"It's actually a pretty good story. One of Missoula's best, I'd say," Becky said demurely, pulling her own weight in this apparently collective effort to score me a kiss with Mr. Heartthrob. Boon's eyes danced, obviously amused and eager to hear.
"It's really not that great a story," I repeated, burying my head in my hands. It really wasn't that great a story, by the way, it was just one of my only stories.
"So, you know saltines? Like, for soup? Well, they always gave them out at lunchtime, you know, and so Samantha here had this brilliant idea of hording saltines all senior year for … what? What was your plan, again?" Alicia nudged me, laughing at how red my face was.
"I was going to throw them all in the swimming pool," I said, gritting my teeth. This story is so dumb, he is going to think I'm such a loser …
"Oh, right, yeah, chlorine soup! So, Samantha's big idea for the senior prank is to fill the school swimming pool with saltines. Which would have been a pretty good one, I'll admit, even though I'll never understand why you didn't want to just buy a lot of saltines, like a normal person … "
"Wait, wait, your school has a swimming pool? I didn't know they had those at high schools," Boon said with a laugh. Becky nodded emphatically.
"Oh yeah, we have the best swim team in the state," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. It occurred to me that we were still so attached to our ra-ra high school mentality that we still wanted to take pride in dumb things like having a good swim team. None of us were even on the swim team.
"Anyway, so Samantha is hustling these saltines every day at lunch, and she's hording them all in her locker. Like, why bring them home? You can just stuff saltines in your locker, right? That makes so much sense," Alicia said, sarcasm dripping. Boon chuckled again and I caught his eye, the blush still in full bloom.
"But, like, there's only so many saltines one locker can hold," Becky said demurely, a mischievous grin on her face.
"And we keep telling her, like, yo, Samantha, girl, take those damn saltines out of your locker before it explodes! But, of course, Sammy never listens to her friends. Even when they are totally right. So, anyway, it's almost April and Samantha's locker is so full of saltines that she can't even keep her books in it anymore, and she only opens it to throw more saltines in.
Until one day this dealer kid gets caught with a bunch of pills, and all the parents in town start freaking out about it, and they decide to do a full sweep of everyone's locker to find out if anyone else is dealing on school grounds," Alicia said, her eyes getting wider and her voice louder as she told the story.
"But, of course, they do it right in the middle of the day, with no warning!" Becky said, joining in with a giggle.
"So when they get to dear Samantha's locker, you can just about see her pissing her pants, and there's just this absolute deluge of saltines flying from everywhere. The principle, all the teachers, they're all standing around while all these individually wrapped saltines just flow out of the locker, for like, a good minute and a half, just all making this huge messy pile on the floor. Finally, it slows to a trickle and everyone is just standing looking at Samantha and all these saltines, and … "
"And the principle turned to me and asked me ‘what on earth is this?' and all I could think so say is ‘crackers', but I say it really soft so he goes ‘what?' and suddenly I just freak out and yell ‘CRACKERS' right in the middle of the hallway and everyone just goes nuts," I said, finishing the story with a bang. Boon was eating it up, a big grin on his face, his eyes locked on mine.
"But the best part of the story," Becky said, leaning back, "is that the school administration decided that Samantha hadn't broken any rules but that she definitely needed to be punished, so they made her head of the anti-drug poster project, making posters for the school hallways to discourage kids from doing drugs."
"And let me guess … " Boon said, his eyes still on me, drink halfway to his oh-so-kissable lips.
"Why try crack when you can have crackers?"
"Don't snack on crack!"
"Buy crackers, not crack."
"Choose a saltier high."
"Say yes to crackers, say nope to dope," I said, finishing out the story with a hearty flourish. Becky, Alicia, and I were all in a fit now, almost crying from laughing so hard. Boon was laughing, too, though not quite as hard.
"Okay, okay, come on. Now, you've got to have some awesome high school stories," I said, wiping the tears from my eyes and returning to my staring contest with Boon. His smile faded a bit and he took a long swallow from his drink.
"Nope, never went to high school," he said, clearly feeling a little awkward.
"Oh, did you get your GED or home schooling or something?" Alicia asked cheerfully.
"Nah, school just wasn't for me," Boon said, breaking eye contact and looking out over the crowd.
"Didn't your parents get upset?" Becky asked. I could tell she was getting pretty drunk; sober Becky is usually pretty tactful, and this was clearly a subject that Boon didn't want to dwell on.
"Well, I guess you could say I just got drafted into the family business, so no. My dad didn't even want me going. Said it would pollute my mind," Boon said. "So, ladies, are you still looking for some, eh, party favors?"
We looked at him, dumbfounded, none of us quite sure what he meant. He chuckled again and shook his head slowly.
"Man, you girls are too cute. You still want weed?"
"Oh, yes! Please! Oh my god, that's like, the whole reason I came on this trip!" Alicia squealed. I wasn't so interested in the weed, but I was definitely interested in going wherever Boon was going.
"Okay, little miss, but you should know, the guys I hang around with aren't the sort of guys you're probably used to," Boon said, his brow suddenly furrowing. I could feel Becky tensing up beside me. She smelled danger. So did I, but I ignored it. Like the smell of smoke that tells you your house is burning down, I ignored it.
"What do you mean?" I asked, jumping in before Becky could protest.
"Oh, they'll treat you alright, if you're with me. But they're … a rough crowd," Boon said tactfully. My stomach did a flip-flop. Was this going to be worth it? Putting myself at risk – for what? For a make-out with a stranger? There were tons of strangers around me. I could pick anyone else at that bar and get the same thing I could get from Boon. Except … not really. I knew he was different. I knew because I'd never wanted anyone before.
And I wanted him.
"Well, I'm not afraid," Alicia said, straightening up in her seat and gathering her purse. "Shall we?"
"Guys, I don't know," Becky said, sipping her drink and looking at us with nervous eyes.
"Trust me, it's perfectly safe," Boon said, looking at Becky. She softened under his assured gaze, much to my relief. With all of us on board, we closed out our tab and took to the streets.
6
The night was warm, and the strip was packed with bodies in varying states of inebriation. Boon led us, swerving left and right, down side-streets and alleys. As we walked, we allowed ourselves to be swept away in the beautiful night and our own semi-drunk states, singing at the top of our lungs and laughing all the way. Becky was a little sketched out, but I had to admit I was proud of her for even making it this far. Generally, Becky liked to stay close to the shore.
Finally, we arrived at a small, seedy-looking bar that had rows upon rows of motorcycles parked out front. The neighborhood was comparatively quiet, for Las Vegas at least, and I worried for a second about being able to find our way home. Or being raped and left for dead, said the worrying voice in the very back of my head. I pushed it away and followed Boon into the dimly lit bar, the smell of cigarettes and old beer assaulting my nostrils as soon as I entered.
There were probably thirty or so older men sitting around the bar, which had two female bartenders. Everyone was dressed in black leather. This was the first time I'd ever been in a "biker bar", and I found myself blushing. Alicia, Becky, and I definitely didn't fit in with our short party dresses and high heels. Every man in the bar turned to look at us as the door slammed shut behind us. They were all smiling, some innocently, some not-so-innocently.
It seemed like Boon knew everyone in the bar; he walked from table to table giving out high-fives and handshakes. We all followed; I could feel Becky's anxiety baking off her, while Alicia, to her credit, acted like she totally belonged there, not a care in the world. Finally, we found ourselves at the long bar.