There was something uncontrollable about music. No matter how well-planned or plotted each note was there a feeling of…wildness. Something primal. It pounded out a fast, heavy beat that willed bodies to give in and they did. Drunk on adrenaline and with pulses racing, people let go. That was one of the things Kira loved about dancing; if your heart was in it then it didn’t matter if it was graceful or simple or random. It was exhilarating and freeing all the same. The music was a heartbeat and it brought the club to life. It made the wolf in her sing. Normally, such energy couldn’t be ignored--normally she’d be crackling with energy as if the very notes were rushing through her veins--but tonight…
“Stop thinking about him,” John admonished as he eyed a dark-haired man who stood at the bar not too far from them. “He didn’t call you back.” He looked over at her and smiled that perfect, dimpled smile that never failed to win him hearts, “His loss, girly.” He shrugged and, in his carefree, rolling with the punches way she had always been jealous of, said, “Que sera sera.” Then added, “We didn’t take you out to mope.”
Kira knew John was right. So she had liked Justin and he hadn’t called her back. It happened; that was life for you. Being miserable wouldn’t change any of that. Except…she couldn’t seem to get the pesky thought that she had really liked him out of her head. John grinned at her again and this time she couldn’t help but return it. “You’re right, I guess,” she agreed. “Kinda pointless, huh?”
“Good! Now order yourself a drink while I go help myself to that,” he nodded toward the man he had been checking out earlier, “tall glass of water.” Grinning, he waggled his eyebrows at her and walked away.
Shaking her head at her friend’s antics, Kira turned to the bar to order herself a drink.