I want sparks. Lots of sparks.
I finally catch sight of Mason’s dirty black hat, with the gray salt ring around the band, across the dance floor where he’s laughing and whooping with some of his friends. He’s obviously already been drinking, now I have to catch up.
Sidling up next to him, he looks down at me with a big smile and drapes his arm across my shoulders. “Sis! There you are, I’ve been looking for you.” He hands me his big gulp cup and my esophagus burns as the liquid that I pull through the straw slides down my throat.
“For fuck’s sake, Mason, what did you put in that? Is that straight liquor?” A cough escapes my burning throat, the nasty taste of whiskey on my tongue.
He just smiles and kisses my head before he whispers in my ear, “Lightweight.”
I cough again, tears stinging my eyes, before I say, “Ugh, fuck me, that’s just gross.” Pinching him in the side, I ask, “Did you get what I asked for?”
He laughs and I jerk my head away as he tries to give me a noogie. “Hey! No!” I point my finger at him with a laugh as I take a step back. “I worked on my hair for an hour to make it this perfect.”
“Fine, here.” He sets his truck keys, with the little die hanging at the end of a chain, in my hand with an eye roll and a chuckle. “I left your bottle of girlie wine-punch in the floorboard under the passenger side.”
I look around for Wren, but she’s on the dance floor with Dustin. Ugh, fine, I’ll just go out by myself, it’ll only take a minute. I turn back to Mason. “Did you get me anything to put it in?”
He gives me a face like I’m asking him a ‘duh’ question. “Yep, there’s a cup of ice in the cupholder.” I start to walk away, and he says, “Hey, don’t spill any of that grape juice shit on my seats.” I flip him off over my shoulder without turning around and then he yells, “And hurry up and bring my keys back, I’m grabbing my date and leaving soon.”
The parking lot next to the field house is full and I have to walk around for ten minutes trying to find Mason’s truck. He parked in the grassy area behind the football bleachers and my heels are sinking into the soft ground. It rained yesterday and all the cars driving around looking for places to park have only made the surface muddy.
“Fuck, I’m going to have dirt all over my heels by the time I get back in.” I mumble to myself and try to walk on my tiptoes. “Of course he wouldn’t give me a damn heads-up.”
He probably didn’t think twice about it, he’s always knee deep in dirt, horseshit, and dirty hay with his Future Farmers of America club. He doesn’t care if his boots are dirty, he can just squirt them off with the hose.
But I know if he had thought of it, he would have told me to be careful. Mason would do anything for me just as I would for him, he’s the best brother I could ask for.
Flipping through his keys, I find the door key and slip it in the lock to turn, being careful not to miss the keyhole and touch the paint. Mason’s old ‘78 Chevy K-10 is his baby and he will definitely find a way to get revenge if I scratch his paint.
Leaving the keys in the keyhole, I swing the old door open with a croak. Setting my clutch in the seat, I pat the floorboard under the seat until my fingers find the cool bottle laying on its side.
“Hey Marley.” I jerk up and see one of the Juniors from my science class.
“Oh, hey, Keith. What are you doing here?” I look around to see if he’s with anyone else, but he’s alone.
Keith always flirts with me, but something about him gives me the creeps. He’s always finding excuses to touch my arm or my hand or hair. On more than one occasion, I’ve caught him staring at me in class. Once, he even leaned over and smelled my hair.
He asked me out a few weeks ago, and I nicely told him I wasn’t interested, he seemed to take it well, but I’ve been avoiding him ever since anyway.
What hasn’t set well with me is that even though I’ve been avoiding him, he seems to show up in places that I wouldn’t normally see him. I’ve considered saying something to Mason about it, but I don’t want to make something of nothing, because Mason will definitely make it something.
Tilting his head back to look up at the sky, he slips his hands out of his jeans pockets to let them hang at his sides. “Oh, I thought I would just check things out.” He looks down at the seat where my hand is resting. “What’cha got?”
Something feels wrong. Why is he here? It’s thesenior prom and he can only get in if attending with a senior. He’s in regular clothes instead of a tux, and he’s acting weird. He feels… off.
Holding my hand up so he can see the bottle, I laugh weakly. “Oh, just a little bit of liquid fun for me and Wren.” I look around to see if anyone else is around. My gut really wants someone else to be around.
Nodding his head, he takes a step closer to me, blocking me between the door and the cab. The hairs on my neck stand up and I try to be casual. “I need to get back, Mason and Wren are waiting for me.”
He extends his arm and slides his finger across my bare shoulder. “You look really pretty tonight, Marley.”
A shiver skitters up my spine and my stomach roils at the way he’s touching me. Goosebumps lift the hair on my arms and I look around again, hoping someone else might be going to their car.
Clearing my throat, I try not to react to every synapse in me telling me to run. “Thanks, Keith, but I gotta go.” I try to slip past him, but he won’t move so I can get by.
“Why wouldn’t you go out with me when I asked?” The question seems casual, but I look up at his face and I see anger in his eyes and his face is pulled tight. His eyes rake over my dress and legs. Suddenly I wish my dress wasn’t so short.
“Uhm, I told you, Keith, I don’t like you like that. I just want to be friends.”
