Dogs Chase Squirrels 7 - Fish Out of Water

Hey, u there?  Don’t mean to be pushy, but i’d love to go on a second date!  There’s a kickass place i’d love to take u to.  U free soon?

Oh, sure.  I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you right away.  Work has been hectic recently.

Oh it’s cool I get it lol.  Ever heard of Tracks before?

I can’t say that I have.  Is that a restaurant?

Nah, it’s an LGBTQ club.  Been there a few times, it’s great.  The DJ kicks ass, and there’s a huge dance floor there.  Plenty of room for us to cut loose if u know what I mean ;)

I...think I understand?  I’m sorry, I really don’t spend time at nightclubs.  I’m not very comfortable with them.

Awww come on i promise you’ll love it!  Better than sticking ur nose in a book all night lmao

Is...was that supposed to be a joke?

Uh yeah, sorry, lol.  My humor sucks

It’s alright.  You weren’t trying to be mean.  I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.

Great!  Friday night okay?  band’s got the night off.

Yes, that should be fine.  Where is Tracks?

It’s in the north art district, past the community college.  Pretty easy to spot.

Oh, in Denver?  Um.  Okay.

...okay?  I mean, if u don’t want 2 go, i understand…

No, no, it’s fine!  Sorry, I didn’t want to imply otherwise.  I rarely visit Denver, so I’m not familiar with everything there.

Nah it’s cool.  Denver’s really big.  Like a certain someone I know. ;)

Oh, stop.  You’re making me blush.

Counting that as a win.  Meet u at 10?

Sure, I’ll be there.  What should I wear?

Enh, wear whatever, they’re chill

Alright.  I’ll see you then, Irene.

U too, can’t wait! xoxo

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Irene stared at her phone, re-reading the messages as she leaned against the club’s brick wall, away from the entrance.  She rubbed the back of her neck with a grimace.  Ugh.  Wasn’t my intention to sound pushy, but I pulled it off anyway.  Ah well, she seemed down with it, at least.

The club’s sound system made every bassy thump impactful, allowing Irene to hear it even through the thick walls.  A line had already formed out the door, full of twenty-somethings eager to hit the dance floor.  Irene had forgotten how energetic the night crowds could get at Tracks, as cheers could be heard through the entrance as the DJ spun up the next track -- something bubbly and vibrant that would get everyone’s blood pumping.  It wasn’t her style of music, but she had no trouble getting into the spirit of things once she got her own groove on.

“Hmm.  I hope she didn’t get lost.”  The squirrel tapped her foot as she talked to herself.  “I really should have texted the address to her…”

She peered across her shoulder as the next group of twenty-whatevers went through the door.  A mink and skunk stood out especially, both dressed in raver gear, and unable to get enough of each other as their lips met before they disappeared inside.  Irene could feel a smile spreading across her face at the public display of affection.

“Man, it’s been a while since I’ve been that into somebody,” Irene mused.  “Then again, I might not have to look much further myself.”

Her eyes began to dart around as the Labrador poked at her thoughts, but there was still no sign of her.  She checked the time on her phone.  9:56 PM.  Hmm.  Perhaps Camelia was the ‘fashionably late’ type; getting into the club proper would take a good ten minutes.  Closer to fifteen, if she had to guess.

Just as she debated getting herself lost in a game of Angry Birds, Irene heard a sharp cough -- the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Hi.  S-sorry I’m late,” Camelia said, a hint of hesitation in her voice.  Irene shook her head as she pocketed her phone, immediately stepping forward to embrace the canine in her arms afterward.

“Not at all.  You’re right on time!”  Irene grinned as she separated herself from the canine.  Camelia had settled on her original height of five-foot-nothing, the squirrel standing nearly a foot taller than her.  Compared to her own attire -- Irene had settled for something more perky today, wearing a bright yellow t-shirt and tight fitting jeans -- Camelia had overdressed, wearing a surprisingly stylish pink dress someone might wear to a fancy ball.  She had draped a heavy white jacket over her shoulders to keep herself warm; given that her dress exposed her entire back and a fair portion of her sides, the jacket made a solid pairing.  There wasn’t much she could do about her dress, its hem cut just around her knees, leaving her legs exposed.  And again, to Irene’s surprise, Camelia chose to go barefoot, toes flexing against the cold concrete.

There was no denying she looked cute.  Certainly not the most appropriate attire for clubbing -- but cute nonetheless.

“You look wonderful,” Irene said.

Camelia blushed brightly underneath her golden fur, glancing to the side.  “Thank you.  I wasn’t sure what to wear, so I went with what I could find in my closet.  I hope it’s not too much.”

Irene looked perplexed.  Wait, she was practically in her underwear two weeks ago.  Is she worried about being modest now?

“It’s too much, isn’t it.”  Camelia looked forlorn.

In an instant, the squirrel was taken out of her thoughts, returning her attention to Camelia.  The Labrador was quick to notice what everyone else in line was wearing while the squirrel was distracted -- and to her dismay, she did stand out.

Irene clapped her hand against Camelia’s shoulder blade, shooting her a wry smile.  “Hey, that just means you’re the best dressed tonight!  Hell of a lot better than me.”  To that, the canine woman smiled slightly.

With Camelia’s mood seemingly sated, Irene took the initiative -- it wasn’t getting any warmer, and Irene was sure that Camelia had to be freezing in that outfit of hers.  “Come on, let’s go inside!” Irene smiled at the Labrador, walking past her, intending to hop in line.  Her ears flicked when she noticed only one set of footsteps -- her own.  She looked back, to where Camelia stood in place.  Irene stopped as well, turning around to walk back to her.  “Hey, is everything alright?”

Camelia nodded her head shortly, folding her arms underneath her chest.  “Y-yes.  I’m sorry.  I’m just...having second thoughts.”

Irene gave Camelia a confused and unintentionally annoyed look.  What the hell?  Where is this coming from?  “Second thoughts?”

Camelia hesitated to reply, but nodded.  “Yes.  I...don’t do well at bars.”

“Is it...because this place is a gay bar?”

Camelia immediately shook her head, looking shocked.  “No!  That’s not it, I promise!  It’s...well, it’s any bar.  I haven’t had the most pleasant experiences at bars.”

Irene groaned.  “Ugh, that’s why I asked you if you were okay with this!  I would have suggested something else!”

A look of guilt crossed Camelia’s face.  “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, already!  It’s not that big of a -- wait, hold up.  If you hate bars, why did you come to Jazz At Night?”

Camelia shrugged her shoulders.  “I guess I wanted to try something different.  Get outside of my comfort zone.”  She looked oddly apprehensive, giving Irene pause.  It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside the canine’s mind; only a couple of weeks ago, Camelia was confident, inquisitive, even a little sassy.  And here she was, acting -- for lack of a better phrase -- like a shy, geeky librarian, completely out of her element.  And Irene had no idea as to why. 

“Do...do you want to call tonight off?”.

“No.  I’d...like to go inside.  I’m sure I’ll feel better once I’m inside.”

Irene sighed.  She knew the Labrador was forcing herself into this to make her happy, but she didn’t have the heart to turn her down.  Besides, as unusual as Camelia was acting, perhaps she just needed a little push in the right direction.  It wasn’t the first time someone had felt overwhelmed by Tracks’s atmosphere.  Even Irene found it to be more than a little overbearing her first time around.

The squirrel placed a hand on Camelia’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.  “Trust me, this place is awesome.  You’ll love it.”

Camelia nodded once, still unsure.  “I hope so.”

“I know so.  And I wasn’t kidding about the dance stage being large.  Tracks is one of the only shifter-neutral bars in the city.  As long as you’re not threatening to literally bring the roof down, they don’t mind if you’re taller than you should be.  They even have a shutter door in the back if you wanted to be a few heads taller than a certain squirrel tonight -- and they don’t mind a few wardrobe malfunctions.”  Irene shot Camelia a coy smile, hoping that her reassurance would lift Camelia’s spirits.  Instead, Camelia only looked all the more flustered, tugging at her skirt.

“M...maybe that’s not such a good idea, Irene.”

Irene blinked, taken aback.  “Okay, what’s going on here?  You’re acting beyond strange right now.”

Camelia’s expression soured, her eyes wincing shut behind her glasses.  “Irene, please don’t be upset, but...I’m not all that confident in myself.  Not when I’m...exposed like this.  I thought I’d be okay when I left tonight, but --”  Her breathing was starting to pick up, her tail twitching erratically.

“Whoa, whoa.  Calm down, I’m not mad.  Just...surprised.  I thought you’d jump at the chance of being able to show off!”

“I mean, y-yes, I can see why you’d think that but...not when…” Camelia’s voice hitched, then fell off.  “I’m sorry.  I’m ruining the mood.  Let’s just go inside.  I’m sure tonight will be fun!”  Mustering up all the courage she had, Camelia forced herself to smile, taking Irene by the hand and guiding her toward the line.  The squirrel found herself stumbling forward, surprised by Camelia’s strength as she tugged her along.

“Whoa, slow down, dog!  Man, you’re strong for your size!”

Camelia looked over her shoulder at the taller squirrel, attempting to dissuade Irene’s concern.  “Well, they say looks can be deceiving!”

Irene smirked.  You don’t know the half of it.

The pair found themselves at the end of the line, which extended around the corner.  Camelia’s choice of dress drew more than a few looks -- looks which caused her grip to tighten around the squirrel’s own, to her discomfort.  Even so, she kept that forced smile going as Irene stood behind her.

Alright, she’s freaking out, and I have no idea why.  Like, she’s legitimately on the verge of a panic attack.  Dunno why she’s keeping it bottled up.  Maybe I should...I don’t know, try to break the ice?  I mean, we did that a lot already, what do I even ask her?

“How has your band been doing?”  Camelia asked, breaking Irene’s concentration.  She had her back turned to the line (and the stares), looking up at Irene with large hazel eyes.  Irene swallowed subtly -- she found it way too easy to get lost in those.

“Oh, we’re great, actually!  Get this -- we’re thinking about cutting a CD!  An actual CD!  It was all Frank’s idea -- he always complained about it being too expensive and too much work, but now he’s ‘all hands on deck’ about it.  He’s the tabby, by the way.  The fat one.”

Camelia giggled.  “Oh, that’s wonderful!  Although I don’t think he’d appreciate you calling him fat.”

Irene smiled wryly.  “Oh, I’ve called him worse.  Wiseass.  A big meanie.  A snack.”

Camelia paused, tilting her head a bit.  “A...snack?”

Irene suddenly found herself caught off-guard, rubbing a hand through her brown hair.  “Oh, I’m just being silly!  We’re all like that with each other.  Heh.”  Camelia let out a quiet hmm, before continuing the conversation.

“Anyway.  I’m happy for you!  Your band’s called Revelation, right?”

“Yep.  Long story about that one.  Y’see, Frank and Sy -- the jackal --”

Suddenly, Irene felt herself nearly propelled forward by a slap on her back, followed by a hearty laugh.  She turned around -- then up -- at Zara’s toothy grin, the dingo having leaned forward.  Irene’s face contorted.  “Zara?  What the hell are you doing here?”

“Aw, come off it.  You know I couldn’t resist a chance to hang out with my favorite squirrel!” Her eyes fell onto the small canine, raising an eyebrow as if she were giving Camelia a cursory scan, before offering a large, meaty paw to her.  “And you must be Camelia.  Glad to meet ya!  I’m Zara.”

Before Camelia could take Zara’s hand into her own, Irene pushed that hand aside, giving her a courteous smile.  “Could you excuse us, Camelia?  It turns out my friend wanted to do a little catching up, and I’d hate to leave her hanging.  Will you be okay by yourself?”

“O-oh.  Sure.  That’s...that’s alright.”  Judging by Camelia’s expression, Irene knew it was far from alright, but she couldn’t just ignore the sudden third wheel that had attached itself to what was supposed to be a fun and intimate second date.  Taking Zara’s hand harshly into her own, she nearly dragged the dingo -- all seven feet of her -- around the corner and into the alleyway behind it.  The look of frustration in her face made it clear just how livid she was.

“What.  The.  Fuck.  Why are you here butting into my date night??” Irene poked at Zara’s chest, unable to hide her anger.  “Pretty sure I didn’t invite you!”

“Hey, don’t get upset with me!  I just wanted to see the little sheila for myself!  You’re right, she’s absolutely lovely --”

“Don’t change the subject!  How...how did you even know we’d be here??”

“Um, you do remember I was -- A, looking over yer shoulder when you sent those texts, and B, also taller than you are?  Not hard to snoop!”

Irene bit her lip, resisting the urge to scream.  Her tail poofed out as she pressed her face into her hands.  After a few deep breaths, her body seemed to relax, and her tail returned to its normal, albeit still large, size.  “Okay.  Fine.  You met my date, congrats.  But why did you decide to crash the party now?  This was just supposed to be the two of us!”

Zara shrugged.  “I got bored.  My band mates aren’t exactly the ‘clubbing’ type.”  She made a gesture with her hands, curling her two fingers forward to make quotation marks.  “To be honest, neither am I, but if it means spending time with my bestie, I’ll put up with a lot.”

“But Zara --”

The dingo suddenly looked hurt, sticking her front lip out.  “Aw, don’t tell me you’re going to turn me away!  After I came all this way to hang out with ya and that cute little thing of yers…”  Irene’s infuriated expression caused Zara to stop and sigh.  “Okay, fine. You’re right, I totally butted in, and I shouldn’t have.  Just thought you’d like the company.  Sorry.  I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Ugh, damn it, Zara, that’s not fair.”  Irene took hold of Zara’s hand as she started to walk past the squirrel in slow, deliberate strides.  “Actually, if I’m being honest, having a wing man might not be a bad idea.  Camelia’s acting really weird tonight.  Maybe having you around might ease her mind.”

The dingo’s spirits lifted, her tail wagging.  “Really?  You made her sound like piss and vinegar the other day.  But if ya need a little help --”

“Only if you promise to behave.  Don’t scare her off, and don’t try to steal her away from me.”

Zara placed her hand to her heart.  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright then.  Also, you’re buying your own drinks.”

Zara grumbled out a “damn it, no fair” as Irene walked past her and back to Camelia, who was still waiting in line.  She had moved up a few spaces since then, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

“Sorry about that.  We had a lot to catch up on.”  Irene gave the dingo one more sour glance as she rejoined the line.  The person behind her, a young tabby with her hair dyed green, began to raise a fuss in protest, but one look at the larger dingo quieted her down instantly.  Zara added a smirk to convince the tabby to keep her mouth shut, giving her a quick flash of fangs to boot.

“It’s alright,” Camelia said quietly.  “I...wasn’t expecting you to bring another friend.  She seems...nice.”

“She has her moments.” Irene said with a soft shrug as the dingo once more offered her hand to the smaller Labrador.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just being bitchy.  Sorry to butt in like this, but Irene’s said a lot of good things about ya, so I just had to see for myself.”

Camelia looked at the dingo’s hand with a hint of trepidation, but took the dingo’s hand in her own, watching as she enveloped it with a firm squeeze.  “Pleasure to meet you.”

Zara grinned toothily as the line grew ever shorter -- until they were next to go inside.  A quick exchange of IDs and more than one cursory glance at the dingo woman later, and security opened the door inside.  Camelia froze up again as she looked inside; a pat on her shoulder brought her back to her senses.

“I promise, you’re going to have a lot of fun tonight.  I’ll see to it myself,” Irene said.  Camelia looked up and nodded, holding her chest as the trio made their way inside, to the thump-thump-thump of bass and neon spotlights.