GROW UP GINGER

A story about leaving and being followed.

Written by Juliana Resende

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No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the prior written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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CHAPTER FOUR — The Club

There was a line.

Of course there was a line. The four of us joined the back of it and I tried to look like someone who belonged there, which is its own particular skill. The girl in front of me had a tattoo on her shoulder. The girl behind me had blue lipstick. I had a fake ID that called me Anna Marie Vasquez and said I was twenty-one, and my hands wouldn’t stop sweating.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I whispered to Megan. “What if they don’t let us in?”

“We’ve come this far. Just use the fake ID and we’ll be fine.”

The bouncer was a man who looked like he had been bored for many years in a row. He took our IDs, glanced at them, glanced at us, and frowned.

“This doesn’t look like you.”

“I dyed my hair,” Megan said, with total conviction.

He looked at mine. Then at me. Then back at the ID. There was a long pause during which I was certain we were about to be turned away and I would spend my birthday weekend watching whatever movie was on at Megan’s house.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Go ahead.”

He handed the IDs back. We didn’t run, but we walked very fast, and the second we were inside, the bass hit us in the chest like something physical. Megan whooped. Bonnie grabbed my hand. Olivia was already halfway to the dance floor.

It was working. I was inside. I was eighteen tomorrow and I was inside a club for the first time in my life and the music was so loud I could feel it in my teeth.

I felt brave for the first time in months.