Page 21 of Adam's Rising

Claire allowed Boyd to drape an arm over her shoulders, even though his hand was inching way too close to her breasts. She shrugged in reply to his ridiculous comment, and his hand slid back a fraction.

As if admonished audibly, Boyd moved the arm to the seatback, triple tapping the vinyl to get Roger’s attention. “Don’t look like he even has athingin those European panties.”

Roger leaned over the seat, jutting his chin toward the screen. “Yeah, but you two are practically wearing the same shirt. What happened,B? Couldn’t you find the matching rose-colored polyester pants?”

Boyd shoved Roger back. “Look who’s talking. You dress like the man’s father.”

Claire used the interruption to focus on the movie. Tony’s father slapped him, and she jumped. Not once had her parents struck her. She never imagined —

“Just like my old man,” Boyd grumbled. “Must be a Mediterranean thing.” He returned his arm to her shoulders. “But not anymore. I’m moving out of that bull’s house soon enough.”

“Really?” Claire asked, a bit too excited by the prospect. “Are you moving away?”Please say yes.

Boyd focused on the screen instead of answering. He laughed at something Tony said, who was now in the car with his friends. Something about breaking his finger and blue. “You ever hear the middle finger called that, Roger?”

“Nah, man,” Roger said. “But I got that action down. Right, Lala?”

“Yeah, you do, baby,” Lala crooned, but her words didn’t sound genuine. Lala pretty much wore her feelings on her sleeves. Claire rarely had to guess what Lala was thinking. Roger, sadly, didn’t catch Lala’s emotions.

Other than recognizing Lala’s fake response, Claire was at a loss for the meaning behind Boyd’s question. She must have missed something in the conversation while she considered what she would do if Boyd moved away. Not that she would consider long. If Adam now lived in Wasilla, she wouldn’t let his shyness get in the way of asking him to prom. Besides, as long as Boyd laughed with Roger, she wouldn’t have to taste his sour breath, and more importantly, she could watch the movie.

Tony was in the club now, and he was dancing. Claire focused on the moves. She was definitely coming back to the drive-in by herself so she could learn the group dance. She rocked her shoulders back and forth to the beat.

Boyd pushed her hair back, then wrapped his large hand around the back of her neck. “This guy’s moves do it for you, Claire?”

Claire leaned back against the door, turning to Boyd — nothing was happening in the movie anyway. “The film’s interesting. I don’t think it’s just about dancing —”

Boyd lifted his chin, smiling at the scene. “Now we’re talking. Thought I was only gonna see Travolta in his panties.”

After a quick glance, Claire turned away, knowing her cheeks were blooming red. She hadn’t expected strippers and orgasms. She suddenly felt exposed.

Night Feverpulsed through the speakers, and she turned back to the screen. She could totally learn that group dance; it was the same moves over and over. She would practice in the barn.

Claire was lost in her own world when Tony was practicing with Annette and then Stephanie. All she could think about was Adam. What might have happened between them if she’d hopped up in the back of the truck with him.

Boyd turned her entire body to him. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“What’s the problem withwhat?” Claire asked. She’d definitely missed something.

“Like her — that Stephanie bitch — you don’t think I’m interesting.”

“What are you talking about, Boyd? I’m just watching the movie.” Tony was heading to the multicolored dance floor with another woman, and Claire wanted to study their moves. She should have agreed with Lala when she suggested canceling the date, and then Claire could have snuck out and watched the movie alone. Then again, the girl at the ticket window probably wouldn’t have let her in if Roger hadn’t been driving.

Boyd’s lips turned up into a sneer. “I’ll show youinteresting…” With one swift move, he picked her up, then pushed her on her back.

Claire tried to shove him off her, but he was far too heavy, pinning her against the seatback, so she couldn’t even roll to the floor.

The music changed, and Claire whipped her head away from Boyd’s mouth.

She’d been waiting all night to hear her favorite Bee Gees song.

You Should Be Dancing.

The opening beat kicked in hard — a pulsing, four-on-the-floor rhythm that begged her to get up and dance. She’d bought the 45 right after watching Adam dance to the song. Often, she would set the record player on repeat and listen over and over with her headphones — so Lala didn’t give her crap about it.

Her thoughts flashed to the present. Boyd had her blouse pulled down and was reaching behind her back, trying to unhook her bra.

Wha’cha… doin’ on your back? The lyrics pounding through the speaker energized her, like getting a second wind during a climb, when she could see the top was mere feet away.

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