Club Dusk… the one place I’d always wanted to go but never dared. I let Iah’s announcement sink in, my stomach twisting with excitement and the uneasy feeling that I was about to cross a line I couldn’t uncross.

"Are you kidding me? I couldn’t possibly go… it’s too much!" I stammered, keeping my voice low. Part of me didn’t want my parents to overhear, but another part knew that saying it out loud—owning the desire—would make it impossible to deny how badly I wanted this.

The truth was, the idea thrilled me more than I cared to admit. A rush of excitement and trepidation bubbled under my skin, a feeling I hadn’t had in what felt like forever. But letting Iah and Val see that? My stomach churned with guilt. I was supposed to be content with my life. So why did a club with such a scandalous reputation call to me so strongly?

"Don’t pull shit or bullshit, Leni. We’ve known for ages that you’ve wanted to go." Iah’s wicked grin deepened. "We thought tonight would be perfect. Club Dusk is doing an ‘80s punk rock theme, and Howl by Night are playing!" Her honey-brown eyes twinkled beneath her glasses as she smirked, practically vibrating with excitement.

I sighed. I guess I was more of an open book around them. Can you ever truly hide your desires from your friends? A night lost in the seductive beat of music, that yearning pulse radiating to the part of your soul that burned, desperate to be free—that sounded like freedom. But what would it mean if I let that part of me out? An image of Carter flashed in my mind: his expectations, the argument, and my restless longing for something more. Maybe Club Dusk was exactly the distraction I needed.

My phone vibrated on the desk, interrupting our conversation. I looked down and saw it was Carter calling. Right on cue… I thought bitterly.

I leaned over the desk and sent him to voicemail. Seeing his name light up on my phone made my chest tighten, like I couldn’t breathe, and that kneejerk reaction to push him away was the answer I’d been searching for. I turned to my best friends and smiled at their curious faces.

"Alright, let’s do this!" I shouted with a little more enthusiasm. I was determined to avoid any conversations about Carter. I didn’t need a reminder of what had happened between us earlier.

Both Iah and Val squealed and jumped over to hug me. I couldn’t help but be swept away by their excitement. So I laughed alongside them, feeling a weight lift.  I needed this. I needed a break from everything—the visions, the responsibilities, my parents… and Carter. When was the last time I truly did something for myself? So, this was going to be my treat… going to a completely infamous club… in the dodgiest part of the city… should be fine, right?

I shook those thoughts out of my head and began to focus on the task at hand.

"So, what are we going to wear?" I asked.

Val raised an eyebrow and said, “Iah and I are already dressed. The theme is 80s punk rock, and Iah looks like something out of a 90s hip hop video.”  That was when I noticed that Iah was wearing a black cropped leather jacket paired with a light blue cropped corset top. She matched the blue with light blue ripped skinny jeans and black biker boots. The colour really brought out her mocha skin as she confidently showed off her abdomen, which, though slightly toned, still had a soft curve to it. Every part of her outfit accentuated her unapologetic curves, and I always admired how she owned that.

As for me, I was all about hiding behind oversized cardigans, leggings, or t-shirts with snug jeans – comfort always came first.

Iah completed her look with gorgeous medium-sized silver hoop earrings, matching necklace chains, and bangles. Her wild deep espresso brown locks were braided tightly on the left side, hugging her scalp, while the rest of her hair cascaded freely on her right side.

Iah’s eyes narrowed as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing her chest toward Val in defence. “Excuse me? I’m sorry, but I’m more on theme than Miss Gothic Showgirl over here, prancing around in her granny’s curtains,” she sniped back.

I took a good look at Val’s outfit. She wore a sheer, long-sleeve burgundy top underneath a very dark red velvet mini dress. The sleeves puffed out at the cuffs, giving the ensemble a dramatic touch. The neckline plunged so deeply that I wondered if the sheer top underneath—and sheer determination on her part—was all that kept her from being exposed. The collar and cuffs were adorned with black velvet lace, adding an elegant contrast to the rich colour.

Her striking light blonde hair cascaded in soft waves, like a classic Hollywood starlet. Her bangs were gently curled, framing her heart-shaped face perfectly. Her lips were painted the same deep burgundy shade as her top, matching the look effortlessly.

She wore simple black sparkly teardrop earrings, with no other jewellery. The outfit was finished off with dark red velvet heels, completing the sophisticated yet bold vibe.

I couldn’t help but agree with Iah’s dig about her looking like a Miss Gothic Showgirl, but I dared not let that show on my face—less I face Val’s wrath…

Val’s cheeks flushed pink, and before she could respond, I stepped in. “Easy, you two, save the bickering for later.” I smirked.

Iah stuck her tongue out at Val, and Val dramatically flipped her hair and scoffed.

They were always like this, always trying to wind each other up. Trust me, they’re really good friends, and they do care about each other. This was just their bizarre way of showing it.

“Okay, let’s see what I have in my wardrobe. I’m sure I can muster something up.” I started to walk toward the wardrobe, but Val grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me down onto my bed.

“No, no, no, darling.” She waved her finger in mock disapproval in front of my face. “Did you honestly think I was going to let you walk into the club of your dreams wearing an ancient, ragged Fuse shirt, ill-fitting flannel, faded jeans, and worn-out sneakers that have seen better days?” Val scrunched her face in exaggerated disgust.

Okay, so I had a comfort phase in high school, but dang, Val didn’t have to out me like that. She wasn’t finished, though. “Elena, you’ve got such a gorgeous figure. It’s practically a crime to hide it under all… that.” Her eyes softened slightly, and she smiled. Val was the only person who could insult you and somehow build your confidence at the same time. I felt heat rush to my cheeks as I smiled back shyly.

“Girl, you still listen to Fuse?!” Iah broke the moment with a giggle. I ignored her while responding to Val.

“Well, what did you expect I was going to wear last minute? Maybe I have something I can dig out from the attic, but I’d have to ask my dad to go up, since he knows where the old clothes are.” I then turned quickly to Iah and hissed quite dramatically, “What do I look like a casual listener? Of course, I still love Fuse, they are legendary. I REFUSE to outgrow them!” I then turned back to Val and blanched. I’m pretty sure I saw Val’s eye twitch. She placed her hand to her temple and exhaled. Iah snorted with laughter, “Leni, I think you broke her!”

Val then spoke to Iah. “Iah, please can you go get the bags I left downstairs? I need to talk some sense into our girl here.”

“Yes, madam” Iah responded in a posh accent. She was gone in a flash. I looked back up at Val and smirked, “What? Did you bring something for me to borrow?”

“More like bought.” Val replied while she tapped her foot impatiently.

“Val, you didn’t have to do that! Besides, I don’t think where you shop has my size – I’m bigger than you.” I held up my hands in protest.

Val rolled her eyes and smirked. “Elena please. I’ve worked with all types. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t get something that wasn’t adjustable?”

“Yeah, just make sure she doesn’t stick you in one of those high-fashion catwalk disasters,” Iah was back, with a high-end shopping bag and overnight bag in tow and right back into teasing mode. “You know, that one she sported last fall, looked like fabric vomit.”

I burst out laughing, while Val placed her hand on her chest in mock offence. “Fabric vomit? Oh sweetie,” Val said, her tone laced with playful superiority, “this is why you will never be allowed to attend my shows. That ‘disaster’ you’re referring to? Manoë’s fall/winter collection. Haute couture, darling. Haute!”

Iah grinned wickedly, “Sure, haute couture. More like someone with the skills of a toddler went wild with a glue gun!” I was giggling as I could see Val started to crack with laughter. Heh, she was losing this one because I know she hated that dress. She managed to compose herself and her eyes glimmered with amusement as she tilted her head. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Iah. But don’t worry – I won’t let it ruin my shine. I’ll make sure to send you signed photos from the next high-society fashion show I’m starring in.” She blew a kiss and winked at Iah.

Iah rolled her eyes. "You can have your high society; I’ll keep my sanity, thank you."

Val snorted, which had both Iah and me laughing. Val then joined in, her laugh echoing with the rest of us.

Suddenly, we heard a knock at my room door. We paused, and I called out, "Come in!"

My dad’s red and grey frizzled head popped through the door, and he smiled shyly.

"Alright, ladies?" There was a chorus of replies from all of us. I noticed Iah had slowly moved the bag behind her.  "Listen, your mom and I wanted to order you something from Row’s for old time's sake. What do you say?"

The shrill of our excited responses was probably deafening for my poor dad. He smiled shyly again before pulling out a notepad and pen. In the end, though, he didn’t need it. He knew our favourite toppings by heart.

“If I remember right, Mariah likes sweetcorn, tomatoes, and spicy chicken. Valerie, you were just plain Margherita with basil. Eleanore, are you happy with The Works, as usual?”

I nodded. The Works for me meant pepperoni, green peppers, black olives, but no onions.

Iah chuckled. "I can’t believe you remember after all this time, Mr. J."

“I can’t believe we’re such creatures of habit,” Val chimed in.

“It’s not a bad thing. You like what you like,” my dad replied with a shrug.

Going to or ordering from Row’s Pizza had always been a tradition for anyone who lived in Waterow. In fact, when Val moved to our high school in our fifth year and it looked like she was going to become part of Iah and me’s bubble, the first thing we did was take her to Row’s. Nestled among some small businesses a couple of blocks from my house, just as you hit the main road, Row’s was a little hole-in-the-wall pizza joint. It sold pizzas by the slice or full pizzas to go. They still had the old arcade games, and I had a blast introducing them to Val. Iah and I always enjoyed the fighting game most. We’d pick the same female character, which triggered an automatic colour change for the second player. We never had games with our initials in the high scores disaply—we were honestly terrible—but that never stopped us from having a good time. Row’s was the place for after-school meet-ups and hangouts. We’d laugh, cry, vent our frustrations, and stuff our faces with no shame. These were the things I missed the most about us. Perhaps my dad knew this, which is why he offered to grab it for us. Then it hit me.

“Dad, can you order us all pink lemonades too? Please?” I called just before he closed the door. We always ordered pink lemonade—again, creatures of habit—but Row’s had the best.

“Yes!” Iah shouted. Val had a strange smile on her face, biting her lip. My dad smiled and nodded.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said with a smile and a nod of appreciation. He winked back and closed the door behind him.

“Oh my god, Row’s! It’s been ages since I had a slice,” Iah added. Val gave her a look of disbelief.

“Excuse me, darling, but wasn’t it you who said that for a night out like this”—she made quote marks with her fingers—“eatin’ is cheatin’?” Iah shrugged.

“There are exceptions to every rule, and Row’s is one of them. Besides, when was the last time you had a slice?” Iah demanded. Val’s shoulders slumped a bit and gave a small smile.

“It has been ages for me as well,” she admitted. I smiled at both my friends, feeling the nostalgia settle in. I could tell they missed Row’s as much as I did. We gabbed for a bit about the past while eagerly waiting for our pizza.