This story was my submission to Round 8 of ThreeMinuteFiction on NPR. The first sentence was given to the writers, and the rest was up to us. Enjoy.
She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally, decided to walk through the door. The flashbulbs exploded immediately as she crossed the threshold, blinding her eyes to the assembled mob. “Over here,” shouted the crowd, echoing off of the red brick facade of her home. She carefully took a step back, questioning her decision to abandon the memoir, but she had not seen the sun up close since yesterday morning, and she was beginning to feel restless.
A French voice cut through the chorus,“Ms. Reynolds, do you really believe you can compete?”
The following short story contains adult themes and suggestive writing, though it does not contain sexual intercourse. The story is not recommended for individuals who are not aware or comfortable with the topics of sex, seduction, or intimacy.
She slipped her driver’s license into the slim pocket of her purse, zipping it closed quickly before following the rest of the girls into the club. A few heads turned to stare at the small group as the lights danced across their white dresses. They headed towards the bar to order a new round of drinks, but by the time Meredith joined the group, the predictable batch of guys were already swarming, their wallets open on the counter.
“Hey baby, what can I get you?” Meredith smiled politely and pushed her gentle curls behind her ears. “A cape cod, please.”
“Right away sweetheart.” Her smile dropped away as soon as his gaze turned towards the bar. She hated it when the creeps called her cute nicknames. She already had a name that she liked; why couldn’t they just call her that?
“Thank you,” she said as she grabbed the clear plastic cup from his hand. His lips flexed as he formed a thought, but she spoke again before the sound could escape his lips. “We’re going to go dance. We’ll see you later.” Meredith’s smile grew large as she moved past him and scooped her arm under Sarah’s. The group fell into step behind them, leaving the boys at the bar, unable to decide on their next course of action.