Worthy nodded and started walking with me again. “But Byron wasn’t homeschooled, was he?”
I shook my head. “None of my cousins were. Not past fourth grade, anyway. I’m meeting Frankie for lunch, I should go.” I turned and started walking in the other direction having no idea where I was going.
“Hey,” Worthy said, jogging up beside me. “You seem upset. Did I say something wrong?”
What could I say to that? That nothing he said was wrong, that I was the one who was wrong? That the oddities about my life I’d done so well ignoring couldn’t be ignored when he, with his normal suburban childhood, asked me about them, pointed them out? I couldn’t say any of that, so I gave him a cheery smile. “I’m fine. I just don’t want to be late. Frankie worries when I’m late.” I was really reaching for straws, now.
“Okay,” he said. He took a step back and he gave me a half-smile. “I’ll see you Sunday night.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, but for the first time, I wondered what the hell I was doing trying to date anyone when I wasn’t even prepared to answer the sort of questions about my life that any normal person would ask.
***
Strangely, Ronald Graves the third didn’t ask me anything about my childhood or my home. Instead, he sat across from me at the coffee shop, over two coffees and two blueberry muffins, and told me stories about women he knew who’d gotten stupid drunk, done stupid shit, and regretted it in the morning.
After the third story, I figured out that my “date” was actually a precautionary tale orchestrated by my cousin. Which was a shame, because Ronald Graves the third, while suffering from a bit of a beer gut and an inability not to check out every girl who walked by, wasn’t bad looking and he had a flair for storytelling that captivated me even as I got progressively more annoyed.
“Sounds like fun,” I said, interrupting his story about a woman who’d gotten drunk and danced on the table at his frat house, topless, while people clicked pictures with their phones.
Ronald Graves the third stopped speaking and started to look worried. “I don’t think you understand, Remy. Guys posted those pictures on the In-ter-net and everyone saw them. Michelle was horrified and embarrassed. It was not fun.”
I shrugged. “Maybe not the pictures part, but the dancing on the table part, that sounds fun. You ever tried it?”
Ronald Graves the Third swallowed hard and looked around nervously. I might have felt bad, but come on, he brought it on himself. “No,” he said. “And I don’t want to. It’s…it’s dangerous, and—”
“You are absolutely right, Ronald Graves the Third, we should try it.”
“What?” Ronald Graves the Third was turning slightly green. “No. I didn’t say—”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll find us a party.” I pulled out my cell phone, ignoring Ronald Graves the Third’s sputtering protests, and dialed Harrison.
“Remy, Remy, Remy,” he said. “Aren’t you out on a date?”
“Who have you been talking to?” I asked.
“I have ears everywhere. What’s all that noise in the background?”
“That, Harrison, is my date Ronald Graves the Third. He is super excited because he wants to party, and I told him you’d know where there’s a party.”
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” Harrison said.
“What’s to feel bad about?” I asked. “We’re young and free and looking to party. Life is good.”
“Right. Listen, Remy, I’d do anything for you, but Byron is one scary motherfucker, so if he asks, you did not get this information from me.”
“Understood,” I said. “What’s the intel?”
Harrison chuckled. “It’s Thursday night, so there’s not a whole hell of a lot going on, but there’s a bar down on college boulevard and they have dollar well drinks on Thursdays. That’s going to be your most happening place tonight.”
“And for those of us without fake IDs?” I asked. I was two months away from being twenty-one and that was one birthday that couldn’t come fast enough.
“No problem. You can get in as long as you’re over eighteen. You just have to be twenty-one to drink.”
“Perfect,” I said. “Thank you, party king.”
I hung up and grinned at Ronald Graves the Third. “It’s time to party.”
We got to the bar, a small, dark space beneath a restaurant, just after eight-o-clock, and we were pretty much the only people there. “Where is everyone?” I asked.
Ronald Graves the Third looked at me like I was crazy, but he’d been looking at me that way for the past half hour. Might have had something to do with me body checking him when I caught him trying to call my cousin. “It’s eight on a Thursday night,” he said, sounding exasperated. “The thirsty hordes probably won’t show up until ten.”
“’Thirsty hordes,’” I said, shaking my head. “So young, and already so jaded.”
Ronald Graves the Third shrugged. “When I’m not being coerced into dating freshman, I’m a bartender. I work with Worthy just down the street.”
I gave him a sweet smile, which bounced off him like a rubber ball, and ignored the urge to pump him for more information about Worthy. “There’s no coercion here, Ronald Graves the Third. The date’s officially over, you can leave any time you like.”
He glared at me. “For the last time, my name is Ron.”
I just laughed. He was Ronald Graves the Third, his attitude and his prudery insisted on him being called by his entire name. “Well, Ronald Graves the Third, if you’re going to insist on hanging out with me like a dark raincloud, how about a game of pool?”
He shrugged and followed me to the table. I racked them and let him get the first couple of shots, before I took over the table and showed him how pool is supposed to be played.
“This night just keeps getting better and better,” Ronald Graves the Third said.
I leaned in and squeezed his cheeks. “Aww, don’t tell me Ronald Wonald is a sore loser.”
“I hate you,” he said, but there was no real venom in his tone and I was pretty sure I saw a tiny hint of amusement in his eyes.
An arm landed on my shoulders and I looked up to see Harrison. “Remy, will you please stop torturing poor Ron, here? He called and begged us to rescue him.”
I glared at Ronald Graves the Third. “You called Harrison? When did you even have the chance?”
“When you were whipping my ass. You were concentrating pretty hard on the table.” Ronald Graves the Third took a step back. “And I didn’t call Harrison, I called him.”
I turned and looked over Harrison’s shoulder to see Worthy leaning against a support pillar and smirking. Next to him was Frankie, looking uncomfortable. I looked at Harrison. “What is she doing here?”
“Don’t start,” Harrison said. “She wanted to come.”
“How did she even know where I was?” I said. “Was she out with you when I called?”
“It’s not like that. You were right about her, I’m not about to make any kind of play on her.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Your date left,” Harrison said. I looked to see Ronald Graves the Third hightailing it out of the bar.
“You know, the purpose of a date is not to torture the poor sod who works up the nerve to ask you out,” Harrison said.
“Really?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. “What is the purpose of a date, then, sensei? Because Ronald Graves the Third seemed to think the purpose of a date is to warn your date about the dangers of alcohol abuse.” I turned my attention to Worthy. “Know anything about that?”
“Alcohol abuse?” Worthy asked.
“Cute,” I said. “You know what I mean.”
Worthy walked to the table and started pulling balls from pockets and racking them. “I told Byron he needed to back off, and he chose not to listen to me. I say if the guys are too afraid of Byron to treat you to a real date, then they fully deserve whatever torture you dish out.”
&
nbsp; Frankie walked over and stood next to me. “He was kind of stuck in a hard place,” she said. “He was probably just trying to help you out of respect for Byron.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. I watched as Harrison tried to take a shot and completely missed the cue ball, hitting a solid red ball, instead. “So, let me get this straight. Ronald Graves the Third called Worthy. Worthy needed back-up, so he called Harrison, and Harrison called Frankie because…”
Worthy sunk two balls and walked over to me. “I called Harrison because I didn’t want to look like a dick walking in here and ruining your date.” He stepped up to me until only a breath of air separated us. “You know how I feel about you, and I didn’t want you to think I was interrupting your date out of jealousy.”
“How do you feel?” I asked.
He lowered his voice. “I want to kiss you right now, and I hated the idea of you being out with anyone but me.”
“So ask me not to date any of those other guys.” Even as the words left my mouth I knew that if he did that any relationship that might exist between us would end.
“No,” he said. “You should date them all, and if you choose me at the end, we’ll both know it’s a fair choice.”
I gave him a sunny smile. I was really starting to like Worthy.
“Besides, I know they’re all too afraid of Byron to make an actual move on you.”
I scowled, wanting to be angry, but too secretly thrilled by his words to be really mad. I took a small step back. “So you called Harrison and he called Frankie?”
Worthy nodded. “No reason to end your night out, so I brought your friends to you.”
“I tried to talk Bell into coming out, too,” Frankie said. “But she was involved in an intense Skype conversation with her sisters.”
“Um, okay,” I said, pretty sure I had the best friends in the world, and wondering how I’d gotten so lucky to find them in my second week at college. “Well, I want to dance on a table, who’s in?”
Harrison clapped me on the back. “Why don’t we at least wait until the dance music starts.”
We finished three games of pool and Worthy excused himself to use the restroom. When he returned, pounding bass filled the small club, even though there were only about fifteen people in the place and it was still early. “What did you do?” I asked.
Worthy smiled. “I told them there was a girl here who wanted to dance on a table, so they agreed to start the music. They can’t blast it full volume while the restaurant upstairs is open, but it should be enough to get you dancing.”
Suddenly, I felt a little nervous. I’d danced at home in my room before, sure, and I’d danced at that party at Worthy’s friends place, but I’d been just one body in a crowd of bodies. I’d never danced in front of a bunch of strangers on top of a table, in full view, with nothing to hide behind. The time or two my cousins had seen me dance, they’d laughed and teased me. I kicked their asses, of course, but it didn’t make me feel better. Despite all of the seasons of So You Think You Can Dance I’d watched, I was pretty sure I wasn’t a natural.
“Come on,” Frankie said, taking my hand. “Let’s start on the dance floor.”
I followed her to what was little more than a ten-by-ten area of empty floor, and tried not to gape as she started moving her body to the music. The last time I’d seen her dance, there hadn’t been a lot of room to move, but with that wide open dance floor, Frankie really got into it. The girl could dance. And I couldn’t take my eyes off the way her body just flowed to the music. Harrison stepped in front of me and broke my trance. He started dancing with Frankie, being a total goofball and not making any effort to dance for real.
I took a step toward the dance floor, but I couldn’t go any farther. I took a step back and swallowed hard, trying to find my usual calm. I wasn’t afraid of anything, not anything. I must be standing in something sticky.
“Never danced in public before?” Worthy asked, his voice gentle, his breath warm on my ear.
“Just add it to the list,” I said, suddenly wanting to punch myself in the face for my stupid idea about dancing on a table. Which had actually been Ronald Graves the Third’s idea. I should to punch him.
“Come on,” Worthy said, pushing me forward. “I’ll dance with you.”
“I don’t really think—”
But his arms came around my waist and he pulled me tight against him, and I forgot what I’d been about to say. I lifted my arms and let my fingers tangle in his hair. “This better?” he asked. He started to move with the music and I followed his lead as well as I could. He was holding me so close and so tight, it was hard to move much at all.
“Is this really considered dancing?” I asked.
He looked down at me and I saw something like sympathy flash in his eyes, before he smiled and amusement took its place. “You want more space?”
“No. I like it,” I said, because I did and I didn’t want him to stop, no matter how much it revealed about me.
We danced like that for two songs and I was pretty confident I wanted to spend the rest of my life right there, in his arms, when Frankie grabbed my elbow and pulled me away from Worthy. He let me go with a laugh and it was like I’d been underwater while I was dancing with him and I was suddenly jolted back into the world of sound and sight. Frankie laughed and started jumping up and down and I followed her lead, her energy and enjoyment infectious. I’d never heard the song, some poppy tune that lent itself to jumping and being silly.
The next song was slower and Frankie moved closer to me, raising her arms and shimmying. Again, I followed her lead.
Some guy jumped between us and started dancing with Frankie. She sent me a pained look over his shoulder, but she was too polite to say anything. When he put his hands on her hips, I grabbed his shoulder and pulled. “She doesn’t want to dance with you.”
He scowled at me, his face red with drunkenness. “She can tell me that herself.”
“I’m telling you,” I said. “Find someone else to dance with.”
“You going to stop me?”
Normally, I don’t like to let guys fight my fights, but I was a big fan of easy solutions, and the memory of the last belligerent drunk guy who’d been unable to take a hint was still too fresh. I grabbed the guy by the ear and steered his head around until he could see Worthy and Harrison, who’d moved to the edge of the dance floor and were glaring at the guy. “No, but they will.”
I let go of the guy and he moved on like it was his idea. I sent Harrison and Worthy a high five and got a warm grin from Worthy in return.
After having to beat off three more guys in like manner, one for Frankie and two for me, I had a revelation. “It all makes sense now,” I yelled to Frankie over the music. Then I grabbed her hand and pulled her up onto the nearest unoccupied table with me. She laughed and kept dancing, and I danced with her. There was only room for the two of us on the tabletop and, though we were subjected to plenty of wolf whistles, we were able to dance in relative peace.
At least, we were able to dance until one of the waiters told us to get off the table. Apparently they frowned on that sort of thing, despite the bartender’s willingness to start the music when promised girls dancing on tables. We danced on the floor until the crowd got too drunk and rowdy and everything became less fun. When we got off the dance floor, only Harrison was there to greet us. Worthy had only been able to meet us as the bar because he’d gotten someone to cover his shift, at the sports bar where he worked as a bartender, for an hour and he had to get back to work.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Heard about what you did to Ron,” my second date, Bryce, said. He reminded me a lot of my cousin Barrett, burly, gruff, and easygoing as long as things went his way.
I took a bite of my pizza and shrugged.
“I think it’s funny as hell,” he said in a thick accent. “I told Byron you wouldn’t cotton to him trying to tighten your reigns.”
I just stared at him for a long moment. “Are you for real?
” I asked. “I mean, you’re third year pre-law and you honestly expect me to believe talking like that still comes natural to you.” I knew the difference between talking like you’d never left the country, and talking like someone who’d been out of the country for a while. I’d seen the change happen to each of my cousins, as they’d gone off to college and started their careers in big cities.
Bryce laughed. “I like you, Remy,” he said, his voice losing some of the southern lilt. “I like to put on the south, as I call it, when I first meet someone new. People tend to show more of their true colors when they think you’re dumber or more backward than them. Plus, you seemed to like the country lingo with that coon dog and flea expression the other day.”
I smiled. “I love those weird expressions, though I made that one up on the fly. And you just sound like home to me. Where are you from?”
“Not too far from you as the crow flies, Western North Carolina.”
I nodded, like I was familiar with the area. Of course, I knew where it was geographically, but I didn’t know anything about it, except that it was mountainous.
Bryce gave me a smile that probably melted many panties, but I felt nothing. “So you and Worthy, huh?” he asked.
My radar perked up, sensing trouble. “Me and Worthy what?”
“You two are together.”
“No,” I said. “Not that I’m aware of. Did he tell you that?”
Bryce dropped his attention to his calzone, probably sensing from my tone that he was treading in dangerous waters. “I’m not saying anyone told me anything.”
“If no one told you anything, how’d you figure I was with Worthy?” Grrr, I was beginning to think dating my cousin’s friends wasn’t worth the trouble. As much fun as it was to antagonize Byron, I didn’t like him or his frat brothers meddling in my life.
Bryce raised his hands and leaned back. “Let’s just say I got the impression Worthy’s staked a claim on you. I’ve been advised to play along with your dating game, but nothing more.”
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