Page 101 of Make Me Laugh

Joey’s been quiet but finally speaks up. “You’re not going to be happy with that.” They lovingly go back and forth about it while Kell strikes up a conversation with the people at the table beside us.

By the time we’re halfway through our second round, Joey’s betting Frankie she can get the band to let her come up and sing. She even goes as far as to say, “and if you tell me not to, may I direct you to the comedian to your left?” Joey motions to me.

I wave lovingly and bat my lashes.

“I’m also happy to remind you how I begged you to stop egging him on.” Joey rests her chin in the palms of her hands, waiting to see if Frankie will argue.

I scowl at Joey like she’d called me every bad name in the book.

Thankfully, Frankie has my back. “And look how well it’s going. Can I get a thank you?”

After a few more minutes of their entertaining banter, Joey gets up, beelining for the music tent. She’s a woman on a mission, determined to get somewhere, and by the time we’ve managed to catch up to her, she disappears into the dancing crowd.

“Well,” Frankie says, rolling her shoulders and clearing her throat. “What should I sing?”

Enzo and I scan the drunk, vivacious crowd. I can tell we’re both thinking the same thing—there’s no way the band’s going to let some random woman come on stage to sing with the crowd as invested in their performance as they are.

Kell answers with his goofy-ass smile. “Free Bird!”

Frankie flicks him on the nose as the current song ends. There’s a long pause after we see a familiar hand pop up from the front barricade. The lead singer leans down, and we all notice his eyes grow wide.

He returns to the mic, nodding at Joey. “You all having a good time tonight?” The audience cheers, giving the lead singer the answer he’s looking for. “Oh, hell yeah! We are too… And we just found out we have someone in the audience who can spice things up a little bit!” People get excited, screaming louder than before. “You all don’t mind if we invite someone up for a song or two, do ya?” he asks, and everyone, including myself, Enzo, and Kell scream loudly. “Alright, perfect! Where’s Frankie?”

Frankie goes on to kill a couple covers of two popular rock songs from the 80s by female vocalists, and before she’d even sang her first note, Joey weaves her way back through the crowd and grabs me by the hand.

I have no idea where Enzo or Kell end up, and I don’t actually care. Not when Joey’s this close and she’s wearing my favorite dark and fruity perfume.

She doesn’t stop my hands from grabbing her waist, and just when I expect her to step on my foot for pulling her ass tight against my lap, she surprises me by pressing in harder. Her hips sway to the music naturally, hair cascading down her back.

I wish I could say it’s only a sexual attraction I feel towards Joey, but I’d be lying to myself if I did. Yes, she’s hot, duh, but it’s so much fucking more than that.

I want to take her home to my parents. I want to tell the world that I think I’m in love with her. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to make her my future wife.

We’re hidden in the middle of a group of people far older than us, and Joey knows it, or she wouldn’t allow this to happen.

During the second song, Joey spins around to face me, our bodies still pressed together. We’re so close… It would be easy to lean in and press my lips to hers, but that would cross the line Joey drew.

This dancing should cross that line too, but I’ll let her have it, because it’s a win for me. I hold her hand above her head, and she laughs, spinning under my arm a few times before Frankie ends her last song with a thank you, followed by a social media shout out before taking a short cut off the stage.

She slides on her butt off the front and crawls over half the barricade by herself before accepting a group of drunk women’s help down the other side.

When Frankie joins us on the dance floor, the rest of the night flies by.

I leave Joey and Frankie to dance together, using it as an opportunity to get everyone one last drink before the night ends. On my way to the last open beer stand, I accidentally make eye contact with Olive the opener… A MILF who would let me take her home right this second if I asked.

“Well, look who it is. West Parker himself. We all thought you’d left without saying bye.” She saunters over, adding an extra pop to her hips. Olive motions to a few faces I recognize from earlier, intercepting my destination to the bar.

I for sure hadn’t planned on making an effort to seek anyone out and say goodbye…

Olive slides her arm around my middle back, stepping into my side. I tense, but she doesn’t seem to mind, taking another sip of her drink.

“Look who decided to come say hello!” Olive squeezes my side and rests her head on my shoulder for a quick second.

Everyone voices a hello, breaking into small talk while I peel myself from Olive. I add an extra step in between us, hoping she’ll get the hint.

I listen to whatever the guy with the bandana’s saying about Philly’s comedy scene, trying not to hyper-fixate on my best escape route.

It doesn’t work.