Phoenix Knight [A Bad Boy Story] - Editing

Chapter Thirteen

Warning: This chapter is a bit intense.

Today’s word of the chapter: ‘Longevity’. Definition: (Noun) Long Life.

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Chapter Thirteen

The days of skimpy mini-dresses and spiked heels had long since past.

I watched silently as Ivy wiggled into a pair of tight-fitted black jeans and then suffered to clasp the button. She was the one that insisted on borrowing a pair of Bea’s jeans, it was her own fault. Bea was probably a size or two slimmer than Ivy.

Everyone was merrily squeezing into each other’s jeans and borrowed crop-tops while I sat on Jordan’s bed, fiddled with my fingernails and occasionally offered my opinion. I had already made my choice of a belly-revealing neon pink t-shirt that belonged to Ivy along with a pair of navy blue skinny jeans.

That was about half an hour ago.

Why did it take so long for people to just choose an outfit and then stick to it?

I applied a hint of mascara and some red lipstick before getting bored and walking downstairs so that I could watch Wallace and Gromit with Jordan’s younger brother. He was rather well behaved for a five year old. Since my first visit several years ago, he had not once thrown a tantrum or ran around wildly as was expected of a child his age. Instead, he just sat in front of the television and stared at it for hours.

What felt like centuries later, I heard stomping as my friends descended the staircase. I stood to join them and together we finally made for the bus stop. Each of us had decided on either Vans or All-stars because that was pretty much all that Jordan had within her bare wardrobe.

The bus ride wasn’t very long and it didn’t take long for us to arrive at our destination but when we did, I was already regretting my agreement to this idea. I didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of a massive crowd of sweaty thrill-seekers especially considering the group of people I had chosen to come with.

They all got distracted faster than a pack of squirrels.

I had no hope.

This was our first club. Yes, I said first. Ivy wanted us to hit up every dance floor at five different venues between now and midnight when she and I were expected back home. I wasn’t sure I could survive the night.

It was rather dull at the first club. There were mostly forty year olds sitting around at randomly arranged tables, smoking cigarettes and attempting to relive their teenage years. It was a rather sad sight.

♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠ ♣ ♠

By the time we were leaving the third club, I was about ready to give up.

Until Bea’s phone pinged and she handed the phone over to Ivy so that she could read the text. Ivy cheered loudly and dragged us onto the bus once more with the promise of a much better experience at the next place. However, I highly doubted that we would enjoy the next destination anymore than we were taking pleasure in going to the first three.

I was only sticking around out of respect for Jordan.

We arrived at the fourth club with our expectations set high.

I could hear the music booming from where we stood in line, ready to enter. The building was vibrating from the steady beat of some random house-music tune and I almost felt as though it was controlling my heart beat. I somehow felt connected with the song.