Less than an hour later, Collin and Sam had shrugged into their jackets and were out the door, walking to the club. It was only ten or fifteen minutes away, depending on your pace.
It had once taken Collin and Avery an hour to make the opposite trek back to his home, but that was because they'd stop to canoodle next to the swings at Laurel Park.
Damn his alcohol riddled brain! That wasn't something he should think about right now.
He was a free man. Free to indulge in what was once forbidden fruit: flirting with abandon, bumping and grinding with strangers on the dance floor, pursuing beautiful women. And not just Hot Heather, but any hottie.
Collin was ready and up to the task. He was full of liquid courage and was dressed to impress with a pair of dark Levi's and a blue and brown striped collared shirt from H&M that perfectly matched his Steve Madden shoes. He'd gelled his hair to perfection, and thanks to a Listerine strip, his breath was minty fresh.
Sam, as usual, was also on point. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders and a few dabs of glitter made her cheeks glow and accentuated the sparkle in her cinnamon-colored eyes. Cuffed jeans, black Doc Martens, and a crisp white t-shirt finished off her ensemble. She seemed to strike the perfect balance between butch and femme that, based on her dating record, was a magnet for every unattached lesbian in a ten-mile radius.
Just as Collin's ears numbed in the cool night, they arrived outside of the club. It was still early in the night and other businesses were still open along the main strip of downtown. Groups of people were walking down the well-lit sidewalk, holding doggie bags from restaurants, eating ice cream, or laughing about the movie they had just seen at the Santa Cruz Cinema. Right outside the club, a few people were standing around smoking cigarettes, and the bouncer, who cannily resembled TRL's Carson Daly, was sitting on a stool outside of the doorway.
"Hey, Joe," Collin said, pulling out his wallet to show his ID. The ID with a name no one called him and a sex marker that didn't match his identity. At least the picture was up to date. If he'd been anywhere else, he would have felt tense handing over this government-issued lie, worried about how it outed him as trans. Here, though, he wasn't worried.
Joe took the ID and gave it a cursory glance. "Have fun," he said as he handed it back, taking Sam's ID next.
"Oh, you know us. Of course we're going to have fun!" Sam answered as she took her ID back.
The place wasn't mobbed, but it was more crowded than Collin expected this early on a Thursday night. People occupied most of the barstools, and a small group had formed on the dance floor. As Sam and Collin sauntered towards the coat rack, the DJ started playing Get Low by Lil' Jon.
Sam's eyes widened, and a huge grin spread across her face. "This is my song!" she announced and tossed her jacket to Collin. "My balls!" she sang along with the end of the chorus and disappeared into the vacillating mass on the darkened dancefloor.
"There goes my wingman," Collin muttered as he hung up both their jackets on the rack.
Looking around, Collin knew several of the people here. Jordan, his TA from his lecture course on Ancient Greek Literature, was busy cuddling with some guy in a corner. A clique from the campus group CLUH (Challenging, Learning about, and Understanding Hetero-normativity) was occupying one end of the bar. Other people scattered about looked familiar, either from being regulars at the club or just from being part of the queer community in this small college town.
Collin made eye contact with two women he knew from the dorms and walked over to them.
"Hey Collin," Lisa and Kim greeted him in unison as he approached.
The two women–Lisa with pin-straight black hair and dark-rimmed glasses, Kim with bouncy blonde locks and braces–were standing against the bar. He didn't think they were dating, but so many of his friends were in a flirt-hook-up-let's-remain-friends cycle, it was hard to keep track of who was and wasn't a couple on any given day.
"Hey," he said back, grabbing a free barstool next to where they stood, and giving a nod at the bartender, a butch woman with amazing arm tattoos.
"Guess Sam really likes that song," Kim said with a wide metallic smile. "She didn't even stop to say hi to us."
"Who knew she had a thing for sweaty balls?" Collin rolled his eyes.
They both laughed.
"Hey, where's Avery?" Lisa asked.
He glanced back at the bartender who was handing over two cosmos to a couple a few seats away. "I don't know," he answered truthfully.
A look passed between the two women. Before he had to say more, the bartender walked over. "Hey, what you drinking tonight?"
"Seven and seven, please," he ordered, pulling a five from his wallet and placing it in front of him.
"You got it, boss." The bartender grabbed a fresh glass, poured a shot of Seagram straight from the bottle, and then added a spritz of Seven-Up. "Here you go."
Collin raised his glass. "To the post-Avery era." Then he tilted the glass back, draining it.
Lisa and Kim joined him with a long sip from their beers.
Just then, the song changed. The unmistakable beat of Milkshake by Kelis started playing, and Collin felt an arm drape across his shoulder. "Come on, boy! I'm bringing you to the yard," Sam shouted in his ear, louder than necessary.
"You coming?" he asked Kim and Lisa as he was dragged off, but they just shook their heads, holding up their beers as explanation.
Emersed into the dance floor, and surrounded by sweating bodies, Collin allowed his movements to be led by the thrumming beat. The whiskey loosened his muscles and he quickly he assimilated into the gyrating knot. He didn't think. He just danced. His arm rubbed against a stranger's, his back pressed against someone else. Sam was shaking her booty and bouncing her shoulders and lip-syncing to all the lyrics, making exaggerated seductive faces that made Collin cackle with delight.
When the next song came on, he barely noticed. The crowd continued to sway around him, and he was powerless against the tide of movement. Hands grazed his hips and hot breath tickled the back of his neck. Collin leaned into the body behind him, feeling hard muscles. He turned to his unknown dance partner and found himself face to face with an Adonis: tall, dark, and handsome. Collin smiled and continued to dance. The stranger bit his lip and grabbed at Collin's hips, drawing him in. As the song continued, their faces drew closer and Collin could smell the vodka on the man's breath. They continued like that for the rest of the song and the start of the next one.
With Britney Spears's voice hyping the growing crowd, the man leaned closer to Collin, his stubble tickling his ear, "Hey sexy, want to get out of here?"
Collin placed a hand on the man's chiseled chest. "I'm having fun, but I'm not gay."
The man's expression changed. His brows furrowing and his lips pursing–in anger or confusion, Collin didn't know. "Then why are you here?"
The question caught Collin off guard. For a moment, he was speechless. He'd been coming here since before he was legally allowed, back when his form of identification had been a Hawaiian fake ID. This was his place. It was a place for him. People like him. It was where he belonged. Wasn't it?
"I'm trans," Collin answered in explanation, causing the man's features to soften.
"My offer still stands if you change your mind," he winked before melting into the crowd.
Sam was still dancing nearby. Collin made his way over to her. "I need some air," he shouted over the music.
And as they walked back through the bar, past Lisa and Kim, and out the door, Collin couldn't help but feel like an imposter. When he came out as trans, didn't he also come out at straight?
Avery was right. His queerness had become invisible. That was something he was going to need to learn to accept.
"Cigarette?" Sam asked as the night air cooled the sweat from their faces.
Collin didn't normally smoke. He hated the taste and the way it made his clothes and fingers smell. But fuck it.
"Sure," he said, plucking one from the pack. Then, with the cigarette in his mouth, he leaned forward, cupping his hands against the breeze, and placed the tip to Sam's waiting lighter. He inhaled. It tickled the back of his throat, but he didn't cough. The tendrils of smoke worked his way from his lungs and up to his brain, and he felt momentarily lightheaded. He leaned back against the building's tinted plate-glass windows.
Under the shade of the awning, he peered down the street, his eyes unfocussed.
Then, like out of a dream, he saw Hot Heather walking on the opposite sidewalk. She was coming from the direction of the bus stop. A full JanSport backpack on her back, two books in her arms.
He blinked.
She was still there.
"Hey," he said to Sam, without looking away, "Do you see that girl over there, or am I hallucinating?" He pointed.
Sam followed the direction of his finger. "Yeah, I see her." Then she squinted. "I think I know her."
"You do?"
"Yeah, the girl who is about to topple over from too many books? She's in my yoga class. But I don't remember her name. Why?" She took another drag from her cigarette.
"Could her name be 'Heather'?" Collin asked.
The girl had walked past them now, but his eyes remained on her back. Soon she would be out of view, but he could not look away. She attracted him like a magnet to metal.
Out of his periphery, he noticed Sam scrunch her face in thought. "Yeah, yeah. That sounds right."
Finally, Collin turned to face his friend. "Sam, you really know everyone, don't you?"
"I mean, yeah," she said with a laugh. "But, why? Do you know her, too?"
"That's Hot Heather, the barista."
Sam nodded. "Oh, the bet... Yup, she is definitely hot." Her cigarette was done, and she flicked it off the curb. "Come on, let's get back to the dance floor." She stepped towards the door.
But Collin remained unmoving. "Don't you have yoga on Fridays?"
Sam looked over at him with one brow arched.. "Yeah..." Then, realization dawning, she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Oh my God, dude, don't be a stalker."
"I'm not! I'm not." Collin raised his hands. "But I think I'm going to head back and get some rest. It's been a long day. See you at home?"
Sam paused, a silent debate playing on her features, and then she nodded. "Walk home safely."
"You too," Collin said, and then turned to walk home. Tomorrow he'd need to bring his A game.