21

“ Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who did not hear the music.” Angela Monet
A smoky haze floated throughout the air in the bar packed with sweat covered bodies. Adrienne’s energy seemed to catch hold of the smoke and pull it toward her so that when she walked the smoke followed. She wandered out to the tiny dance floor with a Smirnoff Ice in hand and Jamar close behind. Turning to face him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her mouth down the side of his neck. He ran his hand down her arm and took the Smirnoff bottle. “I think I should hold onto this for a while.” Adrienne reached for the bottle, but he held it over her head. She ran her hands down the front of his shirt, stopping where it hung over his jeans. “It’s just a Smirnoff. Even you drink more than that.” Deshawn held her gaze firmly. “No.”
Pushing away she made her way through the bodies to the bar. How she got on top of the bar was unimportant. What mattered was only that she was up there, which, in Deshawn’s eyes, was just as bad even if she hadn’t begun to dance. He stared transfixed at her standing on top of the bar, swaying her hips to an unknown tune, and running her hands along breasts that he felt were for his eyes only. By the time he made it to the bar Adrienne was no longer wearing a shirt. Dollar bills were flying when he grasped Adrienne around the waist from behind the bar and pulled her down to the floor where he stood. He briefly exchanged glances with Marina, the bartender, who had caught Adrienne’s shirt when she flung it off. Taking her shirt from Marina, he loosened his grip on her waist and attempted to put her shirt back on her. As soon as his grip loosened, Adrienne fell backwards against the wall. Marina held her up so Deshawn could finish the job. She looked at Deshawn critically. “How many did she have before she got here? Don’t you have any sense at all? When she’s here with Hadassah I don’t make her drinks as strong. Hadassah drinks enough for the both of them put together.” He stared at her for a moment, and then shifted his gaze back to Adrienne. “C’mon baby girl. We’re going home,” he said as he guided Adrienne out the door by her shoulders.
Tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, Adrienne lunged forward, and she would have hit the concrete had Deshawn not caught her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.