Caught

Chapter 14 - Get a Clue

I should have worn something tighter. Like a crop top, or a low-cut shirt, or literally anything other than the crummy band t-shirt I have on right now. Felix and I stick out like a pair sore thumbs. Standing next to the main bar, it feels like every person in the club is staring at us. Or maybe that's just my self-obsession talking.

Basically, I'm a Winona Ryder circa Beetle Juice 1988 in a room full of futuristic Kim Kardashians and Justin Biebers. What a cruel world we live in.

The chances of anyone actually calling the bouncer to kick us out are unlikely though. This place is trying hard to attain that laidback 'I don't care' vibe, so snitching on a couple of teenagers would not be cool. That being said, starting a conversation with the bartender, who I immediately recognized as Elaine Reid, may be a tad difficult if I remind her of a prepubescent girl scout.

"Maybe you should be the one to get her attention." I say to Felix, barely audible over the blaring speakers placed in every corner. "You're outfit may not scream legal adult but at least you've got the style down. That vent made your hair all messy chic, and there's a seductive rip in your v-neck now - I think I can even see a bit of chest hair trying to poke out."

"Hm, I have been growing a bit of a beard lately. Think she'll notice?"

I lean in closer and study the speckles of dark brown hair littering his chin. His sad attempt at facial hair reminds me of coffee grounds wiped on a sheet of printer paper.

Smiling, I give him a thumbs up. "Totally. You're the man."

"Yo bartender, can we get some drinks or what?" He calls out, voice deep and demanding.

Elaine makes her way over to our seats, albeit slowly, and an amused expression takes over her face when she spots our pathetic duo.

"Okay, if you guys are nineteen I must be forty. Let me guess. For the gentleman, a pint of the strongest alcohol I've got, and for the lady, a martini glass filled with whatever drink would sound the dirtiest written on a bathroom stall. Perhaps Sex on the Beach, or our famous Hanky-Panky?"

I scowl at her, not appreciating the condescending tone. This woman can't be more than one year older than us. The only reason she looks mature at all is because her eyes are lined with a metric ton of black liner.

"Yeah, we didn't come here for a cold glass of beer." I retort, crossing my arms. "We came to talk to you. Specifically."

The throng of people crowding the bar has died down by now. Unable to find an immediate exit to the conversation, Elaine begrudgingly continues. "Sorry, do I know either of you?"

"Not exactly, but we know you. Your name is Elaine Reid. You graduated from Berkley High last year, and your hobbies include acting and writing. I couldn't care less about the dozen tequila bottles you've got stashed behind that glass, and just for the record, if I did, I'd be a lot more fucking subtle about it. So will you talk to us or not?"

She glances between Felix and I, biting her lip. "Fine. You've got ten minutes – I need a break anyways. Follow me, we'll go to the back."

* * * * *

The small break room feels homey compared to our previous location among the flashing lights and moving bodies. A cozy cream colour is painted on the chipped walls which surround the three of us, seated at a small wooden table. Elaine sits across from Felix and I, her arms folded defensively. As I wait for someone to speak, the smell of coffee floats around the air, causing me to scrunch up my nose in distaste. I absolutely hate coffee. Elaine insisted on making some, more for her own good than anyone else's, but Felix, at least, seemed quite pleased.