Saturday Night

It was late on a Saturday night. Isla was bored. She was itching to get out of her house for a while. She needed to get lost.

She snuck into her parent’s bedroom, stole the car keys from her father’s suit jacket pocket, and set on her way.

She wanted to get lost but ended up in a much too familiar place.

Isla killed the engine, slipped off her flats and dipped her toes in the cool sand of the beach that always attracted her. She ran up to the shore, and started to slip off her dress until she heard a sharp wolf whistle ring behind her.

She whipped her head around quickly, squinting at the sand underneath her.

Dammit… I forgot my glasses.”  She thought, mentally kicking herself.

She adjusted her dress back in place and walked away from the shore to find to find the ass who whistled at her.

“Cam… can you go one day without being an absolute fucking douche? Go apologize.”

Isla stopped, whoever’s voice that was sounded familiar.

Cam’ stood and walked up to Isla.

“Yo, my bad for whistling at ‘ya. It was supposed to be a joke, but my cousin over here got her panties in a twist.”

Now the other person stood up, and smacked Cam upside the head.

“God-dammit you walnut, that’s not how you apolog-”

“Kalama?” Isla finally chimed in, squinting against the darkness to see her.

“Isla? Oh, it’s Isla. Cam, now you really gotta apologize or else I’m gonna beat your ass.”

Isla stood between them, awkwardly, “Kalama, it’s fine, at least you know him.”

Kalama glared at Cam, “You’re so lucky it’s just her.”

She shook her head and directed her attention to Isla, “This is Cameron. Unfortunately, we’re cousins.” Cameron huffed at that.

“K, you love me. Just admit it.”

Kalama rolled her eyes, “Cam, this is Isla, we’re friends from school.”

Isla smiled at Cam and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” She said.

“Likewise. And for real, sorry ‘bout whistling at you,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“Oh, no harm done,” Isla smiled again, waving a hand.

“Now that that’s outta the way,” Kalama said, lighting up a cigarette, “wanna chill for a bit?”

Isla shrugged and nodded, walking with Kalama and Cam to where they were sitting before.

Kalama sat back, blowing smoke into the sky.

Isla sat timidly beside her, looking at her side profile. Kalama was gorgeous, that much was clear. From her sharp almond eyes and long, fluttery eyelashes, to the slope of her nose and the fullness of her lips. Isla liked Kalama for as long as she could remember.

Kalama turned her head toward Cam.

“When were you supposed to get home?”

“Uh… I dunno,” Cam shrugged, “1:30 I guess?”

Kalama checked her phone, “Cam, it’s 2:45.”

“Shit,” he immediately cursed, “My mom’s gonna kill me, I’m taking the car. Bye!”

Before Kalama could argue, Cam snatched the keys from her and ran off.

“Great,” she groaned, annoyed, “Now I gotta walk home.”

“Nonsense, I’ll drive you.”

“Is, I appreciate the gesture, but I live on the other side of town.”

“Oh come on, if I’m driving all the way across town, it’ll be for you.”

Kalama smiled, “I love you, Is.” She reached over and hugged her.

“I love you too, K.” Isla said softly, blushing.

Kalama pulled away, unaware of how hot Isla’s body had become.

Isla had always liked Kalama. For as long as she could remember, her admiration for Kalama’s boldness quickly turned into a small crush. Her small crush then turned into a huge one, and now, Isla is head over heels for a most likely straight girl. Isla had never seen Kalama with anyone so there was nothing to base assumptions from.

“So,” Kalama said after a while, blowing smoke out of her nose. “What are you doing here at this unholy hour?”

Isla chuckled and shrugged, “I just felt like it.”

Kalama flicked her cigarette away and turned fully toward Isla.

“Damn… you even swim at 2 A.M. when the water’s cold as shit.”

Isla chuckled again, “And may I ask what you’re doing here at this unholy hour?”

Kalama smiled and lit another cigarette, “Well, Cam’s from outta town, and I wanted to take him clubbing, but he’s not about that. So I took him to this little thing at a friend’s house, but it ended kinda early. So, we wound up here.”

“Well, the night is still young isn’t it? I’ve gotta couple hours to spare. Let’s go.”

Kalama raised an eyebrow. “Go where?”

“Clubbing.  Duh.”

Kalama flicked her cigarette away and grinned. “Let’s go then.”




Kalama led Isla excitedly through the cramped, sweaty nightclub.  Isla bumped into people left and right, earning dirty looks every now and then. She offered everyone an apologetic look.

When Kalama finally slowed down, they ended up by the bar.

“Bobby! I’ve got fresh meat for you!” She shouted, leaving over the bar, staring intently at the staff door.

A tall, buff man with a full beard came out right after, smiling immediately after seeing Kalama.

“Kalama, it’s been too long. You decide to be a good kid all of a sudden?” Bobby teased, nudging her with an elbow.

“Can it, Bobby. You know I couldn’t be a good kid even if I tried.”

Bobby chuckled, “I guess that’s true. Now, I see an unfamiliar face. Who’s this?” Bobby said, turning toward Isla.

“This is Isla, my friend I was talking about.”

Bobby’s eyes widened in silent understanding. Kalama came here, not only to get drunk and dance messily with all the cuties in the room, but to talk to Bobby. It’s not normal for a high schooler to talk to a 25 year old bar tender about her private life. But Bobby was Kalama’s… mentor of sorts. He was the only one who knew about her feelings for Isla. He was the only one who knew Kalama was into girls period. Kalama never liked guys in the first place. But no one knows that. Except for Bobby, anyway.

“So, this is the famous Isla you’ve been talking about. Pleased to meet you.”

Isla shook Bobby’s hand with a smile.

“Alright, enough with the formalities, what can I get for you two?”

“Just give us each two Kamikazes and we’ll be set.”

“You got it.” Bobby winked, getting straight to work.

“Uh… what’s a Kamikaze?”

“Just a good party starter. You a light-weight?”

Isla smiled sheepishly, “Yeah, I can’t hold my liquor.”

Kalama smiled and pulled Isla into a tight hug. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

“Four Kamikazes, for my two favorite guests.” Bobby said with a wink, setting the shot glasses down in front of them.

Kalama picked up her glass and nodded at Isla to do the same. Isla picked it up tentatively and glanced over at Kalama who was studying her closely.

“On three.” Kalama winked. Isla nodded.

On the count of three, Isla and Kalama downed their shots quickly, the alcohol burning their throats as it went down. Kalama swallowed it easily, being used to the bitter taste. Isla on the other hand, squeezed her eyes shut and squirmed.

“Ugh, that’s awful.” Isla shuddered, goose bumps littering her body.  “How are you so calm?”

Kalama smiled and set her shot glass down, “Eh, I’m used to it. But we gotta have the other one, then we can go dance.”

Kalama nudged Isla with her elbow and urged her to take the other shot. Isla downed it with a squirm. Kalama cheered and dragged Isla to the dance floor.

“Ok, Isla, show me what you got,” Kalama teased, grabbing Isla’s hands and pulling her closer.

Isla stumbled into Kalama, smelling cigarette smoke on her breath. Panicking, she pulled away in a hurry, much to Kalama’s dismay.

She pouted, “You’re no fun.”

“Sorry, I just- I don’t usually do this.” Isla stuttered, flustered. Being that close to Kalama had her buzzing all over, and the shot was starting to kick in.

Kalama put her hands on Isla’s shoulders. “Is, I did not bring you to my all-time favorite night club just for you to stand in the middle of the dance floor being lame. Now relax, and live a little.” She said, swaying to the music as she let her hands slide down Isla’s shoulders to grab her hands.

Isla pulled away again.

Kalama sighed, “Fine, Is. You can sit at the bar and talk to Bobby or whatever.”  She then turned away from Isla and started dancing alone.

Isla watched her. Every sway, curve, and dip made Isla regret pulling away. She tore her eyes away from Kalama and walked to the bar.

“Not much of a dancer, huh?”

Isla turned to face the speaker.

Bobby, drying a glass, raised an eyebrow and leaned forward.

“Uh- yeah, I actually do dance. Just not like- not like that.” She sighed, cradling her already pounding head in her hands. “I do ballet.”

Bobby nodded, “You like her don’t you?”

“Wha- no, no, no. I mean, yeah, like- as a friend, but I don’t like her romantically.”

Bobby snickered. “You’re such a bad liar.” He set the glass and the towel down. “Listen, if you like her tell her, I’m sure she’ll be cool with it.”

Isla shook her head, “There’s no point, she’s straight.”

“You sure she’s straight?”

Isla nodded.

Bobby cocked his head toward the dance floor.

Isla turned.

There was Kalama, dancing with some random girl. That wasn’t so bad, but when that girl leaned in and kissed Kalama, Isla lost her shit. Against her better judgment, she drunkenly stormed her way to Kalama and eyed her furiously.

“You need something?” the girl asked, pulling Kalama closer to her.

Isla just stood there, glaring.

“You suck.” She slurred, tears welling up in her eyes.

Kalama pulled away from the girl. “What the hell?”

Isla didn’t let her say anything else. She walked out of the club as fast as her wobbly legs could take her.

She shoved the doors open and shivered in the crisp night air. Kalama exited soon after, grabbing Isla’s wrist and turning her around.

Before Kalama could say anything Isla wrenched her wrist away.

“Am I that disposable to you?!” she yelled at Kalama, earning stares from stragglers hanging around the club.

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Kalama asked, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow.

“I go sit down for one second and you’ve already replaced me?”

“Isla, it’s really not that serious, you have no right to be angry about this.”

Isla said nothing. Kalama was right, she really didn’t have any right to be upset. They weren’t together and Kalama was entirely capable of making her own decisions. But it still pissed her off.

“It’s probably the alcohol that’s making you act like this, we’re going home.”

Isla quickly wiped a tear away. “Sure,” she said quietly.

Kalama walked silently beside Isla, holding her steady whenever she tripped over herself. Once they reached the car, Isla slid into the passenger’s seat, not daring to meet Kalama’s gaze.

Kalama got in the car shortly after, started the engine, and drove without a word.




“Sorry,” Isla whispered after a while.

Kalama glanced at her, “I just don’t understand why the hell you’re so upset.”

Isla shook her head, “It just pissed me off, ok?”

Kalama raised an eyebrow for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, “Seeing me have fun pisses you off?”

“No! It’s just- I…” Isla trailed off, scratching the back of her neck sheepishly.

Kalama chuckled and lit a cigarette, “Clearly you’re not sober yet, so we’re going to get coffee.”

Isla just nodded and kept quiet.

A few short minutes later, Kalama pulled into a sketchy diner’s parking lot.

“Let’s go.” Kalama said, flicking her cigarette butt out the car window.

Isla stood, feeling weak on her legs, and walked to the diner door.

They sat across each other in a tiny booth.

Kalama looked at Isla expectantly.


“Aren’t you gonna tell me what your little temper tantrum was about?”

Isla flushed. What the hell was she supposed to say?

“Uh- it was just-”

“What can I get you two?” a waiter suddenly asked, thankfully giving Isla a chance to gather her thoughts.

“Can we just have two black coffees, please?”

The waiter nodded with a smile and left.

Kalama redirected her attention toward Isla, “Well?”

“I-uh… It’s just that- I didn’t like-”

“You know what? Don’t worry about it. If it’s too hard for you to say, don’t mention it. It doesn’t matter anymore. It was just the shots talking, I guess.”

Isla exhaled, but felt far from relived. She felt guilty, ashamed. She sank further into the plush booth seat.

No one said anything.

“Two black coffees.” The waiter said cheerfully, setting the mugs down on the table.

They both thanked the waiter and he walked away with a smile.

Come on, Isla, just tell her you like her. What’s the worst that could happen?” she thought to herself. But before she could say anything, Kalama stood up.

“I’m gonna smoke one, I’ll be back.”

Isla watched as Kalama left the diner, her head lowered. She peered into the steaming mug of coffee in front of her.

Time to put your big girl pants on, Is.

She took a long sip of her coffee and met Kalama outside.

“What’s wrong, Is?”

Isla said nothing, just took the cigarette from between Kalama’s lips and crushed it under her flats.

“Hey! What the he-”

Kalama was cut off by Isla’s lips on hers.

They kissed desperately, tugging at each other’s clothes, pulling each other closer and closer.

Isla pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I guess it’s safe to say that I kinda sorta may have a thing for you.”

Kalama smiled, “Good to know.”

They stood there for a while, bodies too close together.

“Sorry to uh… interrupt, but, you two need to pay for the coffee.” The waiter chimed from behind them.

“Oh, right, my bad,” Kalama said sheepishly. “Here you go,” she said, giving the waiter a twenty dollar bill.

The waiter flashed another smile and went back inside.

“Let’s go.”

“You don’t want your change?”

“Eh, it’ll probably benefit him more than me.”

Isla shrugged and walked with Kalama to the car.

They got in once again, and Kalama started the car, and drove out of the parking lot.

“For the record, I kinda sorta may have a thing for you too.”

Isla smiled and kissed Kalama again, but slower this time.

Kalama pulled away, “I should probably get you home before the sun rises.”

Isla grinned. “That would be ideal.”

They held hands the whole ride to Isla’s house.




Finally, they arrived.

“Thanks, K, for a great night. And I’m sorry about my tantrum. For real.”

Kalama smiled, “Anytime, Is.”  She tossed the car keys to Isla, hugged her and set on her way.

Isla snuck into her parents’ room, put the car keys in her father’s suit jacket pocket, and then retreated to her room.

She flopped face down on her bed, smiling like an idiot.

Best Saturday night ever.”

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