Page 36 of The Curve
He’s kind and good.
He’s fair.
He treats Mallory with respect.
He listens when I talk, and from what I’ve seen hardly ever acts like the star athlete he is.
He’s romantic.
I think he invented the word. And I’m convinced he’s never been this way with any other girl. I’m either the most gullible woman in the world, or the luckiest.
“Look, Charlotte!” he whispers.
Through the trees, in the inky darkness the light show begins. At first it’s just a few short sparks. The flickers are deep in the forest and I catch them out of the corners of my eyes. Then the numbers grow, and the spectacle becomes unmistakable: fireflies, hundreds of them, the pulsing of their tiny lanterns, synced together perfectly. The flashing appears to come in sets. Six I think, then darkness. Another six and darkness again. Then the flashes are everywhere.
“It’s called rhythmic bioluminescence,” he whispers.
“Are they mating?”
“It’s their ritual. The males are trying to attract the females.”
“And they dance in unison!” I say, mesmerized by nature’s spectacle.
The twinkling rises, crests and falls, from one side of the trees to the other. It’s like a waterfall or wave of lights. I’m enchanted.
* * *
There’sa kind of serenity that surrounds us as we walk out of the forest and across the lawn. He’s smiling, I’m smiling, and we’re holding hands like teenagers in the throes of puppy love. Only this is no shallow pool of emotions. It’s the deep end.
Up ahead, the party’s winding down. The D.J.’s playing “Unchained Melody”, Lucinda and Boone’s song, as they move gracefully around the dance floor. They’ve got it all to themselves. The way they’re holding each other makes me think that’s how they like it. Only one group of people still sit at a table, and it’s the Swifts. They’re laughing.
“Leave it to my family. They’ll outlast anybody.”
“What time is it?”
He looks at his cell. “Three ten.”
“Four hours. You’re quite a man.”
He puts an arm around my shoulders. “That was all your doing. I was inspired.”
“Where the hell did you two go?” Ken’s voice carries as we approach the group.
I look at Atticus, he looks at me. Both of us are trying to come up with a good answer. But it doesn’t matter because every single person at the table knows exactly what we’ve been up to. Knowing grins show up on each face.
“Never mind, I retract the question,” Ken says raising a hand.
Lucinda and Boone spot us and cut short their dance and head for the table.
Brick and his date, a classy-looking redhead, are still together. It’s clear he’s had a good time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so much. I know the night’s alcohol consumption hasn’t hurt any of us.
“We’re gonna head out,” Atticus says.
“What?” Brick says as he gazes through bloodshot blue eyes. “You just got here.”
He says it loudly which is out of character.
“You’re drunk, brother,” Atticus answers. “Holly, you’re gonna drive,” he says to Brick’s date.
