Go to bed so I can enjoy my fiesta potatoes guilt-free.
Cut: Will do.
Cut: Cheyenne?
Me: Still here. I’m eyeing the chicken quesadilla instead.
Cut: Your whole ‘idea’ thing? I hope it wasn’t just an idea.
Me: Damn. I’m going for the cinnamon twists instead now.
Me: You’re making me a girl.
Me: I’m really looking forward to some Cut Reaper Ryder tomorrow night. Sorry. Tonight.
Cut: Lol. Okay. Night.
* * *
An hour later,
Me: It wasn’t just an idea.
