Becoming Sarah (6 page)

I wrote out a check to the landlord, using Sarah’s past bank statements as my guide, then added $200. I hoped that would take care of the late fee; if not, I was sure to hear back from the landlord.

By the time 10:30 rolled around, I felt more in control. Still, my stomach turned double somersaults as soon as the intercom chimed. Matt had barely known Sarah, and he’d guessed something was different. What would her close friends think?

I buzzed them in.

A blonde girl in her mid-20s, almost painfully thin, in three inch heels and a gold halter top, came bounding up the stairs. “Quelle catastrophe! Sarah – what are you wearing?” she shrieked, in the accent I recognized from her phone message.

I glanced down at myself. I hadn’t changed out of the skirt and shirt I’d picked out that afternoon. I’d thought it would be fine for going out. Apparently not. “Um, I was just going to change."

“I should hope so!”

Another girl, also scantily clad, came up behind the first. She was Asian; her stick-straight hair hung almost to her waist. She wore shiny black leather boots that laced up to her thighs, a microscopic miniskirt, and a see-through chiffon blouse.

“God, Sarah, I hope you’re not going out like that,” she said.

“She’s changing, don’t worry.” Aurélie ushered me toward the bedroom. Sh
e flung open the closet door. “
What shall you wear?”

I sh
rugged. “Help me pick something
?”

Aurélie
pulled out a plum-colored strapless dress with a fringe on the skirt. “What about this?”

The other girl leaned against the doorframe. “She wore it last week.”

“So. Liza says no to the dress. What else?” She held up a pair of black tuxedo pants. “Yes, good. And perhaps. . .” She rifled through Sarah’s blouses and chose a skimpy silk camisole. “This, I think.” She tossed me the outfit, then rooted around in her purse for a packet of cigarettes. “So, darling, put it on. We have places to go, people to see.”

As I changed, Aurélie lit h
er cigarette and took a puff. “Beautiful,”
she exclaimed, when I finished.

She tossed me a pair of shoes, heels with straps that wound up around my ankles. I put them on.

“Good,” Liza said. She dug into her purse and came up with a tube of lipstick. “Try this.”

I leaned close to the mirror and applied it awkwardly. The lipstick was a deep blood red. I’d never worn anything like it – Chapstick was more my style – but I liked the effect. It made me feel bold and a little wild, utterly unlike my old, boring, unglamorous self.

Aurélie picked out a tiny beaded black bag to go with my outfit. I stashed my wallet and keys inside.

“Ready?” Aurélie asked.

“Ready.”

“You’re driving, right?” Liza asked.

Panic closed my throat. “What? Me?”

“Come on, why not? It’s a pain finding a cab this time of night.”

Why not indeed? Only that I didn’t know where Sarah parked her car, and I was far from confident in my ability to drive it.

I let Aurélie and Liza lead the way out of my building. They headed down the block, straight toward a sleek black convertible parked at the curb. Liza plucked a slip of paper of the windshield. “Forget to move the car for street cleaning?”

“I guess so.” I took the parking ticket and stuffed it in my bag before I hit the button on my keychain. The car beeped; the locks shot open. I climbed into the driver’s seat, my heart in my throat. Liza got in the back seat. Aurélie slid in beside me.

The engine started easily with the turn of my key. I eased out onto the street. Driver’s ed felt like a distant memory. Thank God there wasn’t much traffic this time of night. “Where to?” I asked.

Aurélie named a club downtown. When I gave her a blank look, she sighed. “We only go every weekend, Sarah. You can park in the garage at Fifth and Mission, like always.”

I did know where that was – next to the Metreon, a
bunch
of shops and
a
movie theater. I drove there carefully, and so slowly that some guy in a car behind me honked in frustration. I also managed to forget about a one-way street, and had to go all the way around.

“At this rate, it’ll be dawn before we get there,” Liza complained.

“You drive like an old lady,” Aurélie added.

This was hard enough without the constant stream of criticism. “So one of you drive next time,” I snapped.

They both burst out laughing. “Ooooh, she’s in a mood,” Liza said.

Aurélie nudged my shoulder. “Fighting with Nick again?”

“No, actually. Everything’s fine with Nick.” Though, come to think of it, he’d never called. “I just saw him today.”

“Mmm. I’ll bet.” Aurélie nudged me again. “How much of him did you see, exactly?”

My cheeks burned hot as I flashed back to Nick’s visit. “Enough.”

“Wonderful
. So he’s finally left his wife?”

We were in the middle of a block, but I slammed on the brakes. The car behind us screeched to a halt just in time, and Liza let out a shriek of fear.

“His wife?” I choked the words out. Blood roared in my ears.

“Of course, his wife,” Aurélie said calmly. “You said last week that you wouldn’t sleep with him again until he left her. Of course, you’ve been saying that for almost a year.”

Cars behind us were honking furiously. “Go, go,” Liza yelled, right into my ear. “Do you want to kill us all?”

I drove, but I barely saw the road in front of me. How could this be? Nick, the perfect boyfriend, married?

I made a right into the garage and parked in the basement. Aurélie and Liza led the way to the club; I trailed behind. First I was crushed, then furious. Furious at Sarah, for getting herself into this situation. Furious at myself, for blindly forgiving him when I didn’t know why they’d fought. Furious at Nick, for being lying, cheating scum.

At the club, the bouncer checked our ID – as Sarah, I was legal – and let us in. Liza grabbed my arm. “Hey, Sarah, you don’t mind covering this, do you? Aurélie and I are both pretty strapped for cash.”

“Sure,” I said, still in a daze as I handed over a hefty wad of bills. We plunged together into a dark,
crowded room throbbing to a DJ’s
beat. Strobe lights threw out a dazzle of rainbow colors. So many people, such loud music – I’d never been to a club before, only high school dances, and I felt out of my element. At the same time, though, I picked up on the current of excitement, t
he sense of possibility, and
my body swayed in time to the music almost against my will.

“Come on, let’s get a drink,” Liza shouted. Aurélie took my hand and pulled me toward the bar.

I felt a stab of alarm. I’d had a beer once, at Maria’s house. We stole it from the fridge and shared it in her bedroom. We’d reeled around the room, flopped on her bed, and pretended to be drunk. But even then I’d had my qualms. Alcoholism was genetic. All my life I’d vowed I wouldn’t turn out like my mom’s.

Aurélie put her lips to my ear. “What are you having?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

She motioned to the bartender. “I’ll have a martini, and a cosmopolitan for my friend here.”

“No, Aurélie, I. . .”

She thrust the drink into my hand. Liza ordered and I paid for us all. I eyed my plastic cup suspiciously, then sniffed it. It smelled like grapefruit juice.

“Drink up,” Aurélie urged.

My head swam already from the pounding music, the bad news about Nick, and my hopelessly screwed up life. What could one drink hurt?

I took a tiny sip, then another. The vodka burned my throat a little going down, but the drink itself tasted cool and sweet. Better yet, it melted the lump in my throat and the knot in my stomach.

Nick, married? It had never even crossed my mind that he might be. In high school, nobody was married. They might see someone on the side, or cheat with some girl they’d met in
online
, but this seemed far more serious. Sleeping with a married man? How could Sarah live with herself?

She couldn’t.

That thought brought me up cold. I could hardly lay this all on Sarah when I had only myself to blame. I’d let my hormones lead me around by the nose, only to end up with an aching heart and smashed dreams. Next time, I wouldn’t be so naïve.

“Hey, look at those three guys over there,” Liza yelled over the music. “The one in the blue shirt’s pretty hot, and I think he’s checking me out.”

I looked. They were hot, all right, and they were eyeing all three of us. Liza grabbed my arm. “They’re coming over here!”

One of the guys – tall, with dark hair – leaned on the bar beside me and bared perfect white teeth. He said something I couldn’t make out.

“What?”

He leaned in. His breath tickled my ear. “What are you drinking? I’ll buy you another.”

His friends were already flirting with Aurélie and Liza. He smelled good, some expensively woodsy after shave. I opened my mouth to point out that I still had most of my first drink left, but when I glanced down I saw that the glass was nearly empty. “No thanks,” I said instead.

“Want to dance, then?”

I did not. While I’d gone to a few school dances, I’d stayed on the sidelines. Maybe as Sarah I was less clumsy and awkward, but I didn’t feel like testing that theory. I shook my head. “Not right now, thanks!”

“Then I hope you don’t mind if I just stand here and admire you.” He grinned. “I told my friends they had to let me talk to you first, since you’re the most beautiful girl in the room tonight.”

How could I not feel flattered? Here was a great-looking guy, presumably single, interested in me. I smiled back. It was all the encouragement he needed. He introduced himself as Chad. He worked for an advertising agency. He owned a Porsche. He liked German philosophers, wine tasting, and adventure travel. At some point, I let him buy me that second drink. Liza and Aurélie left to dance with the other two guys. Chad was telling me about his last kayaking trip in Malaysia. My eyes kept glazing over. The music was too loud; it hurt my ears.

Aurélie and Liza appeared next to me. “Come on,” Aurélie said. She grabbed my hand and dragged me away from Chad. “This place is
boring
. Let’s get out of here.”

Chad and his friends trailed after us. They thrust business cards into our hands. “Bo-oring,” Liza complained, when they were out of earshot. “I hear there’s a new club
in SOMA that’s got a much better
crowd.”

We stumbled outside, where Aurélie hailed a cab. A few gulps of fresh air helped clear my head. We piled into the taxi, then out again a few minutes later. Aurélie and Liza waited while I paid the driver. This club had a long line, but Aurélie knew the bouncer and he let us right in.

This club was darker, with even louder music. Everyone wore black, plus heaps of black eyeliner – men and women both. I bought us all another round of drinks.

Halfway through a glass of white wine, I started to relax and have fun. Guys came up to us here, too, except these guys had goatees, tattoos, and tongue rings. The one who ended up next to me shouted in my ear about some performance art piece he was working on, where he cut himself with a razor onstage and then bled on a piece of white canvas. He got very excited explaining what it all meant. “It’s about our fear
s and desires
,” he yelled. “It’s about death and rebirth!”

“Sounds great,” I said, and noticed with interest that my tongue tripped over the words. My stomach didn’t feel quite right, either. I eyed my drink. Was it my third, or my fourth? Maybe I should slow down.

I looked around for Aurélie and Liza, but couldn’t find them. The room kept spinning. “Excuse me,” I said to Razor Boy. I staggered off in search of a restroom, where I promptly threw up in a toilet.

I felt a little better after that, but I badly wanted to go home. I located Liza in one of the darker corners, where she was making out with a man who’d shaved his head and had a dragon tattooed on his scalp. “I need to leave,” I told her.

She looked annoyed. “It’s not even late.”

“I’m sick. I threw up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like I needed to know that. Can’t you hang out here another hour or so?”

“I want to go.” I felt green around the gills again. I clutched my stomach. “Where’s Aurélie?”

“I have no idea. Why don’t you get a cab home?”

“You won’t come with me?”

She had the grace to look faintly guilty. “Come on, Sarah. Don’t spoil the night for me, too.”

I had no choice but to wobble out to the street. I got into a yellow cab, gave the driver Sarah’s address, and leaned back in the seat. If I kept my eyes closed, it wasn’t so bad. If I took deep, careful breaths, maybe I wouldn’t vomit again.

I felt sick as a dog, and angry to boot. Some friends Sarah had. They expected her to pay for everything and didn’t even care when she – I – got sick. I could die in a gutter, for all they cared. Maria would never treat me this way.