Butterfly Kisses (The Butterfly Chronicles #2)
Page 7
“Britt said you were running low on funds,” he says as he pulls me over closer to the corner. He leans into me, pressing me against the brick as his hand rests against the brick by my head. His other hand slides something into my back pocket, and I know he’s giving me another pack of cigarettes. He lets his hand linger there, and his face is close to mine. He goes in for a kiss, and I panic, turning my face. My eyes lock with brown ones.
“Is everything OK here?” Tomas asks as he’s getting ready to walk into the quicky mart.
“Yeah we’re cool.” Todd dismisses him.
“Lana?” he asks.
“Um-yeah,” I say quickly. His eyebrows furrow, but he goes inside anyway. I push Todd’s hand out of my back pocket, and he leans away laughs.
“When do I get to take you out?” he asks, smiling widely.
“I don’t know,” I say before I take a long drink of my big gulp. I look in the window and see Tomas finishing his purchase. Then he comes back out. He pauses at the door, looking at me for a long time like he’s debating something.
Then he says, “Lana, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask, stepping away from Todd.
“It’s about that project we have in class. My bag is in my truck; can you come with me?” I look at him in confusion, but my back is to Todd now, and Tomas gives me a tight smile. I follow him to a new silver Silveraldo at pump four. He puts the pump in his gas tank and opens his passenger door. He pulls a backpack from the floor and takes out a spiral notebook. Then he writes down a phone number and hands it to me. “I’ve tried to find you on Status Quo, but I haven’t been able to. Here’s my number. Will you promise me something?” I look at him and only nod. “If you get yourself into a situation that you need to get out of it, you’ll call me. I don’t care what time or where you are; I’ll come get you.” He looks over his shoulder at Todd, who’s smoking another cigarette and watching us closely. “I don’t think you should be hanging out with that guy.”
“I’m OK. I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself,” I say for lack of anything else.
“I know, but it’s too late now; you already promised me,” he smiles. His pump pops, and he removes it. I shut the door after I shove his phone number in my back pocket, the same pocket with the pack of smokes Todd gave me. I wave goodbye to Tomas and walk across the lot to Britt standing by her car.
Lacey
I must have been living under a rock because I didn’t even realize that homecoming was only a week away. Tasha fills Jade and me in on the hap-happening as she drives the hour trip to Crawfordsville in her burgundy Cadillac convertible. She has apparently been flirting pretty heavily with Paul Markel, her current secret crush, though I’m not sure how secret it is since she is laying it on pretty thick. Apparently though, he hasn’t gotten the hint.
“Are you going with Evan?” Tasha asks as she glances at Jade, Tasha’s entire face glittering as car lights pass us on the divided highway.
“He hasn’t asked. Their homecoming is the following week, so I don’t know. Really, I’m not sure if he’s a school dance kind of guy.” She shrugs. Jade really isn’t a school dance kind of girl either and only went to the dances Tasha dragged us to. We never had dates, and now that we are actually of the age that boys might be and actually are interested in us, I’m not so sure her opinion has changed.
“You totally have to go with us, well, that is if Paul asks me,” Tasha tells Jade, and I can hear the excitement drain from her voice.
I lean forward from the back seat to assure her “He’ll ask.”
“Are you going to go?” she asks almost as an afterthought.
“I’m not planning on it. I’ll probably have to work anyway,” I say, not really worrying about it. I mean, who would go with me anyway? It’s not like anyone likes me right now. So yeah, Chase admitted having feelings for me last spring, and we flirt sometimes, but he checks out other girls just as much if not more than he flirts with me. And honestly, I don’t think Chase is a school dance kind of guy either. We arrive at a packed parking lot behind The Watering Hole. It’s a storefront bar in an old brick building on Main Street. We all look like club girls with our tight jeans, stiletto heels, and tank blouses. Our faces are made up dramatically, we’re covered in glitter, and our hair is fixed to perfection. OK, so sure we are in a podunk town where there are more tractors than cars, but we have to play the over twenty-one role. We strut up to the back door where an overweight, balding guy in a yellow shirt and jeans sits on a stool by the door.
“Hey, hotties,” Moose smiles widely. After coming all summer long, we are regulars now. We all give an unconscious shiver, but he misses it as we’ve already passed him. Tasha and I automatically giggle, and Jade shivers again.
“Every time he says that, we do that,” she says rolling her eyes. “One of these days, he’s going to catch us and not let us in.”
The band, Toxic Chamber, is finishing their set as we survey the room to look for our empty table. We’re late because Tasha changed her outfit three times. But then we see the tall bar table slightly off center to the left that’s labeled reserved. That’s our table. Tasha and I go over to the table and climb up on the barstools, while Jade goes to get us sodas. This bar offers free soda to designated drivers, and since we are under age anyway, we aren’t brave enough to test limits. I think ultimately deep down, or maybe even closer to the surface, we are goodie-goodies through and through. The band finishes the set, and the lights come up a little as the staff helps them take down their equipment and set up for Chase’s band. From where I sit, I can see backstage, and I see Chase pacing with his guitar on his back, the arm facing down. He pauses and looks at our table, and then it’s as if all the tension leaves his face when his eyes meet mine. He motions for me, and I rise instantly.
“I’ll be right back,” I say to Tasha, but she’s too busy scanning the crowd.
I walk in front of the stage to the stairs on the other side of the bar. The empty tables that were holding Toxic Chamber fans are now filling with Cate’s Asses. As I pass, I stifle a giggle. You can tell who the girls’ favorite player is by the way they dress, basically matching the style of each band member. I climb the stairs and meet Chase by the curtains.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it; you’re so late,” he says as he pulls me into a tight hug.
“Tasha went through her entire wardrobe for tonight. She’s expecting a homecoming invite and had to look perfect,” I roll my eyes. He lets go of me, and his face loses all its color.
“Homecoming?” he questions. I knew it; he isn’t a school dance kind of guy.
“Yeah,” I shrug.
“Cate’s Ashes, you’re up in five,” a guy in all black says as he passes us. Chase nods at him and fidgets a little.
“Wish me luck?” he asks his eyes raw with emotion, and my breath catches. He’s nervous, anxious, and a little scared.
“Break a leg,” I say, punching his shoulder lightly. He chuckles because it’s what we say and do every time. I go back down to the main floor and over to our seat where Jade and Tasha are both gushing a mile a minute.
“I was hoping, but I totally wasn’t expecting it that way,” Tasha says as she fans herself. She keeps glancing across the room, and when I follow her gaze, I see Paul Markel standing in a group, staring at her with his light brown eyes. He’s mixed and has light skin and light eyes, but curly, jet black hair. His eyes are intoxicating and can draw any girl in.
“What did I miss?” I ask, smiling at Paul Markel as I turn back to Tasha.
“He asked. He came over and told me first—”
“—That she looked amazing tonight,” Jade interrupts their eyes are sparkling.
“And then he gave me these,” Tasha says, as she holds up a dozen beautiful, vibrant royal red roses wrapped and tied with an olive green satin ribbon. “He asked me to go to homecoming, and when I said yes, he kissed me.” She blushes as she looks back over at hi
m. This wasn’t Tasha’s first kiss, but by the look on her face you would think it was.
“I can’t believe it,” I say, smiling at my friend.
“He’s going to sit with us after the first set.” The lights lower and a hush comes over the crowd. All the guys come from behind stage and turn on their instruments. Chase plays acoustic guitar while all the others are electric. He fixes the mic and surveys the crowd. When our eyes meet, he smiles, and he passes his gaze over more faces until he stops and stares at someone. His face goes blank, but he can’t take his eyes away from whoever he’s looking at. I follow his stare and see a girl in a tight, so-skin-tight-I-wonder-if-she-can-breathe tight, flesh-colored short dress. She has dark brown curly hair, a heart-shaped face, heavily made up almond eyes, and tan skin. He doesn’t say anything, and Stain clears his throat before he says, “We’re Cate’s Ashes.” Chase looks at him apologetically before he glances at me and begins to strum his guitar.
“Who’s that?” I ask Jade because she’s the only one who might have a clue since Evan tells her everything, and she hangs out with him in Columbus a lot. She looks at me, confused, so I point discreetly. She follows my finger and begins to scowl. She looks at the stage, but the boys are in their zone; Chase sings and his eyes dart over the crowd resting on me every few minutes but completely avoiding the other girl.
“Jade, who is that?” I demand.
“It’s no one to worry about.” Which ultimately means, “Lacey, you should be worried.”
After that song, Chase sings a few more before he loosens up and introduces the band. We all cheer. I can’t stop looking at the new girl, who I now realize is standing with a group of kids from Columbus. I recognize some of them from other performances and a party we went to last spring. Then it hits me like a sack of bricks, and I lose sight of everything going on around me.
“That’s Emily, isn’t it?” I question barely above a whisper, realizing it’s Chase’s ex-girlfriend. Jade hears me though, or maybe she sees my lips move. She doesn’t say anything; she just looks at me with pity. I slump for a few minutes until I regain my composure enough to smile when Chase’s eyes meet mine, but he might know something is wrong. After that song, needing some fresh air, I get up to go outside. I know he still has one more song to sing, so I’ve got time to compose myself. Why does seeing her make me feel so. . . so. . . inadequate? I lean my back against the cool brick and close my eyes. I feel inadequate because she’s gorgeous, just the kind of girl that I would picture a guy like Chase with, not me. And there it is. That’s why I can’t let us progress any further, really, because he will break my heart when he realizes he can get and deserves so much better. I steel my resolve, determined not to let it bother me. When I go back in, the band has taken their break. The guys are scattered through the crowd, and the juke box is playing country music. Evan stands by our table, and I look for Chase, but he’s not there. Then I glance in the direction of Emily. He’s standing over there talking to her, or she’s talking to him, leaning into him, moving her arms around as she talks; he’s looking down and smiling as he nods at her. He looks back over at the table as I arrive and take my seat. When I see him watching me, I look away. I sit and now Paul is sitting between Tasha and me, but it’s as if no one else in the world exists for them. They lean into each other and whisper quietly. Evan and Jade start making out, and that makes me unbelievably uncomfortable. I scan the crowd, careful to avoid where Chase stands with Emily. Practically our entire junior and senior class is here, along with a lot of kids from Columbus and Crawfordsville itself. I sip my Coke and begin playing with my phone to check Status Quo. Twenty minutes pass before I sense Chase’s proximity to me. He puts his arm at my waist as he leans in and takes a sip of my drink. I shouldn’t be bothered that it took him so long to come over to our table because he usually mingles with the crowd in his gig-playing-induced-high. It’s so beyond his character, but in this setting he’s an extrovert.
“How’d we sound?” he asks in my ear to test my temperament I’m sure. I’m trying to act normal, but obviously I’m not.
“Great,” I say, but I don’t look up from my phone.
“Good. There are a lot of people that I didn’t expect here tonight,” he says, and I finally look at him. “Let me take you home after this. I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.” I’m aware that his arm is still around my waist. He’s leaning against me, and for all intents and purposes his body language is saying he’s still into me, and I’m relieved. I’ll reprimand myself later for relying so much on this confirmation, but right now I feel safe and important to him. At a loss for words, I nod. He squeezes me closer to him before he lets me go and grabs Evan by his shirt collar drag him away from Jade’s lips.
When they’re all safely backstage, I steal a glance at Emily, only to realize she’s blatantly watching me, like staring. But it’s not a glare, or mean or angry. If anything it’s curious. “Join the club,” I mumble under my breath as I look at the stage. The lights dim, and Chase takes the stage with a bar stool. This is when he sings “Laced with lies.” He begins to pick his guitar, and his voice comes across crisp and clear. I close my eyes, and it’s just him and me, much like the first time I heard it. Only then he was mad at me, but I love hearing him sing live. When I open my eyes, his are locked on mine. I don’t look away. I let him sing to me like he does every time he sings this song. And when it’s done, I blush because I realize the whole bar is staring at me, too.
The ride home is quiet. Instead of taking the interstate, he takes country roads, weaving his way toward home. We pass rows and rows of cornfields until finally we come upon an empty field with tall grass. He pulls over, and I look at him questioningly. He jumps out, runs around his car, opens my door, and practically drags me out of the car. My heels sink into the soft dirt, forcing me to run on my toes.
“Chase, what’s going on?” I ask, but he doesn’t say anything. He pulls me behind him until he lets my hand go and I stop. Under the bright full moon, he pulls frantically at flowers from around us—wild flowers, daisies, and tiger lilies.
Finally, when he has enough, he hands them to me in a messy bouquet, steps up closely in front of me, and says hushed and rushed, nervous even, “I know we’re just friends, but Tasha is going with Paul, and Evan is taking Jade. I think it will be fun, so I was wondering if you’d go to homecoming with me? No one has asked you already, have they?” l look down at the floral arrangement, and as much as I’m sure Paul spent a small fortune on Tasha’s flowers, I think mine are more beautiful.
“I will,” I say as I look up into his eyes. He wraps his arms around my waist and spins me as I grab around his neck to hold on. I giggle as he makes me dizzy.
“Thanks,” he whispers in my ears, giving me goose bumps. “Let’s get out of here.” I nod and follow him out of the field. We arrive at my house at the darkest part of the night. I’m past my curfew and I’m sure that if my parents were up, I’d be in trouble. But right now I’m not so sure I care. I just want to be where I am.
“So I’ll talk to Evan and see what he wants to do for transportation. This will be fun, right?” he asks as he rubs the back of his neck.
“Can I ask you something?” He nods but doesn’t look at me, so I continue. “Why did you ask me?” His eyebrows furrow until finally he looks at me.
“You deserve to have a great night out. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. But if you’ve changed your mind, that’s OK too, I guess.” He looks away from me.
“I didn’t say that. I was just wondering why you asked. When I mentioned earlier that Tasha wanted to go, you acted like you didn’t want to go, and then with Emily being there tonight.” I trail off, not wanting to fight with him. I had intended not even to let him know that I knew she was there. I could kick myself.
“How’d you? Never mind; this has nothing to do with Emily. I’d been meaning to say something and kept putting it off, so when you mentioned it, I realized that I had to
do something tonight.”
“Nothing to do with Emily? I mean, you could ask her if you want; it’s your dance too,” I say, looking out the window remembering how she looked at him and how pretty she was, my insecurities and jealousy rearing their ugly double heads.
“No, it has nothing to do with her. I don’t want to go with her; I want to go with you. We’ll have a great time; I promise. We always do, don’t we?” Now he smiles at me mischievously. I can’t help but smile at him when he looks at me like that.
“Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, still smiling.
“Good night.” I reach over and give him a final hug. He squeezes me tightly before letting me go. I stand on the porch and watch him pull away before I go in though. How did I survive before he was in my life?
Lana
I spent the weekend between staring between Tomas’ Status Quo page and his scribbled phone number. This was, of course, after I spent Friday evening being bored in front of the quicky mart until Jay and dredhead Todd got off work. Then we went to Britt’s house which was mom-less, and “watched” a movie. I use quotes because after the first half hour, Britt and Jake disappeared into her mom’s bedroom, and I had to fend off Todd’s advances. I crashed with Britt on her tiny bed and didn’t sleep very well. I heard her mom stumble in some time after four a.m., and I heard a male voice with her. Lying there listening to their slurred conversation as they stumbled down the hall together reminded me all over again of seeing my dad and Krysta. I wish there was a way to make it all disappear. I realize that I probably needed an emergency session with Dr. Mase. These thoughts are not healthy to my recovery, and I wanted to live, to live happy and content. I dig through my bag, put in my ear buds, to drown out her mom and one-night-stand with Parlor Mob as I drift to sleep. Then when Britt drops me off on Saturday, I shower and sleep most of the morning. I spend that night going over Tomas’ page. His profile picture is of him and a round Latino boy. Both are wearing Raiders jerseys and throwing up sideways peace signs. He used to go to Ben Davis Junior High School. I guess they went from seventh grade to ninth. His favorite rappers are Pitt Bull and Wallpaper, kind of pop rappers if you ask me. Then I go through his pictures. His mom is blond and very elegant and pretty; his dad is dark skinned with dark hair and deep brown eyes. He looks smart. There are pictures of him playing baseball in little league and even junior high. I wonder if he will go out for the team here in the spring. He also has a few pictures of him with a blond girl. She is pretty, preppy pretty, and intimidates me. I scroll through his status updates, but half of them are in Spanish. So I spend Sunday bouncing between those two things. I decide that I’d cyber stalked him enough and at ten p.m. I friend him on Status Quo and add his phone number to my phone.