*Wish me luck on the contest!
All characters are 18+*
*
I looked down between my shoes. I could see a candy wrapper and an empty firecracker casing floating in the dirty puddle between them. I reached down and picked them up, tossing them into an empty bag with the few kernels of kettle corn that I hadn't finished.
It had been raining regularly, but it hadn't cooled anything down. Instead, each shower had been followed by wet searing heat, and a sullen yellow sun. I pitied the high school kids in their stiff red and black uniforms, their sweaty cheeks puffed with the effort of belting out a lusterless Sousa march.
The parade was outside my house, and I had watched the entire thing. The last group, a girl scout troop throwing out bubblegum, was already a block ahead. The listless spectators were getting up. Folding lawn-chairs and gathering up bags and picking up trash and corralling squalling kids.
I sighed and looked back down to the puddle. I wiped my hair out of my eyes, and rubbed my cheek. I needed to shave. All I could grow was dark fuzz that didn't match my lighter hair.
"Jamie? Hey, Jamie Moss, is that you?"
I was startled. I didn't have any friends back home, who here would know my name? I whirled around and felt my stomach sink very slightly when I saw Tricia Stevenson bouncing towards me.
"How have you been? I haven't seen you in forever!" For good reason. The faint rosy smell of her shampoo brought back unpleasant memories. It wasn't her fault though, I guess.
"Pretty good Trish, what's up with you?"
It felt strange to sit here and just talk with somebody. I hadn't done much since I got home. I worked forty hours a week or more at my shitty job at Burger King. I went and saw movies on my own. I took long walks with my dog. I realized that this was the first real conversation I had held with somebody other than my parents since I had gotten back from college.
Despite being a little uncomfortable at first, I relaxed. This was nice. This was really nice.
After a small break in the conversation, she looked at me and asked, "What are you doing for the fourth?"
It felt like a loaded question. Like she was waiting with bated breath to hear my answer. I just shrugged. "Go home, watch Independence Day, I might see some fireworks with my folks."
She shook her head, sending her unruly tawny hair flying everywhere. "Nuh-uh. You can't. See if you can bail, and then you can come party with us."
A dozen knee-jerk excuses flew through my head. I even opened my mouth to voice them. But then I shut my mouth and reconsidered. She could see how hesitant I was, and she flushed bright red.
"Jamie?" She took a deep breath. "I just wanna be friends. We can just forget about what happened before you left? Please? I really miss you."
I thought about it for a moment. I looked down between my shoes to the fast-drying puddle
"Let me call my parents." I murmured. "Tell 'em where I'm going?"
She grinned so wide that her dimples cut into her cheeks.
---
It turned out that Tricia had made a lot of friends while I was gone. One of them lived out in the country near a bank of fireworks that were going off at ten. Since it was private property, we could have the entire place to ourselves while the fireworks went off. Her friend was having a party in his backyard.
I drummed my fingers on the hard plastic armrest. My stomach felt like it had crumpled into a tiny ball. Tricia was in the passenger's seat, I was in the back with a bright-eyed chubby girl named Vicky, and her friend Steven was driving.
We couldn't have been more than ten feet from the car in front of us.
My stomach lurched as Steven turned around to talk to Vicky, we were listing to the left, into the opposing lane of traffic.
"Steven!" I yelped.
He looked lazily to the front, one hand on the wheel. He lurched back into his lane, making my stomach twist and jump.
I closed my eyes tightly and felt how the cotton candy I had bought at the parade was reacting uncomfortably in my stomach. I tried to shake off the sickening sensation of impending death and looked out the window,
We had been driving for maybe half an hour, always at least fifteen miles above the speed limit. I saw nothing but corn and soybeans as far as the eye could see. Every now and then, a wide field spotted with black cows, or massive rolls of hay.
I was contemplating how angry my mom would be if I called her and begged for a ride. I didn't want to get in a go-cart with Steven ever again, much less a car.
I glared at the back of his head. At the peeling red skin I could see between the pale orangey-blonde bristles. While I was at it, I glared at Tricia's tawny tangle. It was all her fault that I was here.
---
I stretched my legs and shielded my eyes with my hand to get a good look at the house. The glare from the setting sun was orange and sharp.
The place was surrounded by a windbreak of cottonwoods. There was a barn, but no animals. It was just a garage for what looked like half a dozen rusty vehicles, plus some farming equipment that actually looked new and usable.
The long driveway had four cars in it. I could see a bunch of shadows flickering around the massive conflagration in the backyard, at the edge of the shoulders-high corn.
We moved around back, and I could see them more clearly. Six or seven people, surrounding the fire. One girl was holding a bottle of what looked like rum and dressed only in her shorts and a bikini top. All of the guys were shirtless.
I felt my eyes linger on the muscles under the skin of one of the boys. His pectorals bunched and lengthened in an alive way as he lifted the rum bottle to his mouth for a moment. I saw bubbles sink up through the clear liquid, and I saw a rivulet go down his chin.
I looked back down at the scruffy grass and walked over to the fire. Now that I was out of the car, I was smiling. I couldn't shake off the sweet chemical elation of being out of that car. The mix of adrenaline and endorphins was intoxicating enough as it was.
I sat down and the boy with the muscular chest handed me the rum bottle. "Welcome stranger, who are you?"
Tricia sat down between us on the scruffy grass. "This is my friend from high school, Jamie! Jamie, this is Jake. This is his house."
She took the rum bottle from Jake and took a swig. I didn't look at his face for more than a second. I've never been very good at looking people in the eye. But I got an impression of straight low brows and blue laughing eyes and a wry but achingly full mouth. I glanced back up at his lips for a split second just to justify my first impression. They were very sensuous and full, pink. There was something very... very sexual about his mouth that was hard to ignore.
I looked back down and took the rum bottle from Tricia to take a gulp. It burned my throat on the way down. Tricia jabbered on between us, and I was grateful. It took the pressure off.
