His voice pulls me out of my thoughts. His silhouette is tall and lean with the moon as a backdrop, but there’s uncertainty in the way he holds himself. I wish I had my sketch book. I’ve never seen Trace look so uncertain. He always comes off confident. Nothing bothers him. But my laughter did. Why, when it hadn’t earlier, when he brought up frogs being horny?
Jesus, my fingers itch to capture the uncertainty in his stance, the inward pull of his shoulders, his downward gaze, and the stark outline of his Adam’s apple.
Rush and kids I don’t recognize step into the clearing. They must be from Delridge High. As soon as they see us, they stop talking and shine their flashlight apps on us.
I pull the ball cap lower over my face. Rush looks from me to Trace, who has moved two arm’s lengths from me with his hands jammed in his pockets.
“Everything okay?” Rush directs the question at me.
“Yes,” I say in a louder voice than I would use in a crowd of people I barely know and who have made it clear they would like to keep it that way.
Rush looks at a spot over my head. Trace has moved behind me. I can feel his presence as a ball of agitated energy. Will he throw a rock at Rush? Will Rush fight back this time? Who names their kid Rush? Then again, my parents named me Sorrow. I don’t have long to think on it. Trace walks away, leaving me behind to deal with Rush, the kids, and the blanket on the ground. It’s the only evidence that something happened between us.
Did he change his mind about Phoebe?
Avoiding the pity in the kids’ eyes, I pick up the blanket, shake it off, and stuff it and Trace’s ball cap in my bag. Sighing, I follow Trace, having learned lessons from him already.
One, deep conversations aren’t important to a guy who is into casual hookups. Two, teasing him doesn’t matter, either. I laughed, and he took it the wrong way, setting me on my feet like I was something disgusting.
Three, a guy can go along with my idea one moment, and make me wonder if the whole incident was a figment of my imagination the next. Four, being vulnerable and sharing something personal, like how I don’t want to be taken advantage of by a guy or to fall for a guy, won’t make him understand or like me.
Being vulnerable comes with risks, and I risked my heart and got nothing in return except for pity and the ache in my chest.
What matters, though, is the physical part. Trace liked holding me in his lap. When I squirmed, he became hard and his breathing sped up. I was surprised at first that I could do that to him, but I read that a man’s erection is involuntary, and it can happen anytime and from the most minor things. Which means I could’ve been any girl, and Trace would get hard. The thought is depressing.
I walk down the path with my bag over my shoulder and my flashlight app lighting the way back to the party.
Footsteps approach from behind me. Is it one of the girls running up to grab my hair and yank it back for spending time with Trace? The other girls’ jealousy and bullying are the reasons I asked for the experiment to be a secret.
“You warm enough, Sorrow?”
Rush comes from behind and takes a spot on the trail next to me. I walk more slowly. I’m not in a hurry to watch the girls salivating over Trace, or to see Phoebe clinging to him as they say their goodbyes. Phoebe doesn’t go to our school. She goes to Delridge High, Cambridge’s rival.
“Yes, thank you.” My voice is quiet and unsure. I’m doubting Rush’s intentions after Trace’s first lesson, that a boy will do anything to get inside a girl’s pants when they’re alone in the dark.
Rush seemed like a nice boy when he came up to me, all nervous, but what if it’s just an illusion? I thought I had it all figured out, but then Trace dropped me like a hot potato as soon as we weren’t alone anymore. It wasn’t my laughter. He didn’t want to be caught with a social pariah in his arms.
“Did Trace hurt you?”
My hand goes to my throat.
Rush takes my surprise the wrong way. Trace might be brooding and overbearing, but he would never hurt me.
“I’ll rip out his fucking throat. He’ll never speak to you again. Say the word, Sorrow, and I’ll make it happen.”
I shake my head. “He didn’t. Please, don’t.”
“He followed you. You two were out there forever.”
“We were talking about me moving to Alexandria or Montgomery after graduation. I haven’t decided yet.”
“You too?”
“Too?” I glance sidelong at him.
Rush can give Trace a run for his money in the looks department. They’re complete opposites. Trace is lean muscle. Rush is all bulk, his muscles straining against his shirt when he shoves his hands in his pants pockets and pulls his shoulders tight to his core. He’s taller than Trace and has longish blond hair, with a few strands falling in his eyes. His nose is crooked, likely from being broken.
“I plan on playing rugby for Alexandria U.”
