“Oh. There he is.”
Nico walked out, appearing as fashionable as a cover model. He looked as though he belonged in a boy band, which had always been Donovan’s type. She preferred the pretty boys who dressed as though they were always headed to the next after party.
Donovan flashed him a coy smile as he walked around the security guard.
“Hey, Donovan. Good to see you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pouted. “I thought you were going to wait outside for us.”
“I know. Just so busy,” he said, and nodded to Violet, which was the only gesture he made to make sure she felt included. “Why don’t you come on inside? It’s packed.”
Violet could hear the frustration from the tourists lined up outside the door. She felt a pang of guilt as the security guard stepped aside and she followed the couple inside. The music felt like a second heartbeat the moment she stepped into the club. The lights flickered all throughout the dance floor, which was jammed with groups dancing. It felt as though she’d walked under the ocean, with blue and green lights streaming throughout.
Violet kept her eyes on the back of Donovan’s head, doing her best not to lose her in the crowd. Nico led them up a set of stairs, up towards a balcony with separate booths set up for VIPs. She could see a group of people at the table Nico was leading them to, which made her feel as though she wanted to leave already. It was too loud to talk to anyone and she didn’t recognize anyone in the group as they approached. Donovan was already waving to everyone as Nico led them to the table, moving her body to the music as it thrummed through the air.
“What do you guys want to drink?” Nico asked them loudly while rounding the table. “We’ve got vodka and cranberry and tequila shots.”
Violet stared at the booze in the ice bucket. Two already opened sixty ounce bottles sat chilling among the ice. There were red cups along the edges of the black round table with half-drunk alcohol in them. The cranberry juice was nearly finished, which meant that her drink would be made of mostly vodka. Still better than tequila.
“Let’s do tequila shots!”
Violet opened her eyes wide at Donovan, who had her arms in the air as though she’d said something worthy of celebrating. Violet couldn’t keep herself from asking, “You sure you want to do tequila shots?”
Donovan leaned in closer to Violet. “What?”
It didn’t matter. Violet would just do the shot. It was just alcohol, and there was no point in complaining on a fun night out. She didn’t want to be that person. “All right. Set me up for a tequila shot. Is there salt and lime?”
Nico pulled out a few small plastic shot glasses from beside the ice bucket. Violet cringed at the thought of downing tequila; it always had a bitter hot taste that scorched down her throat. She hated the taste of tequila. She’d just do the one shot, though, because it was like Donovan said - they only had two days left in Greece. Might as well live it up while they could.
Donovan handed her one of the shots and they cheered their shot glasses together. Violet smiled and brought the shot to her lips and winced as the taste burned down her throat. She could feel the warmth entering her chest immediately. Despite the liquor’s harsh taste, the world already felt more exciting.
Violet took a seat at the booth, barely able to overhear the conversations of the two guys and girl next to her. There were about five people she didn’t know, though she included Nico in that grouping. He’d barely spoken to her since he and Donovan had met. Violet was used to fading into the background when it came to guys Donovan was interested in. Whenever Donovan met someone that caught her eye, it would be entirely about them. It was just part of her personality.
“What brings you to Greece?”
Violet turned her head to the young man next to her. He was quintessentially European, and she could only assume that he was French. His accent was barely audible against the loud techno music that was playing. “I’m touring the country with my friend.”
He leaned in close, and she could smell the alcohol from his breath. “How long are you in Greece for?”
“We leave in two days.”
He pursed his lips at her and she could see that his pupils were dilated, barely allowing for her to see the color of them. “Such a shame! You and your friend are so beautiful.”
Donovan handed her a drink and winked at her. Violet grimaced, not wanting to speak to the young man who was too close for comfort. “Thank you,” she said to him, forcing her voice so loud it was becoming grating to her throat. “What’s your name?”
“Pierre. And you?”
“Violet.”
“Like the flower,” he said, and grinned at her, as though he’d said something revolutionary. “Pretty like the flower too. I see you’re dressed like a true Grecian tonight.”
She wanted to leave. Violet inched a little further away from him, uncomfortable with the way his hand was grazing her shoulder. “Yes, I thought it was appropriate.”
“You American?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “Both me and Donovan are.”
She took a swig of her drink and breathed out quickly. There was definitely more vodka than cranberry juice poured in her cup. She lifted her eyes to Donovan, who was busy dancing with Nico. Violet pushed herself even further away, nearly at the edge of the booth, as Pierre brought his hand further down her arm.
She was unsure of what to say. Making a scene would only cause Donovan to fly off the rails, but having this guy try to seduce her when she wasn’t interested made her wholly uncomfortable. She tapped her foot against the floor and brought her arm closer to her chest so that he’d get the message.
“You know, a lot of the world hates Americans,” he yelled in her ear, causing her to shift her head away from him. “But I don’t. See, I love Americans. You are all so loud and crazy. It’s such fun.”
He didn’t know a thing about her. Stereotypes didn’t make for a great conversation and Violet was growing weary of the others at the table. It seemed to her as though they had ingested something illegal, based on the way they were feeling the leather booth beneath them and acting erratically, speaking over each other and randomly waving their arms in the air. Donovan appeared unfazed. Violet wasn’t sure if she didn’t care or simply didn’t notice.
“Listen, I think I’m going to get my own drink,” she told him, trying to smile her discomfort away. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t go! We were just getting to know each other.”
Violet lifted herself from the seat, continuing to smile so he’d assume she’d be back. “Sorry. Not a fan of Vodka.”
She escaped him and the table and stopped when she reached Donovan, who had her arms around Nico’s neck, swaying while in his arms.
“Where are you going?”
“To get a drink. That Pierre guy is really creepy.”
Donovan rolled her eyes. “You say that about everyone. There’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting, you know.”
Violet wanted to tell her that they were obviously all on drugs, but that would only make things worse. She shrugged and placed her cup down on a nearby table. “I want something different to drink. I’ll be back.”