The Girls at the Kingfisher Club

He was like a song she’d heard years back, played again in a quiet room; there was no telling if the song was any good, or if she only remembered it fondly because of the person she’d been long ago, when she heard it first.

It frightened her how deep her sobs could reach, as if someone was pulling sorrow from her bones.

You can’t expect people to give you the things you love, unless you know how to ask.

The girls were wild for dancing, and nothing else. No hearts beat underneath those thin, bright dresses. They laughed like glass.

He watched her like he had come home after a long absence and had missed her most of all.

She caught him looking at her a lot that night, in a way she wasn’t used to seeing. A lot of gents looked at you a certain way when they were guessing their chances for a kiss (zero), but this wasn’t it. He watched her like he had come home after a long absence and had missed her most of all.

I promise not to step on you—I only look like a clodhopper,” he was saying when Jo reached them. He winked at Ella, who glanced away and blinked, as if surprised that he’d come so close to guessing what she thought. Jo slid up to the bar behind her sister, planted a stiff arm on the ledge, and raised an eyebrow at him. He glanced up and saw her. She expected him to blanche, or bristle, or pretend he’d just forgotten someplace else he had to be. A lot of men did that, when they realized that the girl they thought was alone had brought friends to look out for her. But instead he only said, “Oh,” softly, his smile so wide and earnest that crows’-feet appeared at the edges of his eyes; he smiled as though she was an old friend, as though he had been waiting for Jo a long time and was delighted to see her at last.

Then she set it aside. (She set everything aside. There was some hollow place inside her that few and grew.)

She sighs, breathing smoke through her lips. "Might as well dance.

When are you going to get a fella?" Lily asks Rose after a year or two of dancing. "I have one who wants to take me kissing, but I think I should wait for you to have one." Rose flushes. "I don't think I'll ever have a fella." "Why not?" Lily bristles. "We're plenty pretty." "I don't like the look of them," Rose says. Lily purses her lips at the dance floor, appraising. After a moment long, Rose says, "Any of them." Lily looks at her a long time, as Rose tries not to hyperventilate. Then Lily shrugs and says, "Well, then it's you who should have learned to lead, isn't it?" and when Rose clasps Lily's hand, she clasps it back. It's the closest they've ever been.

Lou was last, and she stopped next to Jo long enough to pluck her cigarette holder out of her mouth. “You meet the nicest people in the clink, Jo. I should have figured something was up. Were you planning to hit the road with him in your fancy frock after the party?” “Oh, I don’t think he’d look very good in my fancy frock,” said Jo, and moved to catch up with the rest.

No need to worry about loving one when all of them would be back tomorrow night.

Better to kiss boys she doesn’t really like. She sees how badly it can go; no thank you.