We all took turns to host Independence Day celebrations, but I had to say that Brody’s place was the best place to have it well, until Chuck and Haley’s house and pool were finished. Brody didn’t host us very often, especially since we gathered so often at the bar, but his house just outside of town was actually pretty nice, even if it wasn’t very big. He was more interested in the land and location, not the actual structure of his living space.
The land was really what made the place special. He swore up and down that he had very minimal landscaping done, but the backyard was just full of plants typical to the region, all tastefully arranged around his seating area. He had a fire pit in the middle of the chairs that I hoped to God no one would suggest lighting up tonight. It was positively sweltering.
“That beer in the cooler better be ice cold,” I said, approaching it.
“Well, the crappy beer just got put on ice,” he said. “But I’ve got some really cold shit for you here to try.”
He handed me a beer with an artful, brightly colored label. “Oh, Brody. This isn’t one of your special project beers, is it?”
“It’s a nice beer,” he insisted. “Just try it.”
“For the record, I’m not Jack,” I said, opening the bottle. “I don’t care what you serve in the bar, as long as it’s cold and it’ll get me drunk.” I took a cautious sip, under extreme pressure as Brody scrutinized me. “Can you not do that?”
“Tell me what you think, and I’ll stop staring at you.”
I sighed and closed my eyes before taking another quick chug. “It’s, well, it’s cold.”
“You have to give me more than that, Sloan.”
“It’s cold and delicious,” I said, nodding with finality. “Little bit of citrus in it, tastes like. Nice on a day like today. But still hoppy, somehow.”
“It’s an IPA.”
“It’s whatever you want it to be, Brody.”
“I’m trying to tell you what this beer is about,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you want to hear it? The brewers are practically local.”
“I believe you,” I said. “I don’t need a dissertation on my beer. All I need is to drink it.”
“Suit yourself,” Brody said, clearly disappointed. “Have you seen Jack yet? Is he here? I wanted to make sure he got a chance to try it.”
Jack was currently ambling over to our position, but I quickly signaled to him to flee. He ducked behind some flora just in time for Brody to turn around to see who I was waving at.
“I haven’t seen him yet,” I said. “Let me know what I can do to help, okay?”
The afternoon was really heating up, so I moved farther into the shade of the covered porch with my cold beer to compensate, loosely supervising Ace and Chuck as they organized the fireworks.
“I think we should start off with something big,” Ace was saying, pointing at one of the biggest he’d brought. “Get everyone’s attention.”
“No, no, no,” Chuck chastised. “You don’t understand the poetry of a fireworks display. You start small, then you work your way up to big.” He rearranged the explosives, making Ace mutter a curse. “You shouldn’t be starting with the biggest one. That should be for the finale.”
“Didn’t you guys say that you could see the show from town perfectly well from here?” Katie asked, watching the proceedings from a wrought iron chair that I was surprised wasn’t burning the skin off the backs of her legs. I supposed it was okay since it wasn’t sitting in the sun, but I still couldn’t fathom sitting in it on a day like today. I wanted to be up and moving around, ready to catch whatever passing breeze I could.
“Yeah, which means they have a really good view of our show, afterward,” Ace said.
“They love trying to show up the show in town,” I told Katie as she rolled her eyes.
“You guys, I thought we agreed no fireworks competition this year.” Jack had circled around, somehow kept out of Brody’s sight, and made the porch without being detected. He pursed his lips as he regarded the row of explosives laid out on the table.
“It’s not a competition,” Chuck protested, defensive. “It’s a tribute.”
“Oh, is that what you’re calling it?” Jack asked, raising a single eyebrow.
“A contribution?” Ace tried. “It’s not going to be as big as last year.”
“What happened last year?” Katie asked.
“Fire department showed up, thinking there had been an explosion at an actual fireworks warehouse,” I explained. “And your boyfriend singed off his eyebrows and part of his beard.”
“Excuse me,” Ace said. “It was only one eyebrow.”
“If you all insist on shooting off fireworks, just be smart about it,” Jack said. “Ah, here comes Brody.”
“It’s a good beer this time,” I said as Brody brandished a bottle in each hand. “It’s an IPA, not that whiskey barrel-aged stuff.”
“If I want whiskey, I’ll drink whiskey,” Jack mumbled, clearly disgruntled. “When I want a beer, I don’t want it to taste like whiskey. I want it to taste like beer.”
“Here.” Haley popped out onto the porch from inside the house, a regular pilsner in hand. “In case you don’t like the IPA. It has citrus.”
“He already got to you?” Jack asked, accepting the beer.
“As soon as I got out of the SUV,” Haley said. “Just take it and try his beer now, or he won’t leave you alone for the rest of the day.”
Something I always found funny about Fourth of July celebrations ever since I came back from my tour in Iraq was that people tended to use the holiday as a prompt to thank veterans for their service. That was in addition to Veterans Day and Memorial Day, even though the latter was meant to remember those who had fallen in service. Of course, if the topic of military service ever came up in conversation and I was forced to reveal that I, too, was a veteran, that meant that a normal, casual day turned into a thank-a-veteran day, too.
I wasn’t trying to seem ungrateful for all that… It was just awkward when I was back over here, trying to get on with my life, and being constantly reminded that, once upon a time, I wielded a big gun and saw some shit that still regularly showed up in my memories unbidden. Couldn’t I just focus on being an electrician and having fun with the rest of the guys in the club? It wasn’t like I was still sporting fatigues or my dress uniform. I was fully ready, and had been for a while, to immerse myself in civilian life. So many other veterans had never had a chance to, caught up in PTSD or serious injuries or other hurdles they were having trouble overcoming. I just wanted to be normal again, to fit in with all the things I’d left before.
At least the party Horizon MC put on was a reminder of that previous life. It was a chance for all of us to unwind and just have fun without our usual fundraising stress or responsibilities. We weren’t grilling burgers and hotdogs for the entire town, or looking to sell raffle tickets or solicit prizes. It was just us guys, Katie and Haley, and…Amy.
Jesus. I’d almost forgotten I’d invited her to this thing, and I almost instantly regretted the fact that I had. All I’d wanted to do was relax today, to drink beer and eat food and pop off some pyrotechnics, but it wasn’t looking like that was going to happen. I was going to be forced to recall my service after all not because she would ask me, but because I’d be thinking about it. I just couldn’t seem to get away from it.
“Hey, is that the writer you’ve been all knotted up over?” Jack asked, shading his eyes against the glint of the sun against her car.
“I invited her,” I said. “Hope that’s all right.”
“She’s gorgeous, of course it’s all right,” he said, elbowing Brody in the ribs. “One more pretty face at the party? Done.”
I felt immediately defensive and aggressive at the same time. Was Jack implying that he was going to flirt with Amy?
“What’s the problem?” he asked me with a knowing smirk. “You haven’t called dibs on her. Call dibs, if you want.”
“It’s…a lot more complicated than that,” I said.
“Feelings are complicated,” Brody agreed. “Dibs are not.”
“Will dibs make you all be civil and normal to her?”
“Hey, that’s offensive,” Brody said.
“Yeah, there’s nothing normal about any of us,” Jack said. “Come on, man. Have a little faith in your friends. You’re the one who invited her.”
And that was even more complicated, but I was done talking about it. I walked over to where Amy was getting out of her car and intercepted her before anyone else could get to her.
“Hey,” I said. “You made it.”
“I did,” she confirmed, closing the driver’s side door and walking around to the trunk. “It wasn’t so hard to find uh-oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
She looked at me. “I wasn’t supposed to come, was I?”
“What? What do you mean? I invited you, didn’t I?”
“Ah, dammit.” She stuck the key into the trunk and lifted the hatch open. “Here, please take this for the host. I’ll be going.”
“Amy, please stay. I invited you here, and I meant for you to come.”
“Are you sure?” She peered at me. “Because for a second, it felt like I’d mistaken a pity invite for a real one. There’s precedent for that. I’ve done that before.”
“It was a genuine invite, and I am genuinely glad you came,” I said. “There’s plenty of food and beer you didn’t have to bring that.”
She handed me a case of beer, then lifted a plastic box of store-bought cupcakes from the trunk before closing it. “I wasn’t about to show up to a Fourth of July party empty-handed, waiting to be fed and entertained. That’s not how I was raised.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “And I figure we could always use more beer.”
“And cupcakes.”
“And cupcakes.”
“More beer!” Brody cheered as he saw us approach. “Hey this is the good stuff. Well done, you.”
“This is Amy Ovalle,” I said. “She’s a writer.”
“I’m not a writer yet,” she corrected me quickly. “But it’s what I want to be.”
God, the stab of guilt was unbelievable. Did I really care that much about her fulfilling her hopes and dreams, especially when I knew what it would cost me personally? Maybe she was just in the process of worming her way into my heart, and I was letting her do it.
Maybe this was all a game for her. A method to get the information she needed for her story.
The thought was enough to make me shudder.
“I know you’re not cold,” she said, handing me a beer from the case Brody was finding room for in the coolers. “It’s hot out today.”
“It’s hot out every day,” I confirmed. “It’s summer in Rio Seco. We’re in the desert. You can’t escape the heat.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s unbearable,” she said, taking a sip from her beer. “You’ve obviously never done summer in the deep south. At least Rio Seco doesn’t have any humidity.”
“How deep south are we talking about? I thought you were from Los Angeles.”
“No, no,” she said. “I live in Los Angeles now. I grew up in Alabama.”
“Wow, really?”
“Don’t give me that look,” she said, throwing her head back and laughing. “There are plenty of Latinos living in Alabama.”
“That wasn’t the look I was giving you,” I protested. “You just…I don’t know. You make a little more sense to me, now.”
Maybe it was just me, but I could’ve sworn her cheeks flushed a little bit. “You think so?”
“You just didn’t seem like you could be from LA.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Hey!” Jack said brightly, interrupting our conversation. “Remember us?” Ace was beside him, toting a bag of charcoal.
“Of course I remember you guys,” Amy said. “How are you all?”
“Doing well, now,” Ace said. “But about to be a whole lot better once we get this grill started up. Are you more of a hotdog or hamburger girl?”
“To be honest, I’m kind of a one-of-each girl,” she said. “Don’t judge me.”
“Judgment-free zone,” Ace told her. “There’ll be plenty, whatever you choose. Welcome.”
“Thanks for having me well, thanks for Sloan inviting me,” she said. “I hope it’s okay.”
“It’s better than okay,” Jack said as Ace started prepping the grill. “We always like to have fresh faces around. Puts us on our best behavior.”
“I hope it won’t be your very best behavior,” Amy said. “I heard that you all had lots of beer.”
“Oh, yes,” Jack assured her. “You just have to promise one thing.”
My insides curdled a little, trying to guess what Jack might say to her, but she just laughed. “What’s that?”
“You’re a writer, right?” he asked.
“Not yet, but someday.”
Jack smiled at her. “Trust me. You’re already a writer. You’re already thinking about things as a writer. Observing things with a writer’s eyes, a writer’s mindset.”
Amy look a little flustered. “Well, thank you for that incredibly inspiring pep talk, but where does the promise come in?”
“Treat today as pleasure instead of business,” he said. The statement was delivered as lightly as a suggestion, but I recognized an order when I heard it.
I was surprised when Amy readily agreed. “Everything’s off the record today, I promise. I’m here to party, not to write.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jack said, and he clinked his bottle against hers. “Let me know if there’s anything we can do to make your time here more enjoyable or if Sloan starts irritating you.”
“Hey!”
“Will do,” Amy said, laughing. She looked at me as Jack wandered off. “You have some pretty good friends, you know.”
“I do know it.”
“You’re still looking at me funny.”
“I’m just glad they didn’t scare you off.”
“I’m impossible to scare off.”
“And if we’re being honest here…”
“Please.”
“I’m still reeling about that Alabama revelation.”
She chortled. “Seriously? What’s wrong with Alabama?”
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with Alabama. You’re obviously the one who has a problem with Alabama.”
“I’m going to have to disagree with you on that one,” she spluttered. “That’s my motherland, Alabama. Roll tide!”
“If you love it so much, why did you leave it?”
A cloud passed over her face, but it left as quickly as it’d come. “It would’ve been hard to be a writer where I grew up, and that’s what I wanted more than anything. More than staying in Alabama, even.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I really was. “That went…darker than I meant it to. I was only trying to tease you a little bit.”
“I hope you’re not trying to flirt with me,” she said, batting her eyelashes at me.
And, goddammit, maybe it was because I’d taken off at a sprint with drinking today, but I batted my eyelashes right back at her. “And what would you do if I was flirting with you?”
If my behavior shocked her, she didn’t let on. “I’d enjoy myself,” she said, grinning broadly. “You’re easy on the eyes, Sloan, and I’ve been instructed to have a good time today.”
Well. Color me surprised, then. Amy took a long pull of her beer, waggled her eyebrows at me, and strutted off toward the porch. Haley waved at her as she approached, and Chuck joined me even as Ace lit the grill and made the air temperature roughly a thousand degrees hotter than it already was.
“So, this is the woman who’s been driving you crazy these past few weeks?” Chuck asked me, watching as Haley and Amy laughed at a highly-animated story Katie was telling probably about the rest of us. “She’s quite a catch.”
“I’m not looking to catch anything from her,” I said, then winced. “Well, that came out wrong.”
“Yes, sir, it did,” he said solemnly before guffawing. “I hope, for your sake, that you’re not this awkward when you’re around her.”
“Oh, just a million times worse,” I sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing with her.”
“Just enjoy yourself, man.”
“She wants to know about Iraq. That’s why she’s here.”
“Ah. That’s a little problematic.”
“You’re telling me.” I coughed, helplessly inhaling a lungful of smoke drifting over from the charcoal. “Dammit, Ace.”
“Smoke follows beauty, Sloan,” he reminded me. “And can I just say that you are positively glowing today? Is there someone attending the party who makes your cheeks that rosy red?”
Chuck lowered his sunglasses to eye me. “I don’t suppose you put on any sunscreen today, did you? You’re getting fucking toasted, man.”
“Ugh.” I patted my own cheeks. “No wonder I’m so hot.”
“No, no, it’s hot out here,” Chuck said. “But we’d better find some shade for you.”
I had a little bit of a buzz going on as we plopped down in some chairs in the shade stretching from a cluster of brush. The tangles of branches and thorns didn’t look like much right now, but during the spring, they’d bloomed into a riotous mess of yellow and purple and pink.
“I wish that pool of yours was finished already,” I told Chuck, dragging a cold beer across my forehead. “That would be amazing in this heat.”
“It’s just something we’ll have to look forward to next year,” he said, taking a swig from his beer. “Look at it this way this is the last year you’ll be sweating on the Fourth of July.”
“God willing,” I said, grim. “Just think of all of us floating on our own inflatable swans, watching the city’s fireworks.”
“I think you’re overestimating just how big that pool is going to be,” Chuck said, looking dubious.
“We could share swans,” I suggested, laughing at the mental image that popped up. “You know it would be amazing.”
“I mean, maybe.” Chuck actually seemed to consider it for a minute or two. “But I’m just thinking about the logistics, here.”
“Fuck the logistics,” I recommended. “Horizon MC. Pool. Swans. It’s a magical combination.”
“You guys know of a pool around here?” Amy had sidled up to us without me noticing. That either meant she was good at sneaking around or I was so comfortable with her presence that I just didn’t notice her anymore. The latter option scared me a little.
“There’s a municipal pool the next town over,” Chuck said. “Soon, though, Haley and I will have a pool.”
“That’ll be nice,” Amy said brightly. “Are you all planning on entertaining often?”
“Oh, definitely,” I said, answering for him. “I think they’re going to have thrice-weekly swim meets.”
“Is that a fact?” Chuck asked, obviously not impressed. “I think I might have to run that one by Haley.”
“What are we running by me again?” Haley asked, reaching high to toss her arm around Chuck’s shoulders. The size discrepancy between those two was really something.
“Sloan here is trying to get us to have him over to swim any time he wants, basically,” he explained to her. “I told you we should’ve crowdsourced the pool.”
“I mean, I believe you, now,” she said. “I just didn’t think everyone was going to be so ridiculous about it.”
“Who’s being ridiculous about it?” I demanded, hurt. “Not me, right?”
“Yes, of course it’s you,” Haley said, exasperated. “But it’s also Ace and Jack and Brody. All of you are making plans for a pool that isn’t even yours.”
“Just charge admission,” Amy said. “Like a toll to use the pool. If they really want to swim in it as often as you’re saying they do, that pool will pay for itself in no time flat.”
Haley raised her eyebrows. “Girl, I like the way you think. I like it a lot.”
“At the very least, make them bring you some kind of token of appreciation or something,” Amy added. “Like a case of beer, or some groceries or something you need around the house.”
“Did you say you’re a writer?” Chuck asked, peering at her. “Because I think you could make a killing as a life coach.”
“Life coaches do a lot more than swindle people out of goods and funds,” I protested. “Can’t you see that’s all she’s advocating for?”
Amy laughed. “I’m just trying to even the playing field. Chuck and Haley are going to have something the rest of you guys want, so you should try and compensate them for it. You know, so you don’t screw over your friends.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “We were never going to screw them over. We just liked teasing them about taking over their pool.”
“I know just how much truth there is in jest,” Amy said. “Don’t try to pull one over on me, too.”
The sun slipped down below the horizon, all of the food came off the grill, and everyone set in to drinking with a passion. I was pleasantly surprised that Amy could more than hold her alcohol. I didn’t know why it pleased me. Maybe I just liked someone who looked like she could keep up with me even if I was already feeling more than a little drunk. I was honestly having a good time with Amy. After Jack had made her promise to extract the business from her visit and just enjoy herself, she was wonderful to be around. If she had an awkward moment with anyone, it was always me. Otherwise, she seemed to fit in seamlessly with the group, and I had to wonder at that.
Wonder at why it felt so damn good.
“Thank you so much for inviting me here,” Amy said when the opportunity arose, just us two out in the backyard while the rest of everyone had drifted closer to the porch. “You didn’t really have to.”
“I felt bad,” I said, shrugging. “No one should have to spend the Fourth of July alone.”
“I’d been planning on going to the town celebration,” she said.
“This one’s a lot more fun,” I said. “Better people, more booze.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is a lot less of a family affair than the town celebration.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” I surveyed the rest of the guys as they milled around Brody’s backyard, chatting and laughing and eating. “This is just a different kind of family.”
“I like it.”
“Really?” I cocked my head at her. “The guys can be kind of…frank.”
“If you think a couple of cuss words are going to make me shrink like a fragile flower, you’ve got another thing coming,” she said. “I’ve lost count of the times my mother washed my mouth out with soap for cursing around her.”
“See, that just tells me that you are incapable of learning from your mistakes,” I pointed out, laughing. “Not that you embrace naughty words.”
“I guess that’s true, too.”
The first firework popped in the distance, and we all bellowed a cheer, the rest of the guys joining us in the yard.
“Let’s see what you got, Rio Seco!” Ace hollered, shaking his fist in the air.
“It’s not supposed to be a competition,” Chuck reminded him quickly, jerking his thumb at Jack.
We all turned to our fearless leader, waiting for a witty comeback shutting the two wannabe arsonists down, but Jack looked stricken instead of amused.
“Hey, you okay, bud?” Ace asked, glancing quickly at the rest of us. “Jack?”
“Sorry,” Jack said quickly, blinking fast. “I don’t know…fireworks have never bothered me before.”
“Maybe it has to do with the memory that resurfaced for you,” Ace suggested. “It’s okay. A lot of veterans don’t like fireworks.”
“Do you want to leave?” Chuck asked. “I could take you in Haley’s SUV.”
“No, no,” Jack said, waving us away. I realized we were kind of hovering, and backed off. “I like fireworks. I love fireworks. It’s stupid to feel like this.”
“It’s not stupid” Ace tried to say, but Jack cut him off.
“It is stupid. All I want to do is enjoy the Fourth of July with my friends. Can we do that, please?”
“Of course we can,” Brody said easily. “Need something else to drink?”
“God, yes,” Jack sighed. “You know, at this point, I would take even one of your damn fancy beers.”
“Really?” Brody asked, bright and excited, and the rest of us laughed.
“That’s how we can tell he’s really not feeling like himself,” I informed Amy, who was hanging close by my elbow. “He hates craft beer.”
“Doesn’t he realize that drinking one craft beer is basically the equivalent of two regular beers?” she asked.
“What?”
Amy gaped comically at me. “Do you not know, either? The alcohol content in craft beers is so much higher than regular beers. You get drunker quicker.”
“Well, that would explain this buzz,” I said, shaking my head a little and feeling it spiral. “You know, Brody should definitely lead with that when he’s trying to sell us on craft beer. We don’t give a shit about mouth feel or whatever the fuck.”
“You guys talking about mouth feel?” Brody asked eagerly, returning from the cooler with an armful of beers, making us both laugh. “This one is really velvety with a hoppy finish.”
“I’m more interested in the alcohol content,” I said. “And I think that’s how you should talk about it.”
“Okay, then,” he said, doubtful, handing me a bottle. “This one will get you if you’re not careful.”
“Now that’s the information I need to know,” I said, cracking the beer open and taking a sip of it. “You know what? You said velvet before, and I felt the velvet.”
“Welcome, brother,” Brody said, patting my arm.
Despite Jack vowing to enjoy the Fourth of July fireworks display and celebration, he left Brody’s rather early before Chuck and Ace had even finished hashing out the details of their answer to Rio Seco’s show, making excuses about being tired.
“I’m worried about him,” Brody confided to me. “Ever since that episode at the bar, I don’t think he’s been the same.”
“Can you blame him?” I asked. “He’s lived for years without a clue who he really is,outside of who people tell him he was. When you get a sudden memorya real one of a time you haven’t been able to remember before, I’d say that would shake a person up a little bit.”
“Jack has amnesia?” Amy asked.
I hesitated. “It’s not really something he likes to talk about.”
“But you’re talking about it,” she pointed out. “Right?”
“We’re just worried about him,” I assured her. “It’s not gossip if you’re worried.”
“And I told him it was all off the record, me being here. I’m worried, too. Tell me.”
“He was told he might not recover his memory after losing it in an explosion while he was an Army Ranger,” I said. “And just the other week, he had a memory he couldn’t explain. Something from before the explosion.”
“Explosions explain why the fireworks bother him,” Amy said, nodding to herself.
“That’s just it, though. They didn’t before. He loves the Fourth of July. Loves fireworks. This is the first time they’ve bugged him.”
“And you think it’s because of the memory he got back.”
“That’s right. Maybe that one memory is the first warning droplets of the flood that’s to come.”
“God, what would that even be like?”
“We thought he was having a stroke when he had that first memory.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” I sighed, then smiled. “You can understand why we’re worried about him, now.”
“Yes. I can.” She smiled back. “And you’re right. It’s not gossip if you’re worried. I can tell you all care about him. You have a good group of friends.”
“We didn’t scare you off tonight?”
“Of course not.”
“Damn. We’re losing our touch, then.”
Amy laughed so musically that I stared at her in wonder. She was so beautiful. I didn’t care that it was probably the beers talking. She’d been beautiful this whole time she just scared the shit out of me before. Now, though, without the specter of what she really wanted from me hanging over my head, I could just sit back and enjoy being around her.
Chuck and Ace’s fireworks show began, showering us with lights and colors and happiness. Amy tilted her head up to follow the streaks of sparks across the night sky, drowning out the brightness of the stars, if only for a few brief seconds, and I could see the person she really was, the curious one, the one who wasn’t afraid to ask hard questions, the one who wanted to tell people’s stories because she truly cared about them. Her face was so open, watching those fireworks, and I was so fascinated by it, that I didn’t even have the sense to look away when she turned toward me.
Her lips pursed in question, then curved upward as my face tilted downward, almost of its own accord. It was a sweet, questioning kiss we shared, one lit by showers of gold and green and blue. She smiled against my mouth, then we deepened the contact at the same time as if we’d coordinated it. Amy’s tongue felt like velvet, or maybe it was just that damn mouth feel thing from the beer Brody had been talking about, and she tasted sweet enough to count as dessert after the burgers and hotdogs we’d been noshing all day.
I felt like I could kiss her forever under the pyrotechnics until reality sort of slammed back into place. The fireworks would be over soon. The party would end. And when I woke up tomorrow, Amy would be a thorn in my side again, clawing her way toward the story that I wanted to share with her even less, now.
Why in the hell had I kissed her? What had happened to make me fuck up so badly?
I covered my mouth with my hand. “I’m sorry.”
If anything, she looked a little dazed. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. That was a mistake. And I’m sorry for making it.”
“Sloan, really. You don’t have to apologize. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“You don’t understand.” She couldn’t understand because I didn’t understand. What had come over me? I didn’t know anything about this woman. She was looking for my deepest secrets. What was her article even going to include? I could imagine the beginning of it going something along the lines of: “After Sloan Norris kissed me, he opened up about all of the horrors he’d endured in Iraq.”
Only, Jesus Christ, is that why she’d let me kiss her? Was it all some kind of ploy? How could I be sure?
“Sloan, are you all right?” Amy was staring at me, her big, dark eyes serving as mirrors to the fireworks above us.
I shook my head. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
“Are you going to be sick?”
My stomach was in knots. “Maybe.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
“No. I think I just need…need to get some space.”
Her hand wrapped around my elbow. “I could take you back to your place.”
“I” Boy, that was an invitation. An invitation for more. And a bad idea. No way. I did not want to be in a confined space with Amy. Not now. Probably not ever. “That’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“It’s not an inconvenience. I really don’t mind. And if you end up puking in the car, who cares? It’s a rental.”
“I think…” God, I just wanted to get away from her. She was making me feel so paranoid right now. Why had I kissed her? Had she in some way orchestrated it? Could I have been brainwashed into wanting to kiss her? The idea was laughable. The moment had been real, both of us standing shoulder to shoulder, watching the sky ignite. It had been real, and that was what frightened me the most. That I was somehow opening up to Amy. If I kept peeling back the layers for her, she’d reach the rotten part of me, and she’d recoil away from it. Or worse, she’d write about it, the decay, all of it. And then everyone would know what a monster I was.
“Sloan?”
“I think I’m just going to go inside and find somewhere to lie down,” I said finally. My gut was in a permanent state of unease. I wasn’t that drunk, and all the food I’d treated myself to had gone down fine to begin with. Now, though, I regretted all of it. The contents of my stomach seemed to be sloshing around as if there were a small typhoon in there. Maybe I’d make good on my promise and throw up just so I wouldn’t be branded a liar on top of everything else.
“Do you need any help?” Amy looked anxious, but I shook off her concerns.
“No. I’ll be fine after a nap. Have fun. Take care.”
The worst of it was that I wanted to kiss her again, right there and then, even if that was the action that had sent me spiraling into such turmoil in the first place. I was either some kind of masochist, or Amy was playing a game that good.