4.5 Part One: Dancing Til Dawn

    "Woo! This awesome." Holly shouted. It was twelve-ten am Friday night- or Saturday morning to be accurate, and so far our date was going amazing. By amazing I mean we'd both had two shots and Holly's alcohol tolerance was incredibly low. I wouldn't ever take advantage of someone when they where in her current state- she was just a very fun, party animal, tad stupid drunk. Much better then the mean violent ones. "Let's get this party started!"
     "Yeah!" I shouted over the music. The club was a bit on the rough side- tattered chairs covered in stains, rusty door, and the bathrooms that looked like hadn't been cleaned in forever; they probably hadn't been. Holly was screaming and luckily hadn't begun dancing on tables deciding that this dance club was now a strip club. I'd stop her long before that happened, of course.
     "Wanna get a drink?" She asked me over the blaring music.
     "Sure."
     "Commme on." She grabbed my arm, pushing through the crowd to get to the bar. "Barrrtennder two drinks. Whatever yaa gottts."
     "Right away." That was the one advantage of having Holly- the hot, tipsy if not completely drunk, blonde. Guys seemed to give her whatever she wanted; they let her go ahead when they've been waiting for forever, and they hardly complained when she ended up sloshing vodka all over them (and her light colored lacy, barely covering anything top). "Here ya go." He handed her two drinks that where a neon violet color.
     "How muchchch?"
     "No charge. Wouldn't want to ruin your fun."
     "Thankss. Parker, hollldd these." She thrust the drinks in my direction. The bartender paled, as if he was just noticing that she was here with a date and free drinks wouldn't get him anywhere.
    "Here." I handed her her glass once she was stand still, stable. I took a gulp, as the concoction burned down my throat.
    "This is goood." She swayed in time with the music.
    "Wanna dance more?"
    "Whatdya mean?" She giggled.
    "You're- oh, nope." She was dizzy from the alcohol, not trying to dance. On second thought, let me take that. I grabbed the cup from her hand as she pouted, protesting.
    "It's my thirrd onnne onllyy. Gimme."
    "Holly, you can handle alcohol as well as my great grandmother could- not very well."
    "Fine. You meeaaannss though." She began walking away, stumbling over her heels.
    "Holly! Holly- here." I turned to some stranger, handing him our drinks. "Hold this."
    "Dude. Nice one ya go there."
    "I'm not doing to- Holly!" I rushed over to her- she had fallen down and was currently leaning against an incredibly muscly man who was getting a treat considering how far forwards she was leaning. "We should be going." I took Holly's arm and placed it around my shoulders.
     "Dis nice mammmn gonna show me hisss rocket." She giggled. 
     "Seriously?" I glanced at him. "That's what you say to her?" He shrugged and turned away.
     "We gonna dance?"
     "We're sitting down."
     "I gonna dance whille youu seat and watchh."
     "No, you're going to sit and sober up."
     "Parkerrrr," She leaned against me. "I gonna dancey wancey."
     "No, we're going to sitty witty."
     "Finnne. You smarrrt. I dooo what youuuu sayy."
     "How do you feel?"
     "Good." She fell onto the couch- she was laying down. "But myy headdd huuurtts."
     "We should get you home." I didn't know where her home was, though. I couldn't stick her in a cab without knowing something about her. The last thing I needed was her rambling some address off and ending up in the bad part of town with no one to help her.
     "I cann go after wee part-TAY."
     "Where do you work?"
     "I'm unemppployed. I- hehe!" She laughed. Something was incredibly funny- and I was missing it.
     "What's funny?"
     "Oh, I don't gots a job. Buuut, I readd lots. I usually go to library and I work someeee thereess."
     "The library. Alright. That's going someplace."
     "Someplace...yes! Let's go to the libraryy! Nopey- nopey. Mee go hommme. You come witth."
     "Holly that sounds great. Really, really, really, really, really, really, really- what are we talking about again? Oh yeah. Really great. But we can't."
     "Why notttts?"
     "You're drunk."
     "Me notttt drunk."
     "Yes, you are."
     "Haha! I'm not drunk..."
     "Who's the president?"
     "George Clooney."
     "What- he- Clooney? He never even was a president, he's an actor. You know, Gravity?"
     "See, you drunk, not me."
     "Do you mean Washington? As in George Washington? Or Bush maybe? Because both those answers are wrong- real presidents, but wrong."
     "Nope, nope..." We continued chatting and dancing, until it was five am- the club's closing time. Holly was sobered up, lucky for me; I wouldn't have to stick her in a cab and hope for the best.
     "I had a great time." I said outside the club, as the sun began rising.
     "Me too." She smiled at me.
     "You know, you get drunk as quick as you sober up."
     "Should have warned you. My heads going to kill me in about three hours, though."
     "Soup." 
     "Huh?"
     "I've found that it's great hangover food- surprising, right?"
     "I should try that sometime. You're so nice..."
     "Thanks...you're incredibly humorous when drunk."
     "What did I do?" She leaned closer to me.
     "Said George Clooney was president. And Paramore was a type of angle, not a band.  And Adele was a computer."'
     "Gaw- I'm really, really stupid!"
     "Only when drunk. Besides, you only confused pop culture with... not pop culture stuff."
     "I haven't drank in awhile."
     "Awhile?" Oh please don't let this be the first time. Please let her be twenty-one.
     "Four months." My nervousness was let out in a huge sigh.
     "Hold old are you?"
     "Parker! Never ask a ladies' age."
     "Sorry, sor-"
     "Twenty-five."
     "Thank goodness."
     "What? Why is that good?'
     "I was worried you where like eighteen."
     "Thank you."
     "That was a compliment?"
     "You thought I was eighteen. Of course that's a compliment."
     "I...I..."
     "Parker." She quietly said, leaning even closer to me; we where practically touching. "Don't speak. Just...you're so nice. And kind." She stumbled into me, as her lips touched mine.
     "Holly." I quietly said, once she pulled away.
     "You didn't kiss me."
     "I did."
     "No...it was me kissing you. We weren't...it wasn't like a spark."
     "Are you still a little drunk?"
     "Maybe." She chuckled. "You taste good, though." Defiantly a tad bit tipsy still.
    "Holly, I like you. We can't begin like this."
    "We won't begin like this.We'll...we'll...Parker. Kiss me."
    "Holly...we're both drunk, probably. It's getting early. I should head home."
    "But...but..." She leaned on my shoulder. "Parker, I want to see you again."
    "I want to see you again, too."
    "My cab." She pointed to the yellow car. "I need to go." She walked away, giving me a little wave. Something great almost happened. Something would have, if both of us had been a little more sober and the day was still a little earlier. Now we'd have to wait to see if it'll come around again.
     She sat in her cab, waving goodbye to me. She rode away, into the distance. Her cab was pulling us apart. I didn't know her last name, address, or cell number. I had no way of contacting her. I sighed, as I began the trek. The trek to find a cabat a time where all the drunk people began disappearing form the streets so the sober businessmen and woman could rule Bridgeport, turning it from a party place into a second Wall Street. I sighed, riding home in my cab. I stared out the window, wondering. Holly. I know we'd see each other again, I just didn't know when or where. But I wished it was soon, and it was. Sooner than I thought it would be.