He laughed. “Well, are ya?”
“Maybe?” I said in my flirtiest voice.
Behind him, the bonfire was sparking.
I could feel everyone’s eyes on us, and it made me feel so good, so powerful.
“Ha!” He smirked. “Not afraid to tell it like it is, are ya?”
He hotboxed his cigarette. Like him, it was different. Rolled in brown paper, smelling kinda funny, like flowers or something.
“What are you smokin’?” I stuck my hip out, tried to act even flirtier.
“It’s a clove. Ever had one?”
I shook my head.
“Well, let me give you your first.” He dug a pack from his back pocket, shook one out. “Better yet, I’ve got something even more fun to smoke. Follow me.”
As I walked with him, I felt like I was floating, a balloon that had been released, in danger of drifting into the sky.
I followed him to the line of the woods, where his Camaro was parked.
“Climb in.”
The inside of his car smelled like his cigarettes, sweet and smoky. He rummaged through his console, then came up with a joint. “This cool with you?”
“Shit, yeah!”
Pot usually makes me feel silly, giddy, a little paranoid, but it gives me the giggles.
He fired it up, took a long drag, passed it to me.
The paper was still wet from his mouth; it tasted like how I imagined kissing him might.
I took an equally long drag, to show him I was cool.
He reached up, slid back his sunroof. “If we lean our seats all the way back, you can see the stars.”
I did exactly what he said, pulling the lever, pushing the weight of the seat down with my back.
I glanced over at him. His shoulder-length hair looked like silk. I wanted to reach across and touch it. Run my fingers through it. He was staring straight up at the sky. I kept looking at him, hoping he’d look back at me, working up the courage to lean over and kiss him. But he took another pull off the joint, then blew the smoke upward through the roof. He pointed. “I swear that’s Jupiter. You see it?”
I peeled my eyes off him, looked through the opening at the red dot he was pointing at. “Yeah, I do. That’s so cool.”
“It’s the planet of good luck.”
“Is that so?” I asked, teasing. “Are you an astronomer?”
“Ha. No, more like an astrologer. Jupiter’s my ruling planet. I’m a Sagittarius. You?”
“Scorpio. Through and through.”
“Coulda guessed it, Nellie.” He said my name like it was a naughty thing, a playful thing, a beautiful thing, and my stomach turned to butter. “All darkness and passion.”
He turned to me then, his brown eyes twinkling. I fought the urge, again, to lean over, kiss him, maybe crawl on top of him.
He would have to make the first move.
