Illuminate by Aimee Agresti

anything.
    It took me a while to realize the tapping at my shoulder was Dante. He had come to sit next to me. I turned my head toward him and tried to catch up on what he was saying. His lips were moving so fast but my brain was moving so slow. The music had gotten louder. My drink, in this ridiculously large glass in my hands, felt heavy again. I tried to pay attention.
    “ . . . could not stop watching, it was unbelievable . . . I look up and you’re in the middle of this little tête-à-tête with the boss.He’s absurdly hot, it’s out of control. So?”
    His skin was slick from so much dancing.
    “So?” My thoughts were coming down the pipeline again, only very slowly.
    “So, what was that about? I’m dying here!” He leaned forward, making sweeping gestures with his hands. “I have to hear everything.”
    “I think I like the ring of fire.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I like what you’re sayin’.”
    “That’s where we are—this is the ring of fire; that’s what he said.”
    “What else? Tell me more.”
    “He gave me this for my birthday. Did you see? It was on fire!” I was beginning to break a sweat. The flame was long gone, but I blew into the glass just to be safe, rippling the surface with my breath. I lifted it to take a sip then stopped. “He said the alcohol burned off. From a scientific point of view, that sounds correct, wouldn’t you say?”
    “Theoretically, yes,” Dante concurred. “Want me to try?” He grabbed it from my hands and took a sip. “You’re fine, drink up.”
    “Thanks.” I took a tentative sip. It tasted like carbonated fruit punch. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was—I kept drinking like it was one of those sports drinks and I’d just run a marathon.
    “What did he say? ” Dante pressed on.
    “Not much really. He said to make a wish.”
    “Smooth. He’s smooth,” he said, with cool admiration. “I’m not surprised.”
    “Yeah, I guess,” I said, my voice losing some of its steam and wild optimism. I knew I was blowing things out of proportion. I tried to bring myself back down to earth. “I’m sure it was all no big deal.”
    Dante shrugged, thinking it over.
    And I jumped back in: “But I mean that whole bit with my hair, did you see that?” He nodded. “Was that just a safety precaution or something else?” I asked. He took it seriously, hand to his chin, thinking, thinking.
    Finally: “Now, I want to say it was possibly something else.”
    “You do . . .” I brightened.
    He continued, “But prudence dictates that we monitor the situation before getting too excited.”
    “Can we get a little excited?”
    “A little excitement is definitely permissible since it’s your birthday.”
    I smiled in a big way and whispered, “Yay.”
    He laughed. I settled back into the soft confines of the bench. Peaceful waves crashed over me. I felt like rays of light were shooting from my pores, and my skin was hot but so awake. Yet my mind was so much the opposite. The music, throbbing as it was, wooed me to sleep; the sparkling flames and the tremble of activity around us all carried me off. My eyes may have drooped shut; either that or I just couldn’t remember what I had been looking at for the past several minutes.
    “That blonde sure has been talking to Lance for a while, even though he’s just sitting there. I’ll have to give you both lessons in flirting,” Dante said.
    “Sure,” I said, now certain that my eyes were closed. But I just couldn’t open them.
    “Uh-oh, someone’s crashing.”
    “Who?” I felt myself slur.
     
    It was after two when I made it back to my room, with great assistance from Dante and Lance. I remembered little between my talk with Dante in the ring of fire and getting tucked into my bed. But I did notice as we crossed the lobby to the elevator bank to descend to our rooms that the chandelier in the center of that majestic entranceway looked even better at night than during the