They both glance at each other and crinkle their noses, wobbling their heads because they're still mad and they don't want to admit that they're friends. That means they're probably best friends.
"How about you forget about the castle and the sand and all of that crap … " I say, chuckling to myself when their eyes widen at the word crap, "and you take the rest of my popcorn to share during the first movie?"
The one with dark hair, clearly the Taryn of the pair, grabs my bag without question, while the other one stands behind her, her mouth slowly stretching into a smile.
"We should wash our hands," she says to her friend, her words lisping through her missing front teeth.
"Nah," I say, kicking off from the fence and wiping my buttered fingertips along my jeans. "It's just dirt. Germs are bullshit."
I wink at them both and walk away to the sweet sound of their giggling. I feel proud. As stupid as that was, I accomplished something huge back there. I might have saved a friendship.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, which halts me instantly, and the good feelings from before drain fast. It's Saturday. It's still early, but … it's happened early before. I gaze around the various lots to get a feel for how crowded things are, to see if Kyle would be able to get back in if he had to take me somewhere. The drive-in is far, but I could still walk. And my dad could wait. I prefer to make him wait.
I unload a heavy breath and pull my phone out, ready to feel the sick feeling that comes over me every single time I go through this. But it's not my dad. It's Wes.
Nice work in the sandlot. The movie starts soon. TK snuck in Cokes. I saved you one.
I read his short text over a few times, and I keep my head low so he can't see my smile. But I am smiling. The grin on my face is unmistakable, and the fluttering in my chest feels better than the whiskey did earlier. I write him back:
Thanks. Be there in a sec.
After I hit send, I glance up and notice Emily's car now pulled next to Kyle's, and I also see a girl sitting next to Wes on top of his truck. It's McKenna, and she's wearing a dress out here … on one of the coolest nights we've had. The skirt is blowing up her legs in the breeze, and she's holding her arms around her body, rubbing her hands on her bare arms. I sense it coming before I get there, so by the time I step up to the bed of the truck and see McKenna wrapped in the shirt I slept in last night, I can do nothing but laugh.
I feel like a fool.
"Cokes?" I say, quirking an eyebrow up at Wes, pretending to be unfazed by the fact that Malibu Barbie is tittering inches away from him.
"I set yours up here," he says, turning to reach for it behind McKenna, only to see her clasping it in her hands, taking a long sip.
"Right, you know what? I'm good," I say, pointing to Kyle's car, where I left my bag and where I plan on hiding for the next several hours.
"Joss, wait," he says, sliding down from the roof, his feet heavy when he lands on the ground. McKenna leans over and watches his every move, and when her eyes make it to me briefly, I blow her a kiss, which makes her smile fall flat.
"You're a bitch, Joss," she fires at me.
"You, too, Kenna. You too," I say, shaking my head and refusing to give her any more of my time.
"What the hell, Joss?" I'm so shocked by him saying anything remotely assertive to me that I freeze and stare at him, blinking. "Why do you have to make everything so damn hard?"
Still blinking. After a few seconds, I shift and look back up to McKenna, her fingers tapping on the side of the can while she pretends not to watch our conversation. She's hanging on every word. God, for a second there, when he texted me, I thought he was into me, and I actually felt a rush. It's amazing how in two seconds my brain can whiz through scenarios where-he's kissing me, I'm holding his hand, I'm lying on his lap watching these stupid movies. When I replay it now, he just said the movie was starting and he saved me a drink.
"I'm not making anything hard, Wes," I say, glancing behind him toward the roof of his truck. "Oh, she looks cold. I should let you go."
He opens his mouth to speak and moves like he may take a step toward me, but I ignore it, turning and walking over to Kyle's car, shutting the door behind me as I crawl into the backseat and pull out what's left of my bottle. Yeah, I am making this hard. But I also know how this ends. Wes gets to be my dad's darling, and I'm the girl who isn't good enough. I'm just the worthless mistake that ended my parents' marriage-at least, that's how my dad sees it. Wes can have him.
"What are we drinking?" Kyle asks, opening the other door and sliding in next to me.
We both press our feet against the backs of the front seats and lower ourselves from view. As pissed as I was over Kyle's acting like there was more to us earlier, I hope Wes is watching us now. We're just below the window view when I pass the bottle into his lap.
"I shouldn't … I'm driving," he says, holding the edge of the bottle against his lip.
"Yeah, like that shit's stopped you before," I say, tipping the bottom up so the liquid hits him. He jerks back, and a small bit spills down the front of his chest.
"Fuckin' Joss, now I'm going to smell drunk no matter what," he says, sitting up and leaning forward, blotting at his shirt. He turns his head sideways, and at first he looks genuinely mad. The left side of his mouth gives way to a grin though. "I might as well drink now, then, I guess."
"Hell yeah, Marley," I say, knocking my knee into his while he takes a long drink, letting out a slow breath after it slides down his throat.
Kyle and I stay huddled in the back for the next five hours. I only break out once when I have to pee, and while I don't look fully, my eyes catch enough to see Wes sitting on top of the truck and McKenna sitting next to him. I force myself to ignore it on my way back, quickly climbing into the car and sinking into the dark cave of Kyle's backseat.
The bottle was half empty when I took it, but there was still enough for Kyle and me to string along a pretty damn awesome buzz throughout most of the movies. The last show starts at eleven, and I can tell Kyle's getting restless. He pushes open his door and walks to the rear of his car, not bothering to go all the way to the restrooms to pee, and I hear Taryn chastise him for it. It makes me laugh, so I get out and threaten to do the same thing.
"You two always get our asses kicked out of this thing," Taryn says, picking up a handful of gravel from the ground and tossing it at us.
"That's the best part and you know it!" I yell, turning in a full circle with my arms stretched out. I'm spinning slowly, but the way the stars swirl above me makes me dizzy enough to stumble on my feet. My back finds warm hands before I run into anything, and when I gaze up, I see Wes's eyes peering down on me.
"We should get you home," he says, his mouth a firm line. I spend a few seconds weighing my options and enjoying the feel of him against me as I tip my head back even more. He's tall enough that he's a full head above me, and with my forehead pressed into his chest as I lean back, I can see his eyes clearly, and that same familiar feeling from the first time I met him floods me again.
"Oh, Christopher," I say, reaching my arm up and around his neck. "Didn't you hear me before? You … are not … my parent."
I feel him sigh against my back, and I start to laugh, happy I'm frustrating him. Seconds later, my legs are swept out from under me, and I'm being rushed to Kyle's car, carried in Kyle's arms.
"Hey," I giggle. I'm a little drunk. I'm more than a little drunk. I should put up a fight, but I'm too happy being carried around. I like that Kyle's greedy for me, even if he isn't the one I want.
"You and me need to race, Stokes. Come on; let's get out of here. We'll hit the old highway," Kyle says, jingling his keys by his face. A few people parked nearby start to yell at him to be quiet, and he tells them all, "Watch the fuckin' movie!"
"Kyle, stop. I'm not racing you, man. Just calm down," Wes says, holding one hand up and shaking his head in apology to the still-angry people around us. Kyle holds his hand up, waving it haphazardly, mocking Wes.
"Dude, Wes … it's like Joss said … you ain't my fuckin' parent," Kyle says, his laughter stopping abruptly before he leans forward and spits on the ground. "Now get your ass out on Fairfax Road, pussy."
Kyle climbs in and closes the heavy door of his piece-of-shit car, firing it up and revving the engine. I stand at the passenger side, the open door in my hand, one foot inside, resting by the seat.
"Don't do this, Joss," Taryn says, walking up to me, bending forward, and looking inside the car to survey Kyle. I hold her stare for a few seconds, while Kyle yells for me to get in. I'm about to give up on everyone, to slam his door shut and to begin my long walk home, when Wes steps up behind her.