"Listen, Daria, I am so sorry about the other day," Suzette said. Or, she would have said if they hadn't been in an overcrowded nightclub with booming background music. Instead, Suzette shouted her apology across the table.
Daria had to lean over the table to hear what her co-worker said. For the twenty-third time this evening, she told herself this was a terrible idea.
Suzette had insisted on taking her out for drinks after she asked Daria out during their lunch break. Daria didn't know why she said yes. She didn't like Suzette, and she didn't want to give her the wrong idea. However, Suzette had been so earnest, and Daria admitted to herself, so pathetic, she felt she had no choice to say yes.
Daria wasn't a lesbian. Even if she were, she wouldn't be attracted to Suzette. She hated to use the word (again), but Suzette was pathetic. There was something so needy about her, so clingy... you couldn't help but feel badly for her, and Daria didn't want a relationship with anyone, man or woman, who was a pity project.
So, what are you doing here? She shook her head at the question she asked herself. "Listen, Suzette," she shouted over the music. "I have to go. It's getting late." Daria gestured at her watch. "I need to be up early tomorrow."
"Let me get your drink!" Suzette shouted in reply. Before Daria could protest, Suzette hopped off the stool and rushed to the bar. Daria debated slipping out before the other woman came back. If she left, the next day at work would be awkward; Suzette would ask her in that wounded voice where she went and why she hadn't waited for her drink. Also, Daria didn't want to make Suzette pay for a drink that would go to waste. That was mean, especially with the increased cost of living nowadays.
Daria sighed and stayed put. You're too nice, she said to herself. After this drink, she was leaving, she decided. She'd thank Suzette, politely but firmly explain she wasn't interested in dating women, and go home.
Suzette returned faster than expected, considering that there was a throng of people surrounding the bar. She handed Daria a drink in a tall, thin glass. It was dark in the club, though Daria thought the liquid in her glass looked blue. Her heart sank. She hated sugary girly drinks. If she had been ordering, she would have gotten wine.
"It's the nightly special," Suzette shouted in her ear. "The bartender said it's really good!"
The words of Daria's grandmother echoed in her ears: "You can't say you don't like it until you've tried it." Daria took a sip. It wasn't as bad as she thought. The drink wasn't too sweet. She detected a hint of berries -- not syrup, but real berries, slightly tart. The alcohol wasn't overwhelming, either.
"This isn't bad," Daria shouted at Suzette, who was still standing next to her. Suzette grinned broadly and gave her a thumb's up.
It was halfway through the glass that Daria started to feel dizzy. The darkened club spun around her. Suzette moved in circles around her stool. "Are you okay?" Suzette asked. Her voice was distorted, as though she was speaking into a tinny microphone. She put her hand on Daria's back.
Daria closed her eyes. Maybe if she did that, the room would stop spinning. "Put your head down on the table," Suzette urged. Daria did as she was told. Even with her eyes closed and her head down, it still felt as though she was inside her washing machine's spin cycle.
"Do you feel sick?" Suzette asked, concerned. Her hand stayed on Daria's back. It felt warm and heavy. She wanted to tell Suzette to move it, but she worried that if she spoke, she'd throw up. She settled for moaning instead.
"Let's get you home." Suzette's voice was in her ear. Daria could feel her hot breath against her skin. Suzette slid an arm under Daria's armpit and hauled her off the stool. She didn't think Suzette was that strong -- she was a short, thin woman who looked like she'd never lifted anything heavier than a paper plate. Yet, she was firmly guiding Daria the crowd, telling people to move out of the way for her sick friend. Daria wanted to correct her -- they were co-workers, not friends. She was still worried about throwing up, though -- there was bile rising in her throat.
After what seemed like hours (but was probably actually a few minutes), they made it outside. The night air was cool, sweet, and welcome. Daria kept her eyes closed, even though the spinning subsided a bit. "Let's get you to my car," Suzette murmured. Now that they were out of the club, she didn't need to shout.
Daria wanted to tell Suzette that it would be okay, she could just take a cab home. However, she couldn't get the words out before Suzette began guiding her towards her car. She felt herself being lowered into the back seat and Suzette fastening the buckle. Did Daria imagine it, or did Suzette drag her hand across her breasts? She must have been imagining it, she decided, as she leaned her head back against the seat.
Suzette was being really nice to her, taking her out for a drink, taking her home when she started feeling sick... why did she start feeling sick? Daria tried to piece together the events of the evening, yet they refused to come together in a coherent whole. Images kept shifting in and out of focus. It was so hard to concentrate. The dizziness had been replaced by an overwhelming wave of tiredness.
Daria heard the engine start. She tried to open her eyes. Everything was blurry, like looking at the world through smudged glass. Suzette's face swam in front of her. "If you're feeling tired, you should sleep," she said. Her voice sounded like she was underwater.
"Sleep," Daria tried to say, but it came out as "sheee." Maybe it would be better if she gave into the exhaustion about to engulf her. She'd wake up feeling as good as new. At least, she hoped so.
When Daria did wake up, the first sensation she felt was that of thirst. She couldn't remember the last time she'd needed to drink water so badly -- her throat was painfully dry. The second sensation was that of disbelief. She was naked and strapped to a padded chair. A bright light shined in her face. She closed her eyes against it, cringing at its glare.
"Oh, you're awake." Suzette's voice no longer sounded distorted. Rather, it sounded normal, which was even weirder, because why would you have normal conversation with someone who was naked and strapped to a chair?
"Suzette?" Daria whispered. "What...what's going on? Where am I?"
"You're in my lab," Suzette replied. The chair tilted backwards suddenly, catching Daria by surprise. Now, she was lying down. It was like being at the dentist, only a thousand times more terrifying.
"Lab?" Daria repeated. She opened her eyes. The light was no longer directly in her face at this angle. Suzette's back was to her. She had busied herself with a tray of tools.
"Yes, my lab," Suzette explained patiently, turning to Daria. Her hands were empty, though that didn't reassure Daria. She couldn't see the tray of tools behind Suzette's back. "I've been doing a lot of independent research into the human mind and how it responds to stimuli."
