by Meg Jackson
I prayed that what I’d said didn’t sound desperate or anxious, but cool and flirty, like I intended. The stranger turned to me, a glint of humor in his eyes.
“Should I be in charge of the drink, or the girl?” he asked, giving me a lopsided grin. I felt myself blushing under his gaze. I’d been so enamored with his boyish but burly good looks that I hadn’t actually looked at the rest of him; as my eyes glanced over his long, tall body, my heart sped up.
He was covered in tattoos, which poked out from under his t-shirt and ran all along his arms, even on his knuckles. He wore tight, black jeans and an equally tight t-shirt under a brown leather vest; his hairy, muscular arms bulged under the sleeves of the shirt, and you could follow the deep V of his body all the way down…
I automatically drew my eyes back up to his face, embarrassed of myself for letting my attention wander in such an uncouth direction. I grinned nervously. “The drink, please.”
The stranger took the drink from my hand and followed me as I walked Alicia towards the table, where Becky was sitting with her hands over her mouth, watching us and laughing at the Three Stooges-esque antics. She gave me a look as I approached, one which I knew as well as the back of my hand.
It was Becky’s Really, Samantha? look, one she reserved for moments where she didn’t quite approve of my decisions but also didn’t feel it necessary to step in and actually stop me. I shot her one of my own patented Yes, Becky, Really, looks. Alicia was looking at just about everyone with her I Love You Guys So Much! look, and as I corralled her onto a seat she caught sight of the plate of French fries and gave them the same look.
“Oh my God! Are these mine? Can I eat these? I’m so hungry, guys,” Alicia said, not waiting for permission before grabbing a handful and shoving them into her mouth. A look of drunken bliss came over her and she laughed, her cute little laugh that made her so easy to forgive.
“Well, looks like everyone is safe, including the drink,” the stranger said, setting the fishbowl gingerly on the table between me and Becky. He stepped back, the same lopsided grin on his face.
“Well, thanks, uh…” I said, realizing he hadn’t told me his name.
“Boon,” he said, holding his hand out. I took it in mine, marveling at how large it was, and how powerful his grip was. Then, my mind processed his name. Boon? Oh come on, I thought, and raised an eyebrow as I looked back at him.
“Boon? Is that your real name?” I asked, blurting out the words before really thinking about them or how rude they might sound. Luckily, he seemed to have a sense of humor, and he chuckled and lifted his shoulders slightly.
“I’ll admit, it ain’t my birth name, but it’s what I go by, I swear,” he said, turning as if to go.
“Wait,” I called out, nearly falling off my seat to catch him by the elbow. Becky was giving me a series of hilarious looks, speaking to me in our silent best-friend body language, making fun of me for being so desperate. “Let me buy you a drink. As a thanks. And a sorry, for making fun of your name. I’m Samantha, by the way.”
“Well, you know, it wouldn’t be right of me to turn down a free drink,” Boon said, shrugging.
“I’m Becky, by the way,” Becky said, suddenly, almost too loudly, leaning in and holding her hand out to Boon. “And this beautiful mess over here is Alicia.”
“Hi,” Boon said, taking Becky’s hand in his.
“Hi!” Alicia said from across the table, suddenly coming to life after gorging on French fries. “We’re here from Missoooooooo-la, where’re you from?”
“Drink some water, drunky,” Becky said, pushing a glass of water towards Alicia, who responded by rolling her eyes and looking back at Boon.
“Do you know where to get some marijuana?” she said, pronouncing the last word in a stage whisper that could probably heard all the way on the street.
“Well, now, maybe I do. But I thought we were starting with a drink? It’ll be a Seven and Seven for me, miss,” Boon said. I nodded eagerly. I had no idea what a Seven and Seven was. It sounded cool. I hopped out of the chair and walked to the bar, feeling my stomach full of butterflies. I’d been right; this really was going to change everything. Finally, I was feeling what other girls felt when they met a handsome guy!
I looked back as I waited at the bar. Boon had taken my seat and looked to be having an animated conversation with Alicia and Becky. I felt a slight tremor of fear in my heart as I worried about leaving Alicia alone with Boon; she always had this way of hooking guys she wanted, where I had about as much guy-hooking experience as I did tightrope-walking experience. Which is none, by the way.
The bartender came and took my order; I left a generous tip, hoping he would remember me in the future, and made my way back to the table.
“You stole my seat!” I said playfully as a way of getting back into the conversation.
“Oh my GOD, Samantha, do you know where Stunner is from? Do you know?” Alicia said, leaning forward across the table and nearly grabbing the drink from my hand.
“Uh-uh, Leesh, you have 45 more minutes of water drinking. And I think it’s Boon, isn’t it?” I said, handing the drink to Boon. His fingers just grazed mine as he took it from me and I felt a flush through my body. I grabbed my own straw in the fishbowl and drank greedily, suddenly wanting to get very, very drunk, if only because my nervousness was starting to get the better of me.
I never get nervous around guys, I thought to myself with some surprise. The alcohol flowed straight to my stomach and I felt something like an explosion of warmth as it began to spread through my veins.
“Okay, whatever, but he’s from L.A.! Los Angeles! The city of lights! Way bigger than Moooo-sola,” Alicia said, slurring her words. I shook my head, didn’t bother trying to explain to her that L.A. was not, generally, known as the City of Lights. Instead, I turned to Boon.
“So, is that true? You’re here from Cali?” I’d literally never used the word “Cali” before in my entire life. I just wanted to sound cool. I could feel Becky’s eyes on me without having to look, and I knew she was giving me an amused, I Know What You’re Doing look. It was all I could do not to kick her under the table so she would knock it off. I love my friends, but right now I just wanted to get to know Boon, without Alicia’s inspired slurring or Becky’s good-judgment radar.
“Just south of L.A., actually. Out in the desert. Where I’m from is actually probably smaller than Missoula. I mean, I know it is. I’ve been to Missoula. It’s a nice little city,” Boon said, pinning me in place with his gorgeous eyes and sipping his drink slowly. I took another gulp of the blue drink, but Becky pulled it away.
“I’m not taking care of both of you,” Becky said, then laughed and took a huge swallow of her own. “What were you doing in Missoula? Business? School?”
“Business,” Boon said, suddenly seeming a bit more uptight. The feeling around the table definitely shifted, but the mood passed just as quickly as it had come, and Boon leaned in as though to tell us a secret. “You know, I really do know where to get some pot.”
“Oh my GOD, I want THAT, LET’S GO,” Alicia nearly screamed. She grabbed Boon’s hand and pretended to drag him off, but he remained still in his seat, chuckling.
“Maybe in a little while. What’s the rush? The night is young,” he said. Alicia rolled her eyes but bounced back onto her seat and busied herself with more French fries.
“So what brings you to Vegas? More business?” I asked, wanting to get Boon’s attention back on me. Making out with a stranger was my goal for the week; if he also happened to help Alicia fulfill her goal, I would be happy for her, but tonight I was looking out for number 1.
“No, this trip is about pleasure. Lucky me,” he said with a grin. He took another swallow of the drink and I realized that it was also the last sip of the drink. I prepared myself for disappointment: he’d had his drink now, and there was nothing keeping us here. He could leave or stay: I prepared myself for the disappointment of him leaving.
“Can
I just say,” Boon began, staring into the empty glass, “that this has been the worst Seven and Seven I’ve ever had. But, I’m a firm believer in second chances. I wouldn’t feel right leaving without giving the bartender another shot at making a decent drink.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I said jokingly, elated that he seemed to be planning on staying. At least for one more drink…
One more drink turned into three, turned into another fishbowl for me and Becky, turned into two light beers for Alicia, who we were still keeping an eye on. She’d sobered up considerably, though, and was actually using real words and full sentences. Plus, she seemed to have picked up on my M.O. for the night and had backed off flirting with Boon, instead playing her version of a wingman, which was admittedly a little embarrassing.
“Samantha, tell that story about you and the saltines,” she’d say, draping an arm over me. Rolling my eyes and laughing, I remembered it as just another goofy high school antic. Boon leaned in, though, seeming interested.
“It’s really not that great a story,” I said, blushing at his interest.
“It’s actually a pretty good story. One of Missoula’s best, I’d say,” Becky said demurely, pulling her own weight in this apparently collective effort to score me a kiss with Mr. Heartthrob. Boon’s eyes danced, obviously amused and eager to hear.
“It’s really not that great a story,” I repeated, burying my head in my hands. It really wasn’t that great a story, by the way, it was just one of my only stories.
“So, you know saltines? Like, for soup? Well, they always gave them out at lunchtime, you know, and so Samantha here had this brilliant idea of hording saltines all senior year for…what? What was your plan, again?” Alicia nudged me, laughing at how red my face was.
“I was going to throw them all in the swimming pool,” I said, gritting my teeth. This story is so dumb, he is going to think I’m such a loser…
“Oh, right, yeah, chlorine soup! So, Samantha’s big idea for the senior prank is to fill the school swimming pool with saltines. Which would have been a pretty good one, I’ll admit, even though I’ll never understand why you didn’t want to just buy a lot of saltines, like a normal person…”
“Wait, wait, your school has a swimming pool? I didn’t know they had those at high schools,” Boon said with a laugh. Becky nodded emphatically.
“Oh yeah, we have the best swim team in the state,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. It occurred to me that we were still so attached to our ra-ra high school mentality that we still wanted to take pride in dumb things like having a good swim team. None of us were even on the swim team.
“Anyway, so Samantha is hustling these saltines every day at lunch, and she’s hording them all in her locker. Like, why bring them home? You can just stuff saltines in your locker, right? That makes so much sense,” Alicia said, sarcasm dripping. Boon chuckled again and I caught his eye, the blush still in full bloom.
“But, like, there’s only so many saltines one locker can hold,” Becky said demurely, a mischievous grin on her face.
“And we keep telling her, like, yo, Samantha, girl, take those damn saltines out of your locker before it explodes! But, of course, Sammy never listens to her friends. Even when they are totally right. So, anyway, it’s almost April and Samantha’s locker is so full of saltines that she can’t even keep her books in it anymore, and she only opens it to throw more saltines in.
Until one day this dealer kid gets caught with a bunch of pills, and all the parents in town start freaking out about it, and they decide to do a full sweep of everyone’s locker to find out if anyone else is dealing on school grounds,” Alicia said, her eyes getting wider and her voice louder as she told the story.
“But, of course, they do it right in the middle of the day, with no warning!” Becky said, joining in with a giggle.
“So when they get to dear Samantha’s locker, you can just about see her pissing her pants, and there’s just this absolute deluge of saltines flying from everywhere. The principle, all the teachers, they’re all standing around while all these individually wrapped saltines just flow out of the locker, for like, a good minute and a half, just all making this huge messy pile on the floor. Finally, it slows to a trickle and everyone is just standing looking at Samantha and all these saltines, and…”
“And the principle turned to me and asked me ‘what on earth is this?’ and all I could think so say is ‘crackers’, but I say it really soft so he goes ‘what?’ and suddenly I just freak out and yell ‘CRACKERS’ right in the middle of the hallway and everyone just goes nuts,” I said, finishing the story with a bang. Boon was eating it up, a big grin on his face, his eyes locked on mine.
“But the best part of the story,” Becky said, leaning back, “is that the school administration decided that Samantha hadn’t broken any rules but that she definitely needed to be punished, so they made her head of the anti-drug poster project, making posters for the school hallways to discourage kids from doing drugs.”
“And let me guess…” Boon said, his eyes still on me, drink halfway to his oh-so-kissable lips.
“Why try crack when you can have crackers?”
“Don’t snack on crack!”
“Buy crackers, not crack.”
“Choose a saltier high.”
“Say yes to crackers, say nope to dope,” I said, finishing out the story with a hearty flourish. Becky, Alicia, and I were all in a fit now, almost crying from laughing so hard. Boon was laughing, too, though not quite as hard.
“Okay, okay, come on. Now, you’ve got to have some awesome high school stories,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes and returning to my staring contest with Boon. His smile faded a bit and he took a long swallow from his drink.
“Nope, never went to high school,” he said, clearly feeling a little awkward.
“Oh, did you get your GED or home schooling or something?” Alicia asked cheerfully.
“Nah, school just wasn’t for me,” Boon said, breaking eye contact and looking out over the crowd.
“Didn’t your parents get upset?” Becky asked. I could tell she was getting pretty drunk; sober Becky is usually pretty tactful, and this was clearly a subject that Boon didn’t want to dwell on.
“Well, I guess you could say I just got drafted into the family business, so no. My dad didn’t even want me going. Said it would pollute my mind,” Boon said. “So, ladies, are you still looking for some, eh, party favors?”
We looked at him, dumbfounded, none of us quite sure what he meant. He chuckled again and shook his head slowly.
“Man, you girls are too cute. You still want weed?”
“Oh, yes! Please! Oh my god, that’s like, the whole reason I came on this trip!” Alicia squealed. I wasn’t so interested in the weed, but I was definitely interested in going wherever Boon was going.
“Okay, little miss, but you should know, the guys I hang around with aren’t the sort of guys you’re probably used to,” Boon said, his brow suddenly furrowing. I could feel Becky tensing up beside me. She smelled danger. So did I, but I ignored it. Like the smell of smoke that tells you your house is burning down, I ignored it.
“What do you mean?” I asked, jumping in before Becky could protest.
“Oh, they’ll treat you alright, if you’re with me. But they’re…a rough crowd,” Boon said tactfully. My stomach did a flip-flop. Was this going to be worth it? Putting myself at risk – for what? For a make-out with a stranger? There were tons of strangers around me. I could pick anyone else at that bar and get the same thing I could get from Boon. Except…not really. I knew he was different. I knew because I’d never wanted anyone before.
And I wanted him.
“Well, I’m not afraid,” Alicia said, straightening up in her seat and gathering her purse. “Shall we?”
“Guys, I don’t know,” Becky said, sipping her drink and looking at us with nervous eyes.
“Trust me, it’s perfectly safe,” Boon said, looking at Bec
ky. She softened under his assured gaze, much to my relief. With all of us on board, we closed out our tab and took to the streets.
The night was warm, and the strip was packed with bodies in varying states of inebriation. Boon led us, swerving left and right, down side-streets and alleys. As we walked, we allowed ourselves to be swept away in the beautiful night and our own semi-drunk states, singing at the top of our lungs and laughing all the way. Becky was a little sketched out, but I had to admit I was proud of her for even making it this far. Generally, Becky liked to stay close to the shore.
Finally, we arrived at a small, seedy-looking bar that had rows upon rows of motorcycles parked out front. The neighborhood was comparatively quiet, for Las Vegas at least, and I worried for a second about being able to find our way home. Or being raped and left for dead, said the worrying voice in the very back of my head. I pushed it away and followed Boon into the dimly lit bar, the smell of cigarettes and old beer assaulting my nostrils as soon as I entered.
There were probably thirty or so older men sitting around the bar, which had two female bartenders. Everyone was dressed in black leather. This was the first time I’d ever been in a “biker bar”, and I found myself blushing. Alicia, Becky, and I definitely didn’t fit in with our short party dresses and high heels. Every man in the bar turned to look at us as the door slammed shut behind us. They were all smiling, some innocently, some not-so-innocently.
It seemed like Boon knew everyone in the bar; he walked from table to table giving out high-fives and handshakes. We all followed; I could feel Becky’s anxiety baking off her, while Alicia, to her credit, acted like she totally belonged there, not a care in the world. Finally, we found ourselves at the long bar.
“What’ll it be?” Asked the young, attractive bartender, giving Boon a huge smile. I tried not to notice the way she rolled her eyes a bit when she glanced at me and my friends.
“Four of your cheapest beers, please, ma’am,” Boon said, smiling back at the bartender, his impossibly white teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. That smile…it made me forget where I was, who I was with, what I was doing.
