“That night was crazy,” she recalls, without a trace of nostalgia. The truth was, dumb as it sounds, she’d just wanted a normal prom night. She wanted to feel, for once, before she was no longer a teenage girl, like a teenage girl. “Sometimes I hate this city,” she says. “Sometimes I hate what growing up here does to you.”
All night long at Cain, the men come and go, buying drinks, paying compliments, attempting to dance, asking for numbers. The guy in the preppy blazer whom Sophie hooked up with at Lotus comes over for one more attempt, suggesting they all get a drink sometime soon—like maybe in the next hour, maybe someplace quiet. When it’s clear that he’s not going to get a repeat performance, he finally says good-bye.
As the crowd thins, the bill arrives: $900. “What the fuck is this?” demands Audrey. Apparently someone ordered a third bottle, which has barely been touched. The girls had hoped that the college boys in their entourage might pay for the liquor, but they’re refusing. And the girls have only $200 in cash. “We will call the police,” the manager says sternly, ignoring the fact that if the police are called, it’s the club that will be in real trouble. Audrey thinks about those nights out with the married guy, the one Sophie’s ex-boyfriend lived with, how men like that always paid and generally treated the girls with chivalry, like grown-ups. For now though, she’ll have to be a grown-up, sort of, and take care of things herself. She makes cute faces, professes ignorance, apologizes. Eventually, her antics get the third bottle removed from their bill. In the meantime, Lana and Sophie are over it. They yawn dramatically, leave their money with Audrey, and head outside.
“Whatever,” says Sophie. “I’m tired.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” says Lana. “We should go out.”
Kiss-kiss. And good-night.