“I feel ridiculous,” April whispered to Deb as they approached the line snaking around a trendy nightclub in Seattle called Blast. “I’m the same age as these kids’ parents. Last spring, I was a respected university history teacher, and now look at me.”
The club’s thumping music spilled outside, where a string of twenty-somethings with short skirts, tattoos, and vivid makeup were swaying to the beat and ready to party.
April shivered in the autumn night air. She’d forgotten her jacket—a clear indication she was accustomed to Crown Island, where it was still warm and sunny.
Turning to Deb, she asked, “Did we actually do this when we were younger?”
“Don’t you remember clubbing on the Sunset Strip in Los Angeles?” Deb grinned. “I’m sure I have some incriminating old photos from the Roxy an
