Page 86 of Intrepid

Bea chuckled and patted my knee. “You definitely didn’t inherit that wild spirit. But maybe that’s what you need.”

“Bea. I’m not dancing in the street with a bottle of wine. Cops would be all over that shit.”

“Well, it just so happens, the Selden Street Fair is going on right now. I wanted to see if you’d come with Simone and me. It’s a block party. There’ll be drinks, and food, and bands, and food, and dancing, and food.”

“But is there any food?”

“Get your ass dressed. You need this. Hell, we all need this. Life’s too short. You’ve got all next week to deal with your shitty dad.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “I don’t think so.”

“You got plans with Hottie McMotorcycle, or something?”

The thought of Ty shot a warm, tingly feeling up my spine, stamped out when it reached my head and I remembered I probably wouldn’t be seeing him until next week. Contrary to what he’d promised, the night I’d spent with him couldn’t have been more perfect. I’d lain in his arms all night, and the next morning, we had coffee on the roof, watching the sun rise before he drove me home. He’d told me he had some business to take care of and wouldn’t be around for a few days, though he did send me a text the night before to wish me a good night’s sleep—his raunchy version of course, challenging me not to touch myself until I saw him next.

My first time with him had been far more romantic than any other guy I’d been with, which was basically Dean, and a senior I once went out with as a sophomore. The thought of those two experiences gave me the bad variety of chills. Nothing like being with Ty, who’d made me feel like the center of his universe, until he’d finally dropped me off at the apartment. Even then, he didn’t seem to want to let me go, and we’d kissed in front of the building for a good twenty minutes.

Bea, of course, had given me shit. And I still owed her a dozen Krispy Kremes.

“Not tonight,” I answered, glancing back at a stack of books on the desk beside my bed. “I was going to do some studying.”

She tipped her head, eyes swirling with all kinds of disapproval. “You are not staying home on a Friday night to study. Especially when you’re feeling down like this. Now, as your roommate, who has your best interests in mind, I am telling you to get your ass in gear and get some clothes on.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe I needed to just be eighteen, and wild like my mother, and not carry the weight of someone’s fate all night. What good would it do me to sit and wallow in misery, anyway? Jo would’ve hated knowing I stressed so much over her.

“Okay. But … I’m not staying out all night, or anything.”

“Couple hours. It’ll be fun. Promise.”

* * *

Fox In A Box railed through the speakers set at each side of the stage, where the Gore Gore Girls hammered on their guitars for the sweaty, claustrophobic-looking crowd gathered around them.

I watched from a distance, sipping what Bea had referred to as jungle juice from a Solo cup. She and Simone had gotten in on the mosh-pit toward the front of the stage—an absolute no-no for me, so I’d parked myself on a wooden picnic table, beside my half eaten corndog, from where I could see them.

Selden Street had been blocked off at both ends and morphed into a half mile of tents, Porta-johns, and tables. I liked the idea of being outside in the open, in the event a fight broke out, or a fire started—at least we weren’t trapped inside of a building, like the night at the Savarine.

Though I couldn’t help but smile at the memory of climbing down the chimney with Ty.

He definitely would’ve taken my mind off my father. Ty had a way of consuming me whenever he was around. The world, my worries, none of it seemed to exist when I was with him, as if we lived inside our own little bubble.

Although, something was making me feel pretty damn relaxed all of a sudden.

Heat radiated across my cheeks, and the worry from before dissipated into a warm, cozy sensation. With the music playing, the cool night breeze, and the delicious drink in my hand, everything felt right.

I smiled and kicked back another sip, noticing my drink was nearly gone. Once, during senior year, Dean had managed to coax me into a lemon drop shot that’d got me so drunk, I vowed to stay away from alcohol for the rest of my life.

Leave it to my father to stress me into breaking my vow.

I pushed from the table to toss away the cup and plate, but stumbled backward, my field of vision slowly trailing behind the turn of my head.

What the hell …

“Need another?”

I turned to the sound of the unrecognizable voice, and found a guy in a beanie cap sitting next to me. Long straggly brown hair stuck out from his hat around his gunmetal gray eyes.

“Do I know you?” My voice slurred with the question, and I screwed my mouth shut at the disturbing evidence that I might’ve sipped my drink too fast. Bea had warned me to take it slow, but the fruity taste reminded me of the virgin daiquiris Jo had made for me sometimes during summer, when my father wasn’t around and we’d sat by the pool.