Come As You Are Ch. 06

"You guys got along last night and spent most of today skiing together," Irina pointed out. "Maybe he's changed. He's not frumpy, I can see that."

"He still said a few things today that irked me." Michelle dismissively waved her hand. "You know how there are some people you just don't click with? He's one of them for me. But I can tolerate him in small doses." Michelle reached across the table and put her hand on top of Irina's. "Don't worry about me. Worry about you. To quote my friend Sadie, sometimes you just have to let your freak flag fly."

"Advice you should consider taking," Irina quietly laughed.

Just then, the waitress placed two drinks down on the table, one in a tall glass and the other in a glass coffee cup. The brown liquid in the coffee cup had black flakes floating on the surface as it gave off sweet-smelling steam. "One Long Island Iced Tea," she said, "one Ginger Pepper Cider. It's apple cider, bourbon, a hint of ginger, and a dash of black pepper. Our bartender swears that it's perfect for a sore throat."

Michelle took the mug and toasted Irina. "To an open throat... oh shut up," she groused in a good-natured manner as Irina squeezed her eyes shut with laughter. The warm cider soothed her throat while the bourbon socked her in the stomach, the pepper providing just a little extra kick. "That's really good."

"How much of it is the cider helping your throat and how much is the bourbon getting you hammered enough to forget your throat?" Irina sipped at her drink, wincing once she finished. "Whoa, that's strong."

"Tell the bartender thank you," Michelle told the waitress, "and that the next time you come past I'll probably ask for another one." The waitress nodded, turning away to continue her rounds. "Yeah, it's helping," Michelle said to Irina. "I'll have to remember this for the next time I get sick."

"So I'm thinking two drinks, and then the dance floor if there are people out there?"

"Sounds like a plan," Michelle said before taking another sip of her cider.

X X X X X

It turned out to be three drinks.

It had taken two of the ginger pepper ciders and a whiskey sour chaser before the dance floor had filled enough for Michelle and Irina to feel comfortable joining the crowd. The music of choice was electronica, a mix of beats and speeds that occasionally threw in a familiar song or two. Immediately after stepping onto the dance floor, Irina had been marked by nearly every single guy in the club as a target. Her sleeveless red blouse hugged her body in all of the right places, showing off her ample frame while still allowing her to swing and move her hips in time with whichever guy worked up the courage to come dance with her. Michelle was the opposite. Her clothes were just loose enough to allow for full freedom of movement without showing off her body.

A few guys had come up to her and attempted to dance, only for her to easily shuffle away from them, letting the music guide her. She had caught a few utterances of 'tease' and other disparaging remarks, but they were nothing Michelle hadn't heard before. Growing up with a smattering of ballet classes and a season of gymnastics in elementary school before focusing on skiing, Michelle smoothly moved with sinuous grace. Each motion flowed into the next one like water. The BPM of the songs rose and fell, but Michelle barely noticed as she gave herself over to the music.

After the fourth drink (a rum and Coke) and the fifth drink (another whiskey sour), her vision began to blur. Sweat dotted Michelle's brow as she continued to dance, trying her best to work off the alcohol and believing she was winning the fight. Irina had settled in with a tall black-haired man, leaving Michelle alone. She barely noticed she was alone as she twirled in place, the other dancers giving her space and respectful glances while she moved.

She felt a hand on her hip. "Did you get left alone again?" a semi-familiar asked. Michelle spun around. Steve, the blonde skier from earlier that day, was moving in time with her, not the music while holding a drink of his own. Michelle saw that he was wearing the collared shirt and blue jeans that were quickly becoming a stereotype on college campuses, and once again there was that distinct smell of Axe body spray.

"Yeah, I did," Michelle answered with slurred words. "Thank you very much!" She gracefully spun away from his touch, taking a few steps away to resume her dancing, only for Steve to follow. "I don't think you're getting the hint," she told him while sliding to the side in an attempt to get away from him. "This is Girl's Week. I'm dancing with myself! No boys allowed!"

His smile was friendly enough that maybe a girl could have fallen for it, especially one who had already downed five drinks. "You've been dancing by yourself all evening, and that skinny friend you were with earlier today isn't anywhere to be seen." Steve turned with her, taking a drink while doing so. "Come on, if you could give a guy like that a chance, give a guy like me a chance!"

"Alright. Keep up if you can!" Her movements were still in time but somehow Michelle's body began to move faster. The alcohol inside of her caused her to throw herself more into the music, and she ran with it.

Steve didn't know how to respond. His dancing to the music was nothing like Michelle's. Every time he moved closer to her she would move away. "You're not playing fair," he yelled out.

"Fair? When did I ever say I played fair?" A small space cleared around Michelle as she danced. Steve was forgotten by both Michelle and the crowd. Her hips swayed, her arms rose and fell into the air, and her only competition was herself. At some point Steve vanished, leaving her alone with the music. It took the music coming to an end and the DJ speaking about drink specials to break Michelle out of her trance. She blinked in confusion as several of the people around her clapped, smiling at her as sweat beaded on her forehead and caused her green blouse to cling to her body.

"Oh my God, Michelle." Irina slid up next to her with the widest smile in the nightclub. "That was amazing!"

Michelle waved a hand at Irina. "Thanks. Whew, I need a break."

Irina helped Michelle off the dance floor. "That was some amazing dancing," she told her roommate as they sat down. "I've never seen you move like that before."

"Could be the booze," Michelle said. She had both hands on the table. Now that she was no longer moving, the room seemed to be spinning slightly and she needed to keep her balance.

"Could be the mountain air too. Probably the booze." She looked down at the empty table. "And there's no booze on the table. We should order more."

The drinks were ordered, the gin & tonics were brought back, and the alcohol was consumed. "So what brought that dancing spell on?" asked Irina, pushing her empty drink to one side.

"I was coming up here for skiing and dancing, right? If I'm going to do both, I'm going to kick ass at both!"

"You kick ass at everything. You're my fucking role model. I wish I had your willpower and dedication."

"You have willpower and dedication. You're getting A's in all your classes."

"Yeah, but I'm taking liberal arts stuff. You're in high-end math and accounting classes. I'm good at school, but you're great at it. I'm good at dancing, but you own the dance floor. I'm going to the gym three times a week, you're going six. I'm doing black diamonds, you're doing double black diamonds." Irina put her hand out, palm down, fingers flat. "It's like everyone's here, but you..." She raised her hand several inches. "...have this extra gear that no one else has. You're amazing Michelle. I want to be like you when I grow up."

Michelle's response was a deep sigh. "If I'm so amazing, why don't I want to find a boyfriend?"

"Because... whoa." Irina had jabbed a finger in Michelle's direction before suddenly grabbing the edge of the table. "That gin and tonic's hitting me. It's because you haven't met the right guy yet, that's all."

"I don't even meet the wrong guys. I meet guys who do absolutely nothing for me." Michelle pointed out at the dance floor. "I see cute guys but there's no spark. Nothing that makes me want to go 'convince me to let you see me naked.' Hell, nothing that even says 'sure, you can dance with me.'"

"Have you ever considered that maybe you're a lesbian?"

"No. I'm definitely sure about that one. Girls do nothing for me."

"How about asexual?"

"I don't think so. I've enjoyed sex the couple of times I've had it. I'd like to have it again." Michelle motioned towards the crowded nightclub. "All of these attractive guys and not a hint of interest."

"Maybe you're just discriminating. You have a specific set of criteria and a guy doesn't meet your high standards then they're not even an option. You don't want to settle for 'Mr Right Now.'" The blonde's eyes lit up. "Or maybe you just haven't met The Guy yet!"

Michelle could hear the capitalization in Irina's words. "The Guy?"

"Yeah. A lot of girls have one. You meet that specific guy who turns the key and gets your engine going. I don't mean a night of hot passionate lovemaking. I mean the guy who introduces you to a much wider world when it comes to sex. You," Irina declared, jabbing her finger for emphasis, "just haven't run into him yet. When you do, then the floodgates will open. Metaphorically speaking."

"Did you have one?"

"My next-door neighbor my senior year. He was in his late 30's..."

"Irina!"

"It's OK. He was a widower and I was over 18. His wife had died a few years before and I babysat his kids all the time. One weekend my folks were out of town, his kids were with the grandparents, we got to talking on the sidewalk, one thing led to another... 48 hours later, I was a completely different woman with a completely different take on the world. Before that, I dated because you were supposed to date, lost my virginity over the summer, but it was all just rote. After him, everything was just different."

"And if I never meet The Guy?"

"Trust me, you will. You might not know it at the time, but you will." Irina stood up from her chair. "I have to go to the bathroom. You OK?"

"I'm still good." Irina slowly made her way to the bathroom, using the nearby handrail for guidance. Michelle knew that would be her at some point. Her head was beginning to get the heaviness that came along with being drunk, and she was under the belief that everything she did had to be done slowly and methodically. While she waited for Irina to come back, her gaze drifted to the dance floor. In the far corner, Steve, a drink in hand, was dancing behind a black-haired girl who was pushing back to grind against him. Michelle felt no jealousy or loneliness at the sight. She just felt off. It wasn't the booze. It had to be the boys. Maybe Irina was right. She just hadn't met The Guy yet. But Brenda never talked about The Guy, nor had Colette, and if Sadie had met The Guy she would have told the others in a heartbeat.

Good theory, lack of supporting evidence.

The thought of her friends caused Michelle to drunkenly grab her cell phone. Maybe they had some insight into Irina's theory. She stood up, swaying in place for a second, before making her way to the crowded lobby of Wonderland. Michelle had to push her way out the front door, where the cold air slapped her in the face. She almost lost her footing as she clutched her phone in one hand, saving herself by putting her other hand against the outer wall of the nightclub. "'scuse me," she said as she stumbled to a nearby bench outside a general store that was doing a brisk business among the tipsy and inebriated resort guests.

It was the phone number for Brenda's dorm room that came up first in her address book. Within a few seconds, Michelle's phone was ringing. "Hello," a voice picked up on the other end.

"Brenda?"

"Michelle? Hey! What's going on?"

"Why can't I find a boyfriend?"

"Um... where are you?"

"Blackcreek, outside this nightclub... no... outside this general store. By myself."

"Have you been... it's Michelle," she heard Brenda say.

"Who's there?"

"Just Colette," Brenda answered. "We were having some late-night take-out. What's wrong?"

"I'm alone in a crowd. Why am I alone?"

"Oh, sweetie. Have you been drinking?"

"A little. A lot. A lot of dancing. And drinking." Michelle leaned forward, holding her head in one hand. The cold was beginning to bother her but she hadn't yet noticed. "All these guys were hitting on me, and all I wanted to do was dance. Is that why I can't get interested in guys?"

"I... hold on for one second. Colette, this is... you're... just take the phone, please?"

The sound of the phone being handed off preceded Colette's voice. "Talk to me, Goose."

"Hey, Colette. I was dancing, and these guys, they kept offering me drinks and stuff, and I just kept dancing. I'm always dancing by myself. Is that why I'm alone?"

"OK," Colette responded, "you are WAY too drunk to be having this conversation. I can hear it in your voice. Where's Irina?"

"Inside. She went to the bathroom. In the bathroom." Michelle sighed, her breath clouding her face as she did so. "I'm here skiing, and she's here skiing, and she's flirting, and they're probably going to hook up... she's hot, and so is the guy she's into. She came up here for skiing, drinking, and boys. She found all three. Am I doing something wrong?" Michelle looked up at the crowd of people moving past her, going to and from the nightclub. "Should I just grab the next guy I see and bang the hell out of him?"

"Banging a random stranger is the worst advice ever. You're hammered. Like I said before you are in no condition to be having this deep conversation about your life. This is a two, three beer conversation and you are WAY beyond that." Colette sighed on her end of the phone. "And don't judge yourself by Irina. She's a party girl. She's Sadie on Pixie Stix. Go home, sober up, and if you want to talk tomorrow we'll be here. Hell, we'll get Sadie, make it a conference call."

"No... no, going to sleep. Ski tomorrow. Feel better in the snow. Didn't mean to bother you."

"You're not bothering us, Michelle. We were up anyway. At the very least will you try to text us when you get back to your room?"

"If I 'member." Michelle rubbed at her face. Her hand felt very heavy while she fought to keep her head steady. "OK. Gonna find Irina. Have a good night."

"You too Michelle. We love you."

"Love you too." Michelle managed to disconnect the call. The cold was beginning to cause her to shiver. She leaned forward, her head towards her knees, trying to keep the world from spinning for a moment so she could stand up.

"Hey," a male voice called out. "Are you..."

She thrust an arm in the general direction of the voice. "I'm fine. Not interested. Just go away."

"I would, except I'd feel horrible leaving you alone." Michelle looked up as her booze-soaked brain recognized the voice in question. Gio had taken off his heavy overcoat and was putting it around her shoulders. "You really shouldn't be outside without a coat," he said.

"Thanks," she said quietly. "What are you doing here?"

"I was barhopping with Garrett," he answered. "He's across the street right now settling the bill. I saw you sitting down without a coat and wanted to make sure you're OK."

"I'm drunk. Stupidly drunk. And stupidly alone." Michelle pulled the coat around her to ward off the chill. "Irina's inside this nightclub. She's probably looking for me right now."

"Give me your phone. I'll text her." Michelle did as Gio requested after unlocking her phone for him. She watched, her vision blurring slightly, while he typed out a message. Almost immediately, he got one in response. "Yeah. She was looking for you." He handed her phone back to her. "Come on, let's get you back inside..."

"Home." Michelle let Gio help her to her feet before she pointed to the lodge in the distance atop the ridge. "Don't want to go back inside. Back to my room. Sleep."

"Yeah," Gio said as he held her upright. "That's probably for the best."

"Hey." Michelle turned her head. The world spun slightly and she had to grip onto Gio for a moment as her double vision slowly came together, letting her recognize Garrett's dark purple parka. "Everything OK?"

Michelle pointed at Garrett. She must have misjudged the distance as her finger buried itself in his chest. "You! You're OK! You're the one guy I can look at and know it's OK not to want to fuck your brains out."

Through her drunken haze, Michelle heard Garrett remark, "She's loaded."

"I know. Look, Irina's inside this nightclub." Gio pointed over his shoulder. "And Michelle wants to go back up to her room. Would you mind taking her back? And I'll see if Irina needs an escort?"

Garrett sighed as he stared at Michelle, who had managed to stand up without Gio's assistance. "We keep running into each other," he said with a forced smile.

"Not on purpose," Michelle said. "Completely by accident. Which is fine by me."

She started to take Gio's coat off, but Gio shook his head and slid it back up her arms. "Keep it," he told her. "I'll be fine."

"You should take it." Garrett was unzipping his parka. "It's too long for her. She'll end up tripping over it." The young men took turns holding Michelle as Garrett helped her slip into his purple parka. "Alright," he said once she was zipped up, "let's get on the shuttle..."

"Wanna walk." Michelle pointed up to the lodge once again. "Nice night. Wanna walk. Cold air might help sober me up."

"You can make it up the hill?" Michelle nodded vigorously. The trio separated, with Gio heading for the front door to Wonderland while Garrett and Michelle turned to walk out of town. "Do you need my arm?" he asked.

"No... yes." Her change of heart came as she almost ran into a wooden pole. "But no funny stuff."

"Fucking... just come on." Garrett offered his arm. Michelle took it and the pair began to carefully walk along the sidewalk. "I promise, I'm not going to try anything. So would you mind knocking that off please?"

"Why wouldn't you try? You don't think I'm attractive?"

"It's because you've made it abundantly clear you're not interested in me. And besides, you're not my type."

"You have a type?"

"Curly-haired brunettes with wicked jaws."

"Just makin' sure. Guys have been hitting on me all night long." She reached over and thwacked him in the chest with her other arm. "Trying to cut it off at the pass, that's all."

If Michelle had been sober she might have picked up on the frustration that was coming from Garrett's body like radio waves. The trip out of town was made in silence. At the bottom of the pathway leading up to the lodge, Garrett adjusted Michelle's grip on his arm. "Nice and easy," he said. "If you're gonna tumble, try to fall towards the snow."

The alcohol, having been held at bay by her dancing, began to finally hit Michelle. The anti-slip strips in the concrete helped keep Michelle upright as she either leaned too far forward or tilted too far back with every step she took. Garrett's arm was her main source of support. At one point her head leaned back. The night sky was a swirl of bright points of light in her eyes, doubled up in some cases. "It's pretty," she slurred to Garrett. "The sky."

"Yeah. It's great to be away from all the light pollution."

"Did moving to Florida kill your cold resistance?"

"You ask this to the guy walking around without a parka?"

"Point," she conceded. "Arizona didn't kill mine. I was afraid it would." By the time they reached the top of the pathway, Michelle was leaning against Garrett in an attempt to stay upright. "I shouldn't have had that sixth... seventh... sixth drink," she corrected. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."