Page 88 of Lines

I look at the cup and then back at her.

We are standing at the edge of a makeshift dance floor. Everybody is dancing, singing, and having fun. They are young and they’re enjoying it to the fullest.

What was I thinking before? How is everybody enjoying themselves like nothing happened? Maybe I should follow their example and do the same. For one night, maybe I should just forget. So I tilt my head back and drown what’s left in the cup.

Derek

“Do you see them?”

“They are still where they were five minutes ago,” I mutter taking the beer he offers me. “This was your brilliant plan?”

The other day he said to leave everything to him and to think about what I’m going to tell her. How I was going to explain and I don’t know what other shit.

“Hey, now.” Max lifts his hands in the air. “I said I would bring her here. I didn’t say anything about making her talk to you. That was supposed to be your thing. If it wasn’t for me she would even be here.”

“That wasn’t even your doing. It was your sister’s.”

We’ve been standing against this wall, keeping an eye on the girls for close to two hours now.

I could have gone in the middle of the crowd and drug her away from her friends, but I didn’t want to make a spectacle out of her or me. We are making enough of the spectacle as it is.

Staring down another guy that came too close to her to my liking, I can feel people gawking at me, just waiting for all of this to blow up in the air so that they can get their dose of drama and new material for gossiping over tomorrows’ brunch.

“I had it planned, but first I have to get her to talk to me. Or at least come close enough to listen.”

Brook pushes a new cup in Amelia’s hand. She takes a swig from it, drinking more than a half, before they continue dancing and laughing.

“She’s drunk.”

“Fancy of you to notice, dumbass. Wasn’t your sister supposed to be in on all of this?”

“She brought Lia here.”

“You are an idiot, Sanders.”

“Takes one to know one, King.”

I continue watching them for a few more minutes, slowly drinking my water. I’m jittery, but I can’t have a drink to loosen up my nerves.

Amelia is more than half drunk, so I can’t let my guard down. My brain needs to be clear and sharp if I want to accomplish anything.

Brook is dancing with Amelia, and Jeanette is standing in the opposite corner, a bottle of water in her hand and indifferent look on her face. There is some guy in a Batman suit next to her, trying to get her attention, but I would be surprised if she heard half of it, if any at all.

“What’s her deal?”

Sanders’ gaze follows the movement of my chin. He chuckles when he catches his sister walking away from still chattering guy. “She doesn’t do losers. Smart girl.”

The swirl of pale red catches my attention just in time to see Amelia give a turn and crash into a cowboy. She looks over her shoulder and gives the stupid fool one of her sweet, sexy smiles.

His hands are glued to her waist, but she doesn’t brush him off. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave her some lame excuse like, ‘I don’t want you to fall down’. I know I would probably say something like that just to have my hands on her a few seconds longer.

Although I can’t hear it, I can see her laugh at something he said. The way she tilts her head backwards, touching his bare chest and exposing her pale neck. The way her chest rises and falls and her shoulders slightly shake in glee, and how she puts her hand over her mouth. She always does it. As if she wants to hide her smile from the world.

Her hands cover his and she lets him sway with her to the beat of the music. All I can see is red.

“This is going too far,” irritated, I shove my half-empty bottle in Sanders’ hands.

Cowboy. Why would somebody from Michigan dress up as a cowboy anyway?

---