TWENTY
“About that drink?”Rae was out of breath, coming straight off the dance floor and spinning into my solitude.
Alpine’s only bar was a brown brick building sandwiched between a pharmacy and a dentist’s office. The scuff on the hardwood floor was noticeable even in the low, red mood lighting. People packed inside, gathering in groups like clusters of wildflowers. Tonight, everyone dressed in color and wore cowboy motifs on their belts, sweaters, and boots. I stood out in my simple white top and basic jeans.
I’d kept to a standing table smashed against the wall, taking in the line dancing and how easily Rae floated across the room. One moment, she had the bartender leaning all the way over the bar just to say ‘hi’ to her. And the next she danced with the mayor, the mayor’s daughter, and then the mayor’s sister. All of whom watched her fly to the next patch of flowers with longing.
In one night, Rae and Co. spoke to more townspeople than I’d done since moving here. They were flames, beckoning moths with a special brand of newness.
Rae’s dark brown skin shimmered in body oil and a light brush of glitter on her collarbones. She wore an off-the-shoulder white top, a colorful tiered skirt that boasted no less than a thousand layers, and cowboy boots with floral embroidery. A beaded vest that buttoned up tight enough to mimic the support of a corset depicted horses running free in the countryside. It took a concentrated effort to only admire the delicate work of the orange-beaded sunset and not the soft curve of her cleavage.
“What?” The blaring music, the chatty people, and the overwhelm of her smile being directed toward me were more than enough to make English sound like utter nonsense.
“I wanted to buy you a drink.” Rae leaned over, trying to make herself clearer. She touched my hand while doing it, as if her words would transform into some telepathic message.
My mind became more muddled. “I have one.”
A sweating bottle of lemonade sat before me, my only company for the night. Not even my brother seemed interested in wallflower duties. He’d left my side as soon as the rest did, finding himself in conversation with some guy who owned a pumpkin patch and sold candles to a boutique shop in Italy.
“Something to eat, then?” Rae asked.
“Is your ankle feeling better?”
Her brows wrinkled. “Sorry, what?”
“You’ve been dancing.” It was all I’d been able to concentrate on. The way she’d taken someone else’s hand and tugged them onto the dance floor. The way she spun and sang and laughed. And how she’d leaned her head back, exposing her neck and every perfect angle of her body.
Her smile’s knowing. “You’ve been watching.”
I scoffed, having to focus hard on keeping my voice steady. “Not much else to do.”
I’d watched with an embarrassing desire to have been the one she asked. Because I would have done more than anyone else in this building to make sure people didn’t bump into her while she moved.
I would have done a better job carving out a space for her to do as many spins and dips as she wanted.
I would have pulled her against my chest when the crowd got too thick, and she needed a second to catch her breath against something stable.
“My ankle’s better. Barely a twinge anymore.” She fanned herself with her hand as she spoke. The beads of sweat trickling across her chest looked delicious.
“Still…be careful. Take it easy,” I spoke into my lemonade before taking a sip.
Rae’s gaze lingered on my neck as I drank. “You worried about me?”
“I don’t like seeing anyone in pain.”
She pressed the back of her thumb to her bottom lip, as if she were trying to figure out what to say. Before she found the words, the sharp feedback from the mic disrupted the music.
“Boo!” someone in the crowd yelled in disapproval when the playlist cut off, and the lights turned on to a harsh white overhead beam.
“Alright, alright,” Maggie Rainwood stepped onto an upside-down box someone had placed on stage for her. “I thought you all might like the idea of winning some money today, but maybe I was wrong?”
The crowd cheered, and energy quickly shifted. Maggie’s smile widened.
“Yeah, I figured.” She gestured to someone at the bar to turn the music down a bit. A live banjo started playing, and Maggie pulled out a cowboy hat the size of Texas. “We’re here tonight to see who’s got the biggest and baddest crew in the business.”
I pressed my lips together, swallowing a laugh. Since this was my first event in town, I tried not to judge too much. My lack of enjoyable social experiences tainted my perspective on everything community-based. I would have excused myself much earlier if Rae wasn’t all light and wonder. Going back home to Elmwood’s quiet sounded almost torturous when I knew she’d be here using that deep voice to make everyone in contact want to melt.
“Be right back.” Rae squeezed my hand before hurrying to the side of the stage where groups of people gathered. I opened my mouth, almost asking what she was doing before remembering she’d bought tickets for this.
