Out of Nowhere(117)
“Happy birthday,” Rafe finally says to Mikal, who’s decked out in an entirely glittered outfit—sparkly leggings and a T-shirt with a print that looks like an Easter card of a pastel kitten that’s covered in rhinestones. His eye makeup is glittery. He even has glittery shoelaces in his purple Keds.
“Yaaaay!” Mikal says, bouncing on his toes. “You’re here! We’re just waiting for—”
Mikal breaks off as a guy I’ve never seen before walks up, hands in his pockets, looking around suspiciously. He looks older than the other kids and he’s limping a little.
“—Philip, yay!” Mikal calls out, bouncing over to the new guy and drawing him into the circle. “Philip, this is Rafe and Colin.”
We shake his hand, but he doesn’t quite make eye contact.
“Philip’s my new friend from school. You should totally start coming to YA,” he says to Philip. The guy doesn’t say anything, but he keeps his eyes on Mikal.
“Okay,” Mischa says, clapping her hands together like a camp counselor. “The stations are: sponge-painting T-shirts at this table and nail polish at that table. And snacks and drinks are right here. Go for it!” Then she pushes a button and disturbingly upbeat music pours out of speakers plugged into her phone.
“Omigod, Colin, can I please paint your nails. I see you in purple—maybe a purple ombré?” Mikal’s looking up at me, his eyes bright.
“I—um, well… I—” I look to Rafe, who seems totally relaxed and amused by this turn of events.
“It’s his birthday” is all Rafe says, smiling at me warmly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Dorothy says to Mikal. “He doesn’t want that.” I take a deep breath and turn to Dorothy in relief, ready to give her whatever she wants for getting me out of it. “Look at what he’s wearing! It’s gotta be gray. Ooh, maybe use the crackle topcoat,” she says, nudging Mikal with her shoulder. Then she looks up at me and winks, nodding. I shoot her a look and she just laughs and goes to the sponge-painting station.
“Well, who’s gonna do Rafe’s, then?” I say, and the smile on his face becomes slightly forced.
“Me!” Mischa yells. “Please, me,” she says to Rafe. He nods at her and sinks down on the bench next to me.
Of course, within five seconds all the kids are gathered around us, not doing anything but eating snacks while they watch me and Rafe get our nails painted.
“Colin, your hands are so messed,” says Mikal.
“What?” I say, mildly offended. My hands are spotless. “Dude, have you seen most mechanics’ hands? Mine are the cleanest you’ll ever find.”
“Oh, um, right. No, sorry, Colin. They’re nice,” Mikal says, patting the back of my hand and shooting a look over my head. “There you are!”
DeShawn walks over and nods at everyone, setting his white backpack down carefully in the corner of the gazebo. Anders creeps along at his side, his all-black outfit an almost comical inversion of DeShawn’s.
“Happy birthday, Mikal,” DeShawn says, kissing him chastely on the cheek, and Anders follows suit.
“DeShawn, I got white especially for you,” says Tynesha from the other side of the nail polish table.
Once they have DeShawn and Anders settled at the table, Carlos says, “Hey, maybe Anders should get white and DeShawn should get black. Or you could mix them.” He winks at them both lewdly. DeShawn braces himself on the table and pushes himself off the bench slightly, leaning into Carlos’ space. I’ve never seen him the slightest bit aggressive before and everyone freezes. He keeps eye contact with Carlos, his expression never even changing. After about thirty seconds that feels like an eternity, he sits back down and picks up the white nail polish.
“Sorry, bro,” Carlos mutters and DeShawn nods peacefully, placing the black nail polish in front of Anders.
“Aaaanywaaay,” Mischa says. “So, I’m thinking of doing galaxies on Rafe. It’s awesome ’cause his hands are so big that I’ll be able to get really good detail. What do you think?”
The table agrees, but I stopped listening the second she mentioned Rafe’s big hands because all I can think of is waking up to them all over me. Recently, he likes nothing better than to wake me up by slowly stroking me to an aching hardness and then going down on me the second I’m conscious enough to nod okay. It’s basically the hottest thing ever and suddenly I’m feeling extremely self-conscious to be sitting at a table full of teenagers. I shake my head to clear it and avoid eye contact with Rafe.