Page 73 of Ordinary Secrets

“What? Aren’t fireworks, like, the main part of a July Fourth party?”

I swallow hard and turn toward my window. “I guess.”

“You don’t like fireworks?”

It’s not that I don’t like them. I think theylookcool. It’s the bomb-like noises they make that I don’t like.

“How ’bout I come back to pick you up after the fireworks?” I say to the steering wheel. “That way, you can still see ’em.”

Arella’s tender hand cups my face. She trails light fingertips along my stubble before turning me to look at her. I go willingly. Her calming eyes and tender smile send a wave of comfort through me. It’s as if she has her own body power of easing my anxiety and it works by touching my face.

“I’ll be happy to leave with you, Trey.”

I place my hand over hers, pressing it harder against my cheek. I’m grateful that she didn’t ask for an explanation, because I’m not ready to give her one.

With Arella’s arm looped through mine, we join the party. Looming trees surround the park. A sand volleyball court already has a team on each side, with a ball in the air. Kids scream at the top of their lungs as they race around the playground. Most of the people are gathered at the pavilion where all the food is. More are down by the small pond, singing around a fire with Kevin on a guitar and Marcus on a box drum. The upbeat energy emitting from everyone lifts my spirits.

Arella and I head toward the pavilion where a couple of teenage boys are going through the buffet line. They pile food onto their plates as if they haven’t eaten in days.

I grab a beer from a cooler and hold it out to Arella. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.”

“How ’bout a hard lemonade?”

Between her fingers, she twists the ends of her hair. “I’ll just have a soda.”

I’m about to tell her that she should let loose and have fun when it hits me that I’ve never seen her drink alcohol. Not onceduring those four weeks I studied her. Not during these last few weeks since we’ve met, either.

I place the beer back into the cooler, then take her hand and give it a squeeze. “You don’t drink, do you?”

She doesn’t pull her hand away. She doesn’t squeeze my hand back either. “Not really.”

“Sorry, babe. I didn’t know.” Which is stupid, because I’m supposed to know everything about this woman. How could I have missed this? What other details have I missed?

“That’s okay. I never told you.”

“Can I ask why you don’t drink?”Maybe this has something to do with her immunity...

She keeps her eyes anywhere but on me as she, aggressively now, rubs more hair between her fingers. The distress on her face tells me all I need to know.

Instinctively, I pull her close and whisper into her ear, “I won’t let him hurt you ever again.”

She melts into me, circling her arms around my back. “He was always worse when he was drunk. Everything about it reminds me of him. Seeing it, tasting it, smelling it. Everything.”

I know all about avoiding things that bring up bad memories. Alcohol to her is like fireworks to me.

After shutting the beer cooler, I open the one labelednonalcoholic, all while keeping Arella’s fingers intertwined with mine. She plucks a Sprite off the top, and I grab one for myself too.

“Trey, you don’t have to drink soda just because I am.”

“Didn’t you just say that the smell of alcohol makes you think of Pencil Dick?”

She nods slightly.

“Are you gonna make out with me later if I smell like beer?”

“Probably not, but?—”

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