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is my mother’s subtle way of saying she wants me to come home.
    Knock...Knock .
    “How’s it going in there?” Joey asks through the do or. “Don’t get like Clarissa!” he jokes. “Or the two of you will never leave the dorm!”
    I hear Clarissa whisper to him , and I suspect it’s about me and my mental state.
    “I’m fine!” I yell back and close my email window. “I just have to o many clothes to pick from!”
    There is whispering again. I don’t want them conspiring or worrying about me.   I reach for the door handle and fling the door open fast.
    “ I have superhuman hearing you know. I’m. Fine.” I say quickly. Joey and Clarissa are standing there, shame-faced.
    “Oh please! These doors are paper thin. A ninety year-old without their hearing aids could hear through this door,” Clarissa says with a sarcastic grin recovering quickly from my confrontation.
    “I. Am. Fi ne. Help me pick something to wear!”
    “Geesh, don’t get all huffy.” Clarissa prances into my room and over to my closet.
    “Don’t take all night,” Joey says and walks away to wait for us in the living room.
    *****
    California weather is alw ays comfortable to me. Being from the Northeast, I’m used to quick weather changes and needing a coat in the spring. We finally settled on a dress of all things, clingy material with a halter-top. Clarissa and I don’t carry pocketbooks because we like to dance and Joey won’t hold them for us: he’s accommodating, but he draws the line at purses.
    The club isn’t too far away; it’s only about a twenty minutes drive. This is the closest club to the school. Any other one, and we would’ve had to drive for at least an hour. Clarissa and I always get in because Joey uses his “charm.” Occasionally, we run into other students from our school who have fake ID’s. Clarissa and I look fairly young, though. We could pass for eighteen, but twenty-one? I don’t think the bouncer would fall for it. Joey isn’t quite there yet either, but he knows how to grease the system.
    Even with the car windows up, you can feel the vibration of the club’s music thumping. Joey swings into a snug spot near the entrance. A long line of people are huddled along the sidewalk waiting under the glow of street lights to be let in.
    “Here we are! Who’s ready to dance?” Clarissa sing-songs.
    Inside, it’s wall-to-wall bodies and that makes me nervous.  I think it stems back to my recent trust issues.  Crowds don’t generally bother me too much, but tonight seems exceptionally packed.
    Clarissa does her trade-mark bounce to the bar. She orders two bottled waters.  Joey secures a stool over to the side where he can have the best view of the dance floor, tables, and exits.  His view is going to be obs cured by all these people here tonight. If I wasn’t wearing these spike heels, I would be blind in here.
    Clarissa hands me one of the bottles, and we work our way over to Joey. The crowd thickens as we move, and we have to slip our bodies between groups of people. A girl from our school tugs on Clarissa’s shirt to say hi. Clarissa gives a wave, and we continue on.
    From this distance, I can see that Joey is on his phone. How he can possibly hear anything in this place is beyond me. The music thumps, blasting out all of our eardrums.  The dance floor has grown bigger due to the amount of bodies.  People are dancing in the walkways and by the bar.  I’ve never seen it like this.
    As we finally approach him, Joey motions for us to go dance and he mouths have fun .  He must be doing some mob business.  We plop our water bottles in front of him and take off into the jungle of dancing bodies.  Clarissa leads us right to the middle.  It’s a little bit of a fight, but we get there.
    I let go. I allow my body to move with the music.  Clarissa takes my hand and we jump and shout to each song.  We get silly, hyped up on the atmosphere of the club.  Our favorites are played one after the