Free The Oracle of Dating by Allison van Diepen

daiquiris.
    “Tonight is going to be wild,” Ryan informs me.
    “All your master plan, right?”
    “Uh-huh. Drink up.”
    He doesn’t have to convince me. I get a buzz going after the first drink. Yes, I’m a cheap drunk. Then I switch to water because I don’t want to pass out on his couch at seven. That would not be conducive to having a good time.
    We laugh and gossip and sing along to music. We do one another’s hair and makeup. We take silly pics to post online.
    Around ten, Ryan announces that we’re heading out.
    “Where are we going?” I ask as we pile into a cab.
    “As if we’re going to tell you!” Sharese fluffs my hair.
    We go over the Manhattan Bridge and end up in a shady-looking part of the Meatpacking District.
    “You can let us out here,” Ryan says to the cab driver.
    They’re fumbling for cash to pay the driver. I go into my handbag and Sharese slaps my hand away. “Don’t even think about it.”
    We follow Ryan around the corner. The neighborhood is looking no less shady. We lock arms. Ryan is walking farther and farther ahead of us.
    After a couple of blocks, he runs back. “We’re here. Ready with your IDs?”
    I see them pull laminated cards from their handbags. Holy crap—they’ve got fake IDs!
    Amy hands me mine.
    “How’d you get these?”
    “Chad has a contact.”
    I study the ID. Whoever Chad’s contact is, he obviously has access to the Hunter College student ID template. Do you really think the bouncers are going to let us in with these?”
    “If we don’t blow it, they will,” Ryan says. “They don’t care if you’re underage as long as you have some ID. Now, let’s go.”
    My stomach does a little flip as we walk toward the entrance. There’s a big door with the number 257 on it. Ryan knocks and the door opens.
    A huge bald guy with a goatee looks us over. I’m so nervous I feel my knees knock together. His eyes stop on me. Damn it! My baby face is going to blow it for us!
    But his gaze moves on. “ID?”
    One by one, my friends give him their ID, he looks at it and lets them go in. I’m last and having heart palpitations.
    He takes my ID and asks me, “When’s your birthday?”
    “Uh—today!”
    “Happy twenty-first.”
    “Thanks!” I rush past him and join my friends. They’re all paying the ten-dollar cover charge. I reach for my money and this time it’s Viv who slaps my hand.
    We walk down a flight of stairs. I can feel the heavy pump of music beneath us. At the bottom of the stairs, we go through a steel door. “Holy mother of—”
    It’s a massive underground storeroom transformed into a pimped-out club. Bloodred lights cast an eerie glow. The music is deafening. I don’t recognize the song, it’s just a solid hard beat. The dance floor is packed. There isn’t much in the way of seating, only a few chairs, but then, this isn’t a place for sitting.
    Ryan snaps his fingers in front of my face. I must’ve been looking around like an idiot. “Drink?”
    I nod, then hug him tight because I’m so happy to be here.
    I can’t believe it’s my sixteenth birthday and I’m in a real club! This isn’t one of those alcohol-free teen dance nights we sometimes go to. This is the real deal. Most people look like they’re actually legal.
    And there are a lot of cute guys around. At least, I think there are. It’s hard to tell with the lights flashing.
    My friends pull me onto the dance floor and we all lose our minds. The music is fast and frenzied. The beat pours through our blood and makes us dance with the spineless funk of jellyfish.
    Ryan puts a drink in my hand and I guzzle it as I dance. I have a buzz from the music and the booze. There’s a guy on the dance floor who keeps bumping into me. Can’t he watch where he’s dancing? Wait a minute—now he’s grinding behind me. And he’s actually pretty cute. I turn and we’re dancing together. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, catching the scent of his cologne. He smells good. Not