“I’ve got to…go.”
I tried to act normal, but before I knew what was happening I was angling my way through the crowd elbows-first, ignoring sharp voices in my ears and shoves against my back, and the guy who shouted, “FUCK YOU!” as I pushed past. I shut it all out until I’d forced my way past every obstacle and the front door was swinging closed behind me.
I focused on breathing, since I didn’t have the strength for anything else. I barely had the strength for that, as it turned out, and I had to bend forward, my hands on my knees.
Two men on their way into the club leaned down and said something to me. I tried to wave them off, but they lingered. They were asking if I was okay, but they weren’t asking in a particularly friendly way.
“She’s fine,” a voice said above me. Tammy’s voice—I could hear the smile in it. She was charming them, the way she charms everyone. “I’ve got her. You can go on in.”
The men shuffled away. I wanted to stand up, act normal, but I couldn’t lift my head.
“It’s okay.” Tammy’s hand dropped lightly to my shoulder. The feel of her touching me, the sound of her saying my name, nearly made me choke. “Just breathe.”
I wanted to tell her I couldn’t, that that was the problem, but my throat swallowed the words.
“She all right?” The new voice was husky with cigarettes and something thicker. Midge Spelling was out here, too. As if I hadn’t been humiliated enough already.
“I don’t know.” Tammy kneeled and looked up at my sweaty, probably purple face. “Sharon? Can you stand up? I’ll get us a cab.”
Hell no. If I had to share a back seat with Tammy, I’d never breathe again.
“Uh,” Midge said above us, “no offense, but I think you’re making her worse.”
Tammy pulled away. With her out of my space, my eyes fell closed, and I managed to gasp in a breath of air.
“Do you think she needs to go to the emergency room or something?” Tammy asked. I twisted up to look at them out of the corner of my eye. Midge was wearing a man’s button-down shirt with a pleated skirt that was about two feet shorter than the kilt I wear to school, with black boots laced up to her knees.
“Nah, I’ve seen this before.” Midge exhaled slowly. Of course, she was smoking right next to me while I could barely breathe. “I’ll stay. You go back inside.”
“But—”
“Trust me. She’ll be better off.”
Tammy’s feet shifted on the sidewalk as she considered what to do.
Listen to Midge, I silently begged her. Go away, Tammy. I can’t function when you’re this close.
“Well…” Tammy touched my shoulder again. I flinched. “All right. Sharon, I’ll wait by the bar. Come find me when you’re feeling better, okay?”
Somehow, I bobbed my head, bending back down toward the pavement. When I heard her shuffle away, I finally managed to take in a little more air.
“She’s gone,” Midge said a moment later, blowing out a stream of smoke above me. “You can get up now.”
Did she think I’d been faking it? I twisted my head back up as Midge popped her cigarette into her mouth again.
I flattened my hands against the greasy wall behind me, slowly pressing my upper body into a slightly less horizontal position. I didn’t know if it was Tammy’s absence or Midge’s judgment that had changed things, but she was right—I could get up. My chest kept heaving, though.
Midge didn’t look at me as I staggered to my feet. She was gazing coolly at the line of traffic rolling down the dark street in front of us, her free hand tapping out a quick rhythm on her hip, her skirt swinging with each movement.
“It’s okay, you know.” Midge exhaled a long stream of smoke. “I don’t think she knows you’re mad at her. Assuming you’re trying to keep that a secret.”
“I’m not mad at her.” I sighed. Those were more words than I’d thought I’d be