"Me neither," she shrugs. "Despite my youth and relative coolness, clubs aren't usually my thing. I like bars because I run into more guys that I know I won't want to have sex with more than once."

Penelope clinks her glass with Ilde's, in a show of solidarity. She saw that little glimmer, but it could easily have been reflected sparkle from any of the myriad shiny objects twinkling around the club. Or Penelope could be hallucinating. God only knows what they make alcohol out of in this crazy-ass city.