“Have you ever even had whiskey before?” Rebecca asked, rolling her eyes.

 “I think you should try sex on the beach,” Ashley called over from where she was on the opposite end of the coach.

My mouth dropped open in astonishment. 

“You’ll like it,” she said.  “I can never get enough it. It always leaves this deliciously sweet taste in your mouth.”

“Uhh….”  I was jaw-dropping, wide-eyed speechless. 

‘The drink, Spence,” Cindy said, giggling with the rest of them “Sex on the Beach is a drink.”

“Oh, yeah, I –I knew that.” I stuttered, trying to recover.  But by the amused looks on everyone’s faces, including the guy, I knew no one believed me.

“Sex on the Beach it is,” he said smiling.  He handed us all wrist bands, before walking away.

“What are these for?” I asked Cindy who was sitting next to me.

“You don’t do the club thing much do you?” she asked.

“That obvious, huh?” I replied, tugging on my dress to cover more of my thighs.

“Yeah, a little bit,” she smiled. “It’s a 21 and up wrist band, so we can get drinks.”

 “How are we getting drinks anyway?  We didn’t even get a chance to show our fake ID’s yet!”

“Oh my God, Spencer,” Karen said. “Could you say that any louder?”

“Sorry…” I said, hanging my head in embarrassment. 

Karen had given us all an ID before we left. I was a little excited about showing mine, just to see if I could pass as 24-year-old Millie Mae Crocker who, judging from the picture, looked about 50 pounds heavier than me.  I had this great story worked out about how I was Jenny Craig’s next Valerie Bertinelli.

A waitress came back with our drinks, proving Ashley right.  Sex on the Beach was deliciously sweet.  The other girls downed their drinks, but I savored my first taste of alcohol. 

“Oh, this is my jam!” Rebecca jumped up and yelled when Lady GaGa’s Just Dance blasted through the speakers.  “Break time over bitches, let’s go.”

All of them jumped up with her, but I wasn’t budging.  The club was packed and I didn’t need to show a room full of people how bad of a dancer I was.