The big bellied dancer

chapter 2

I didn’t get a chance to deal with my newfound unemployment over the next few days. It was finals week before winter break, and there was no way in hell I was going to let my personal life take precedence over my grades. I felt like everything I had going for me was hanging on by a thread, and maintaining my GPA was the best way I could pretend things were normal. Instead of checking out clubs closer to me or looking at other jobs - legitimate ones - I threw myself into studying. I spent my newfound free time at the library going over all of my notes, watching virtual lectures, and quizzing myself.

By the week’s end, I was absolutely exhausted and ready for some much deserved self-care. I’d succeeded in running myself ragged instead of dealing with any of my problems, and I still didn’t know what the hell I was going to do. I turned to my usual comfort, inviting over my sometimes-boyfriend, Jason.

You know how I said I was a mess? That also included my love life. Jason, on the surface, was everything I liked in a man: he had a decent job with a 401K, a strong jawline, he was good in bed, and he knew what he wanted in life. On the other hand he was my guidance counselor and he could also be an asshole.

He smacked my ass as he walked into the apartment. I was leading him straight to bed - either for sex or to just cuddle up in a blanket fort and wail on his shoulder, I wasn’t sure - and he followed behind me.

“Didn’t see you at the club last night.” His comment made my cheeks burn. It was our collateral: he wouldn’t spill that I was a dancer if I didn’t spill he was sleeping with the students, ie: me. It wasn’t really clear who was blackmailing who.

“That’s because I… left.” I tried to keep my tone light, but admitting it out loud stung. Tendrils of panic snaked up my spine. I sat on the bed, looking up at Jason. He was just standing there, staring back at me.

“By choice, or were you fired?” he asked, calling my bluff. I sighed, hating how emotional I felt knowing that he could see right through me.

“...Fired. They said I’m getting fat, and I’m not earning as much.” I pinched up a micro-roll of fat, hating that this was considered huge. I wasn’t even overweight! Sure, I was soft, and I had some ghostly white stretch marks on my thighs, but I wasn’t a total cow or anything. It was just the freshman 15, really. And besides, I looked good! My curves were banging, my tits were still perky, my ass had the perfect amount of bounce. If this was what “fat” was, I wasn’t interested in being skinny.

“Well…” Jason joined me in bed, running his hand down one of my love handles and prodding it so it jiggled.

“Don’t say anything dickish,” I groaned, leaning back to be the little spoon. “I’m under a lot of stress.”

“No dickish commentary from me,” Jason agreed, still prodding my love handle as if to point out that it was getting soft.

“I mean. It’s not like you agree with them, right?” I knew I was playing with fire, but this bothered me anyway. There was an awkward pause as Jason’s hand went still. I couldn’t believe this. “--Jason?”

“I mean… if you wanted to diet or cut back on the fast food, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed,” he said gently. “Not to play devil’s advocate here, but–” I cut Jason off, unwilling to hear what he was going to say next.

“What the fuck? Don’t take their side!” I jerked out of his hold to sit up and glare at him.

“I’m not, babe! I’m just saying you need to take care of yourself. You don’t prioritize yourself!”

“And when, exactly, am I supposed to do that? I’ve been working, I’m in school full time, I have bills to pay and homework to do and a life to maintain– I haven’t even had a chance to get you a stupid Christmas present yet or acknowledge it is, in fact, December. When do you expect me to cook or focus on myself?” I was so mad I got out of bed completely, looming over Jason while my chest heaved. I felt like a grenade exploding after the long fuse lit by my former employers. It wasn’t Jason’s fault my life was in the garbage, but he was the “safe” thing I could rail against.

Jason recoiled. “I don’t need a Christmas present from you. Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m your girlfriend, and that’s what people in relationships do?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. The room was practically spinning. Nothing in this interaction was going as planned and I just wanted to curl up in a ball. The silence loomed as Jason didn’t respond. “--What?”

Jason made another face, like he was about to rip off a bandage. “We aren’t actually dating, are we, Iris?”

“What?” I was a broken record. “Jesus, do you have to do this right now, Jason? Just have to smear it in my face that the whole universe is aligned against me?” I knew I was being dramatic, but I was on the verge of a panic attack. I had bills to pay, a job to find, registration for new classes was at midnight and I had no idea what I wanted to take, and on top of everything else my boyfriend - who apparently wasn’t even my boyfriend - thought I was fat. Tears welled up in my eyes and I made a sound like an animal being strangled as I fought to not completely melt down.

“I hate it when you cry.” Jason got off my bed and came close, hugging me to his chest. I lost it, ugly-crying while throwing the last of my dignity out the window. I wanted to push him away, tell him he couldn’t be such an asshole to me but also do this, that he had to pick one, but I didn’t have the energy. He ran his fingers through my hair. I wiped my eyes, shoving all of my issues back into a box, then looked up at him.

“So if we’re not dating… that means no more nookie, huh?” I wasn’t quite teasing. I’d given up knowing what I was doing at the beginning of this conversation, and was in full Hot Mess mode by now. Jason frowned.

“Well, I didn’t say that. I just don’t want you thinking this is something it isn’t.” He kept his arms around me, but slid his hands to my ass. The tension in the room shifted from a fight scene to the makeup portion of the night.

“So what is it?” I let him pull me back into bed and held still while he pulled off my shirt. In spite of our conversation on what we weren’t and the way he was criticizing my body, I felt sexy. I wanted Jason’s hands all over me, grabbing at my pert tits and delicious hips. I craved that sense of validation.

“It’s just really good sex. C’mere…”

Now, should I have slept with Jason in that moment? Probably not, but I did, and he wasn’t wrong. The sex was great, even if it was over a figurative bed of nails. I foolishly thought he might stay and linger afterward, but the moment we were done he was on his feet, stuffing his spent cock back into his boxers to scram. I sighed.

“Until next time?” I asked drily, pulling on a robe to follow him to the door. I needed to get the mail, even though it’d only be bills and seeing them would probably only stress me out. Jason was already at the door.

“Unless you have any questions about your classes for next semester,” he joked before immediately leaving. I groaned; I hadn’t even thought about classes yet. I opened the door to yell mean things at his retreating back, but there were other people in the hall and the last thing I wanted was a scene. I was already a hot mess without a scandal about sleeping with my guidance counselor coming out.

Instead, I got the mail. As expected, it was a pile of bills: hospital, physical therapy, credit card, tuition. I threw them on my desk, stopping to look at the final letter on the pile. It was thick, the envelope almost creamy to the touch. It was the most expensive cardstock I’d seen since getting my acceptance letter, and more bougie than I deserved. My address had been printed in a swirling cursive, and there was a seal on the back with a big letter H.

“It’s a little late for Hogwarts,” I muttered as I opened it. I had no idea what it could be. The letter was printed out on more expensive cardstock. The front of the card was stamped HEDON. The inside was an invitation for me to dance with them.

What the hell? I’d never heard of Hedon, whoeve they were. Just the name sent tingles down my spine, but I was trying to ignore that. I went back to my room, grabbing my phone to google the club. The website was secretive, which wasn’t uncommon considering the industry. I skimmed over the text. They seemed to appeal to the unusual, promising male and female entertainers to please every palette. I had to give it to them for the diversity.

My heart pounded. I had no idea how they’d found me and probably should have been skeeved out, but I wasn’t. This was just the opportunity I needed, and I planned to shine.

**The Big Bellied Dancer is now available to read in full! Get your copy here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09T8CTWWP **