"Here, hold this a sec." Shelby gestured with her chin to the piece of circuit board she was holding up into the framed shell.
Wires protruded from it, connecting into places at the back of the dash board. The family's race car was suspended in the air by a hydraulic lift and Shelby had been futzing with the order of her to-do list all day. Unable to commit one way or another to the body's fortification design, her focus shifted back to the interior.
Nacho put the last bite from dinner in his mouth before wiping his hand on his pants and coming to her side.
"Hurry up, it's too heavy, I can't hold it." She lowered her arms and Nacho caught the board before it disconnected any wires.
"Yep, just like that. Hold it up high." Shelby discreetly put down the soldering iron while he raised his arms further above his head.
"Sucker." She giggled as she lightly pushed her fingers into his ribs.
The look of disbelief and betrayal flashed across his face. He lowered his arms to put the piece down.
"Okay, okay, be serious." She chided as she picked up the soldering iron again.
His nostrils flared as he looked incredulously at her. "Serious?"
"I couldn't help it." She shrugged and pulled the ladder out.
She climbed up to the top, and it wobbled slightly on its uneven legs. Being used to the inferior equipment, Shelby ignored it, poking her head and shoulders inside the shell. She dabbed the tip of the soldering iron on a clean wet rag and began fusing the board back into the protective case.
"Don't tickle me." He said, shaking his head.
"Why? Afraid you'll like it? Or that you'll accidentally have fun?" She jested, giving him a playful sneer.
"So this is why you're taking so long to finish." He said, his tone was more matter-of-fact than cold.
"No." Shelby scoffed. "I'm struggling with how much to fortify and how much to stream line." She finished up, "Okay, you can let go."
He did and put a foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, stabilizing it as she climbed down. Once she hopped off he stepped back. "Hmm." His face hardened in thought and he paced to the front of the car, hands folded behind his back.
"I'm open to suggestions." She leaned against her work station, taking another two bites of dinner.
"Will you lower it?" He gestured to the car.
She pressed the button and in a few seconds the hydraulic mechanism lowered the car back down.
The fortifications were certainly coming along. She had scrapped parts from a diplomat's car, swapping out the wind shield for two pieces of glass from its bullet proof windows. The thick glass was held together by a welded frame and made the whole thing very top heavy. Beside the car waiting in stacks was the dense steel from the reinforced doors, it couldn't be cut down or molded into shape, so Shelby was still unsure how to use it.
He studied the car another moment. "I think," he poked his finger to the center of the thick glass. "Your weak spot isn't here. Leather is strong, sure it can be punctured, but when it comes apart it isn't the center that breaks first." He moved it along the metal joiner holding the two pieces of glass together. "Its the seam."
She considered that a moment. Perhaps using the pieces of the diplomat's car in the way she intended wasn't the smartest move. "What if instead of making the whole car battering-ram safe, I use it more like armor to protect the engine.
"Or protect yourself." He offered plainly.
"Pshh, ill be fine."
Shelby takes the doors from the sides and puts them in front like the point of the triangle in front of the engine block. "Like the front of old trains. Maybe instead of a flat seam, straight across like a bumper, one like this would be stronger?
He remained silent. Thinking to himself as he circled the car.
She moved the thick steel plating and placed it in the front. "What do you think about-" her words were cut off from a chime in Nacho's pocket.
"Sorry." He pulled out the phone and his jaw set firm.
"Let me guess, you have to go." She put a hand on her hip.
He nodded slowly and picked up his trash, quickly throwing it away before he crossed the room, going out of his way to walk near her on his way out.
He stopped and scooped up her hand. "It shouldn't take long. I can still be back tonight if you like."
Shelby sighed through her nose. "No, it's fine. I actually have to go do something for my sister tonight."
His eyebrow lifted.
Shelby put down the wrench and shrugged. "Yeah, she has this club opening. I promised i'd be there."
Nacho furrowed his brow, tilting his head in thought. "Your sister owns a club?"
"No." Shelby laughed, "she's a promoter. She posts it to her social media, hypes up people in the crowd, gets them to buy expensive drinks. Basically a paid party girl." Shelby rolled her eyes.
"Hmm." Nacho's face wasn't judgemental, he simply scooped up his coat. "What club?"
"The Crown and Jester. It's a new place, south towards Paradise. You can join us if you like? I'll make sure Ferra lets you in." She offered.
"Do you have to go?" His expression was a wall but his voice had changed slightly. "I hear it's in a bad neighborhood."
"All the more reason for you to come with." She shrugged with a playful grin. "But don't worry, two of my sisters will be there with me."
"I'll see if I can." He leaned down and moved her hand up, pressing it gently to his mouth.
"So… I'll see you then." She teased, calling after him. Knowing full well she wasn't seeing him again tonight.
"There's no way I'm wearing that." Shelby sat back on her sister's bed, scowling at the binding and shiny dress in her hands.
"Why? You'd look so hot." Ferra continued rifling through her stuffed closet. Pulling things out, examining them with a scowl then cramming it back in the rack.
"Don't you have anything less, I don't know. Sexual?" Shelby struggled to put the leather straps successfully in place to get it back on the hangar. "You have to have something more modest."
Ferra scoffed. "My funeral clothes." She put a finger to her chin in thought. "The black dress is still broken."
"Broken? How did you break it at a funeral?"
"I didn't. Miguel did." She winked and gave a self satisfied grin. "But I've worn this to the last three and I've done very well for myself." She pulled out a dark red bandage dress with a white zipper that lined up the front side.
"Oh my god, I remember you wearing this to Great Uncle Maxwell's funeral." Shelby took the dress, glowering at it. "Why does the zipper start at the bottom?"
"Easy access." She turned back and began sifting through the shoe rack. "Here. I usually wear it with these shoes. I can get them back on in thirty seconds." She held up the strappy sandals with a stiletto point.
"I will wear the dress." Shelby began to squeeze herself into it. Thankful she and her sister were roughly the same size. "Only because it seems to be the one with the most fabric. But I'm not wearing those shoes. I'll take them off and leave them in the cab before we even get there."
"How dare you. They are Balenciaga." Ferra looked at the clock, "I literally don't have time to argue with you." She pulled a pair of platform boots from her closet. They were white patent leather with black soles.
Shelby took them, the heel wasn't too tall and they seemed to be the best option. "No wonder you have such toned legs. These literally weigh ten pounds each." Shelby clomped her feet a few to figure out the balance while being six inches taller.
"Smoke show." Ferra said proudly as she fluffed her curly hair a few times. She stuck her lipgloss into her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
Shelby looked in the mirror and saw Ferra had turned her into a clone. Her makeup was bold and attention seeking like hers, and now with the dress and shoes, Shelby felt distinctly unlike herself.
But a strange feeling bubbled to the surface. She didn't hate it either. Granted it was never an outfit she would have picked for herself, but not wearing coveralls and being covered in grease was a nice change.
"We look so hot." Ferra popped her lips a few times, standing beside her sister in the mirror, admiring her work.
"You actually did a really good job." Shelby leaned forward, admiring the eye makeup.
"Any time." Ferra tittered to herself. "I need hot people in my club, it's literally my job."
Shelby tugged down the skirt of the dress.
"So is your flaky boyfriend coming?" Ferra asked absentmindedly as she futzed with her appearance in the mirror.
Shelby straightened, "he's not flaky."
Ferra gave her sister a sideways unbelieving stare.
"Okay he's not not flaky, he's busy." Shelby shrugged and went over to the bed and sat down.
"I only met him once and that was by accident. He's kinda an asshole." Ferra mused.
Bending over to re-tie the heavy boots so they wouldn't slip off her feet, Shelby scoffed. "Why, because he's the first boyfriend who didn't actively hit on you?"
"Not really." Ferra rolled her eyes, "it just feels like he thinks he's better than people. I don't know."
"I promise he doesn't." Shelby defended.
"He's also not your boyfriend." Ferra added the jab, almost under her breath.
"Taxi's here." Her other sister's voice called from downstairs.
Ferra hurried down the stairs. "I better be calling the fire department when I see you."
"I promise you that's not accurate." Shelby followed closely behind, taking extra time not to twist her ankle walking down. "He's just reserved."
Ferra gave a delighted squeal when she reached the bottom of the stairs.
Mercades was standing in the open door, a power suit made her swimmers frame look long and slender, and underneath the jacket she only wore a bralette that matched the gold of her jewelry and adornments in her hair.
"See," Ferra turned back to Shelby, "she gets it."
Mercades looked at her flatly. "Just because I'm babysitting you idiots, doesn't mean I can't collect."
"Me?" Shelby said, wobbling down the stairs didn't help her case.
"Fine, just this idiot." Mercades thumbed at Ferra.
Ferra pushed them both out the door and locked it behind her. "I'm charging you cover for that."
The taxi pulled onto the street for The Crown and Jester, a line was already formed outside.
"No no, don't stop here. Let us out at the end of the line." Ferra pointed to the far end of the building.
The driver obliged with a confused look on his face and dropped them off at the end.
Ferra stomped with glee as they got out.
"A line is a good sign." Mercades said with a smile as she paid the cab.
Music was thumping inside, and gold and purple lights showed out the thin windows at the top of the building.
"How long do you think we'll wait?" Shelby examined the long line. All the people were wearing clothes that looked like they had come directly from Ferra's closet. Bright colors in highlighter shades, sparkles, pieces of them glowing or lit up in changing patterns.
"Oh, we're not waiting." Ferra took a stride forward and her sisters followed closely behind.
Shelby felt a boost of confidence walking side by side with them. Eyes of the crowd either sneered or recognized Ferra and began to get excited. They continued past the line of onlookers right to the bouncer.
"Hey Estaban." Ferra gave him a charming smile. "Good crowd?"
"A little antsy, but no one's been too rowdy." He offered in a baritone voice as he lifted the velvet rope for them to enter.
"Good." She turned to the crowd and raised her hands. "The party has arrived!"
The crowd livened up and Ferra didn't stay to hear the cheers. She grabbed the arms of her two sisters and walked right inside.
Through a tunnel of changing lights in a checkered pattern, they entered the space.
Filled with people, the club was alive with energy. Thumping music filled the air and bodies moved in rhythm all around.
Unusually, the bar sat in the center, it was wrapped at the top with a golden jeweled crown, where its gems threw changing light in all directions. People gathered around it as bartenders in sexy jester outfits or corsets with short ruffled skirts served drinks with flair.
Wrapped around the bar, the circular dance floor sparkled and looked like people were dancing on a platform of diamonds.
Two DJ booths were at either end, bookended by other smaller bar areas. One side was themed in ornate gold, the other in harlequins.
Up the stairs were the private booths, each with their own throne chairs and a special private bar in the center.
They danced, and drank a little, and after two hours Shelby checked her phone to see no messages.
Ferra's boyfriend Kaito appeared out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around her and hoisting her into the air. "This place is amazing!" His words were thick and slurred.
"I know!" She said proudly and embraced him.
"You do such a good job." He put her down but his arms were still snugly around her "You're so sexy," he began rubbing his hands up and down her waist.
"And?" She said leaning into the touch
"And you can do anything," He began to vigorously kiss her neck, his hand cupping her bottom and squeezing.
"And?" She breathed heavily, wrapping a leg around him, she threw her head back with a smile as he kissed her neck more vigorously, moving his head down towards her cleavage.
"And, oh my god, get a room." Mercades interjected, her arms thrown wide in disbelief.
"Don't be jealous." Ferra glared at Shelby.
"What? I didn't say anything!" Shelby raised her arms defensively. But was thankful for Mercedes interruption.
"I gotta go." He stumbled back. "I'll let you back to work. But I'll wait for you to get home." He kissed her on the cheek and wobbled with every step out of the building.
Ferra examined the club; the DJ was between sets, and in the lull of the performance began to affect the crowd's energy.
"I'm gonna go talk to the manager." Ferra went over to the bar and said something to a nervous man standing beside the bartender. He was wearing a fine suit and looked painfully sober. She said something to him, gesturing out to the club.
The man in the suit shrugged and opened his phone.
A few seconds later the MC entered the booth and called, "half off shots for ladies for the next five minutes." The energy of the crowd picked up as a rush of people flooded to each of the bars.
The manager exited the bar and walked across the club and stopped to talk to two guys.
Shelby continued watching him and was surprised to see one of the men was Nacho.
He was keeping his head down and was standing next to a man she hadn't seen before.
Shelby staring at them must have been obvious, because on her way back to join her sisters, Ferra stopped. Followed Shelby's gaze and locked onto Nacho. A devilish grin on her face, she spun on her heel and made a bee line right for him.
Swearing under her breath, Shelby quickly made her way after her sister. Her mind spun a little when she started walking towards him. A little perplexed that Nacho was there but hadn't let her know.
But Ferra was always one for a scene. And wouldn't waste the opportunity to embarrass her sister, or Nacho, or both.
Shelby fought her way forward, pushing through the crowd towards her sister, determined not to let Ferra sabotage anything.
Nacho looked up from his conversation and made eye contact with Shelby. He quickly looked at the man he was talking with then back at her. His normally stony expression briefly flashed fear and he subtly shook his head.
Shelby stopped in her tracks, unsure what to make of this behavior. But her sister had closed the distance and approached them.
Nacho was wearing a red button down shirt and a thin gold necklace that shined slightly in the low lighting. He looked more dressed up than she'd ever seen him, and was frankly shocked he owned anything besides the polo work uniform from his dad's shop.
Shelby practically shoved through the crowd and stepped in front of her sister, between her and the guys. "There you are. Let's dance!"
Ferra brushed past her, "No. I'd rather talk to them."
"Go away." The man standing next to Nacho shooed away the manager.
The manager shuffled off anxiously, and disappeared through the door in the wall.
Ferra flashed a seductive smile. "You guys want a shot?"
The guy next to Nacho beamed. He was older than him, mid forties with wavy salt and pepper hair. He was dressed with a nice shirt and jeans and his mustache raised into a charming smile. "That sounds like a great idea!"
Nacho looked at Shelby, his eyes fire and storm.
Despite the man beside him being overly friendly, the way Nacho bristled sent red flags up to the ceiling.
"I'm not drinking." Nacho said, practically through grit teeth.
Shelby pulled lightly on her sister's arm. "See, they don't want to drink. Let's go dance."
"Don't be rude, Ignacio. These lovely ladies want to buy us a drink. Let them." He clapped Nacho hard on the shoulder with a jovial expression.
Ferra returned the charming smile and turned to the bar, leaning her elbows on it as she tilted forward.
Shelby gave Nacho an apologetic look and turned away with her sister. "What are you doing?" She whispered harshly.
"I want to get to know him." Ferra said, her tone was innocent but her eyes said murder.
But before Shelby could say anything else, she felt a pressure on her lower back as the man came up and stepped between them. His hand placed gently on both their backs as he too looked for a free bar tender.
Shelby felt his hand travel lower towards her tail bone and saw he was doing the same to Ferra. But her sister either didn't notice or didn't care as she relayed her order to the bar staff. Pointing to bottles on the bottom row of the bar.
Shelby turned her head and saw Nacho, his body rigid with tension, and fists clenched with white knuckle grip. Staring daggers at the hand placed on her.
Mercades finally caught up to them and said in a motherly tone. "Please don't run away again."
The mustached man said something in Spanish and his eyebrows rose in pleasant surprise. "You three come in a matched set? Bella, bella, bella." He said as he took in the three of them.
The shots arrived and Shelby was quick to throw hers down.
"This is Shelby. Mercedes, and I'm Ferrari." Her sister held out the back of her hand delicately to the stranger.
"So what's the story?" He smiled and took her hand kissing it for a long moment.
"Well." Ferra looked at Shelby expectantly, but when she remained silent she said sarcastically, "ohh, let me tell it."
Shelby pursed her lips, and Mercedes took the shot. Unamused by her sister's antics.
Ferra pointed as she said, "oldest, missing, middle, me." She pointed to Mercedes, then Shelby, then a cutesy point to herself.
"There's four of you?" He said, pleasantly surprised, taking them in again.
"The Andretti sisters of the Andretti racing family." Ferra added with a fake curtsy.
The man put a finger to his temple, "Ahh, hence the car names."
Mercedes shrugged as if this was old news and she'd already grown tired of talking about it.
"Well, my friends call me Lalo." The man took the shot and grimaced with displeasure at it. "So you, you, and you." He pointed at the three sisters, "can call me Lalo. But he can't." He laughed as he put his arm around Nacho, shaking him loose from his stiff posture.
Lalo's eyes moved slowly over them and something about it made Shelby's skin crawl.
From the outside Lalo was charming, warm, and his presence commanding. It was Nacho who was acting stiff and disinterested. If it hadn't been for the way Nacho was acting, she probably would have never picked up on it.
Her sisters certainly didn't.
In fact, Mercades had moved to the other side of the group, standing next to Lalo. She leaned on the bar with her elbow and casually allowed her jacket to fall open slightly, exposing her lack of shirt underneath. "So why isn't he your friend?" Mercedes asked playfully.
"Oh, he's killed too many people." Lalo said so flippantly and with a charming smile that both sisters both burst out laughing.
But the comment made Nacho look like he might crack a tooth from clenching his jaw so hard.
Shelby leaned back, unsure of what to make of it. She looked down at his clenched hands and the fading scabs that dotted his knuckles. She'd always assumed it was from work, having had more than a few scraped knuckles from the job. But she was slowly questioning where he'd gotten them.
Lalo lowered his head and leaned close to Mercedes, he said something in her ear and she chuckled lightly to herself.
Ferra seemed to sense Shelby's discomfort, raising an eyebrow and her voice, she chanted. "More shots, more shots!"
"Half off for ladies is over," the bartender said, shaking a silver canister.
"No problem. Ignacio will take this round." Lalo said his tone light. "But not that bottom shelf." He gestured up to the top and held out his palm for five.
Ferra leaned towards Shelby whispering in her ear, "this is great, I get commissions for top shelf drinks."
The bartender carefully poured five shots and slid them over to the group.
Nacho was the only one who didn't immediately reach for his.
Mercedes was locking eyes with Lalo and they took theirs together.
While Lalo wasn't looking, Nacho tipped the shot onto the bar mat, wrapped his fingers around the glass to obstruct the view of it being empty, and pretended to drink from the empty glass.
Shelby was still unsure what to think of his odd behavior, but she knew she wanted to leave.
Ferra threw hers back with a gleeful whoop. "Come on, come on!" Ferra tilted the cup to Shelby's lips and she forced it down.
"Ooh, I have an idea. One more round?" Ferra asked, turning to Nacho with a smile.
"Of course!" Lalo answered for him, slapping his palm on the counter. "Five more!"
"Tequila, with salt and lime." Ferra added.
Lalo looked at her pleased. "I know just the one." He put his arm around Mercedes as he leaned towards the counter, pointing to a pale blue bottle on the top shelf, a copper flower stopper sparkled under the light of the bar shelf.
"You sure? It's $75 a pour." The bartender asked before retrieving it.
"Ignacio doesn't mind." He put his other arm around Nacho, squeezing firm a moment.
"It's fine." He answered coolly. His lips pressed tightly together.
Everyone watched the bartender retrieve the bottle and assemble the shots.
But Shelby was watching Nacho.
His expression was hard as granite, and his eyes dark and distant.
Ferra grabbed a cut lime wedge from the small plate and turned to the group. "Ladies first." She ran the pulp up and down the length of Mercedes neck, then put salt on the newly wetted surface.
"Go ahead Lalo." Mercedes said invitingly.
Lalo beamed, "Don't mind if I do." He put his mouth on Mercedes neck, slowly moving up to her ear. His hand on her waist tightened and a sensual smile spread across Mercedes face.
Lalo then threw back the shot and bit down on the lime. "Now that's a Michoacano margarita."
"My turn." Ferra said, putting the lime and salt just below her collar bone. "Nacho, will you do the honors?"
Lalo's facade cracked a moment and he looked at his companion, he smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He asked something quickly in Spanish.
Nacho simply shook his head.
Lalo's attention turned to Ferra, his eye contact unbreaking with her as he asked. "How did you know his nickname was Nacho?"
To Ferra's credit she didn't skip a beat, and answered with an aloof tone. "My friend dated a guy named Ignacio, we all just called him Nacho." She leaned in, poking a finger into his chest, "you would have hated him. A real flake." Her tone went prickly at the end.
Lalo watched Nacho out of the corner of his eye, and when Nacho's expression yielded nothing, donned his charming smile again. "Then it is your turn." He put a hand on the back of Nacho's neck, pushing him forward.
"No, I'm good." Nacho said simply, his eyes cast downward.
Ferra made a fake pouting noise as she held out the lime wedge.
"Do it." Lalo smiled at his companion, but the grip on the back of Nacho's neck tightened.
Nacho's body went rigid again as he pressed back against Lalo's grip.
But Lalo's tone remained jovial. "What are you waiting for?" He gave a charismatic gesture to Ferra.
Shelby couldn't take her eyes off him as something in his body relented to the force. Skin on the back of Nacho's neck had white finger marks from Lalo's grip, but it quickly faded back to pink.
Nacho took an uneasy step forward and put his lips to Ferra's skin.
Boiling heat came from somewhere in Shelby's belly as she watched his lips purse against her sister's collar bone.
Lalo burst out laughing and turned to Mercedes, "Finally, we're all having a good time!"
Nacho quickly pulled away, discreetly poured out the shot again and pretended to take it. Finishing with the lime wedge before chucking it harder than necessary into the jumbo trash can behind the bar.
Shelby ground her teeth and aggressively took the shot and bit down on the lime. Glaring daggers at her sister.
Mercedes whispered something in Lalo's ear and it made his face light up.
"Oh really?" He said and his other hand landed at her waist. "We'll be right back."
Lalo took her hand and she followed him up the short staircase to the private tables at the top.
"She really shouldn't go with him." Nacho wheeled around to face Shelby, the hard shell finally cracked, and worry and fear had surfaced from underneath.
"What the hell was that?" Shelby put a hand on her hip.
"Yeah, wha-" Ferra started to interject, a smug self satisfied grin on her face. But her words were interrupted when Shelby planted a hand into her shoulder and shoved her away.
Shelby pushed hard and it took a few steps for Ferra to recover from the force.
"Hey!" She shouted, and several other patrons had now turned their attention to the commotion.
"If you don't walk away right now, so help me." Shelby pointed a finger directly in her sister's face.
"Whatever." Ferra rolled her eyes. "You're welcome for the dress, the cover fee, the drinks, and all the other shit I gave you for tonight." She said, flipping the bird as she strut away.
Shelby whipped on her heel to face Nacho. "What's wrong with you? Who is that guy?"
Nacho peered up the stairs and once satisfied he looked back at Shelby. "It doesn't matter. But your sister shouldn't be with him."
Shelby squared her shoulders to him, finally not so short with the help of the platform boots, she could almost meet his gaze straight on. "I don't mind that you like your privacy. I feel like I've been pretty chill about you leaving at the drop of a hat all the time. But kissing my sister? What, to impress Lalo? What's the deal between you two?"
"I can't tell you." He sighed through his nose. "I'm sorry. But you need to get your sisters and go."
"No." Shelby folded her arms. "Despite me hating her right now. I'm here to support her. And I'm going to dance, and buy more drinks, and dance some more, and take a taxi home, and I can do all those things without talking to you."
Nacho rolled his shoulders back as he clasped his hands behind him. "Please let me pay for your taxi."
"Settle up?" The bartender called from behind them.
Nacho nodded and silently held out his hand for the tab. He looked at it, cleared his throat at the number of digits, and handed the woman a stack of bills. "Keep it."
"Thanks." The server said with a pleased smile and walked away.
"I don't want you to pay for my taxi. I wanted to dance with you." Her use of the past tense was deliberate.
Nacho looked hurt by the words, but recovered quickly.
"No, we don't have time to dance." Lalo had appeared behind Nacho and clasped him on the shoulder. "Let's go."
Shelby looked behind him and saw her sister wasn't with him. Her heart began to beat quickly. "Where's Mercedes?"
Lalo waved her words away.
Shelby looked further past him and to the stairs, still not seeing her.
Lalo put his arm around Nacho, steering him towards the door, and began speaking quickly in Spanish again.
Shelby swore under her breath and turned in a slow circle, surveying the undulating crowd for her sister.
She saw across the bar Ferra was talking to a group of barely legal girls and pointing to things they were wearing with a broad inviting smile.
"Mercedes!" Shelby shouted, failing to get her voice above the DJ who had just dropped a loud beat as he announced his entrance.
Lalo and Nacho were now gone, and Shelby began to walk towards the stairs to the private floor.
The bouncer at the bottom held out his hand, stopping her from ascending. "Invitation only."
"My sister's up there. I need to get her." Shelby craned her neck, unable to see a familiar face.
"Sure she is." He turned his attention to above her head, effectively signaling he was done talking to her.
Shelby's heart picked up. She began to make her way towards the crown bar at the center, maybe she could get a better vantage from there. She called her sisters name over and over as she weaved through the crowd.
The DJ switched songs to a rhythmic drumming and the lights proceeded to drop.
"No. No." Shelby started using her elbows as she forced her way through the crowd. Visibility waning with each step.
Music was competing with her pulse for which would make her deaf first. She shouted for her sister again to no avail.
The music started to come down and the lights shifted to a pulsating red and purple.
"Hey, you looking for someone?" A guy said, his words a little slurred. "Is it me?"
"Get lost." She pressed past him and weaved her way past the dance floor towards the bathrooms. She shouted her sister's name a few more times, each one met with stares and sneers from other club patrons.
Panic was starting to set in. She looked around for Ferra and didn't see her either. Swearing over and over as she walked as quickly as she could to the bathroom.
The platform boots gave way under her a few times and her ankle felt a sharp twinge in protest.
She finally reached the bathroom and flung the door open. "Mercedes!" She bellowed. The music was substantially softer in the restroom than in the rest of the club and the difference of her screaming into the bathroom startled two girls fixing their make up at the sink.
"Oh my god, what?" Mercedes came out of the stall, her lipstick smudged around her mouth.
Shelby ran over to her, wrapping her arms around her sister. "I'm so glad you're okay!"
"How drunk are you?" Her sister pried her arms off and headed to the sink to wash her hands.
"I'm not. Well, I don't know." Shelby admitted. Three shots in and she was feeling the effects. "Where did you go? Are you okay?"
"I was getting his number." Mercedes gave her a wink, "that guy is fun." She looked startled when she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. She laughed and pointed to her smudged lipstick, "lots of fun."
"I don't think that's a good idea." Shelby offered her sister a paper towel.
"Why?" Mercedes wiped off her lipstick and applied another coat.
Shelby stammared and couldn't think of a legitimate reason to give. "Nacho said that guy was bad news."
Mercedes looked down her nose at her, "Really? Your boring, secretive, non-committal boyfriend– who isn't actually your boyfriend– said he didn't like the person he is friends with?"
Shelby opened her mouth to say something and closed it. She couldn't offer a single reason against it besides, "I don't think they're friends."
"Wow." Mercedes put the lipstick tube back in her pocket and straightened her jacket sleeves. "So what, then?"
"I don't know." Shelby held her arms out wide, as if trying to pull an answer from the air. "But I don't think you should hang out with him."
Mercedes fluffed the curls in her hair, her lips were pressed into a thin line. "You're just mad because of the thing with Nacho and Ferra."
Shelby took a step back. "Okay I am mad about that, but this has nothing to do with that . Just… don't, okay?"
Mercedes turned, squaring up her shoulders. She raised her chin and looked down at her sister through narrowed eyes. "I'm used to getting shallow, childish excuses from Ferra. I don't tell you how to live your shitty, falling apart, life. Don't pretend you know what's best for mine."
Shelby gaped at her and couldn't muster words as Mercedes knocked into her shoulder with her own on her way past, and stomped out of the bathroom.
Hot angry tears burned in Shelby's eyes and she blinked them away. She practically had whiplash from being so scared to so hurt in just a few seconds.
She pulled out her phone and sent a text to her sisters. "I'm going home."
Then a text to Nacho, "don't bother coming back to the shop tonight."