“Well, Lovette clearly needs to practice her poses for the window display at Old Navy.”
Lydia bolts through the double swinging kitchen doors, and Jake motions for me to lead the way. I glance at my watch. I guess I can go for five minutes.
Chapter Eight
The second we leave the kitchen into the Venue, it’s a million decibels louder and twenty degrees warmer. A few minutes after nine, and already these sweaty dancers have heated up the place. The tables have been pushed to the sides, creating a square floor where couples dance, holding hands and swinging their hips in rhythm to the Latin music. Their feet step back and forward in sync like they’ve practiced nonstop together, but they haven’t. They’re just that good. Some dancers move to the music by themselves, legs lunging left and right, and maybe it’s the ocean air mixed with their sweat and gorgeous moves, but it reminds me of what I think Brazil would be like. Lydia undulates, shifting her weight from hip to hip, her upper body so controlled. She looks like a professional dancer, fluid and natural—and apparently also sexy, judging by the number of guys watching her.
I think Jake will stare too, but true to his word, he starts bouncing like a pogo stick. I stand perfectly still as always, watching the dancers. After one song, Jake’s a sweaty mess.
“You’re good!” he shouts over the music, pointing at my statue posture.
I giggle and shake my head.
“No, really! The fall collection will look fab on you!” he jokes.
“Thanks! You too! Did you grow up dancing?”
He’s still hopping. “You noticed?” And then he gets that big grin again, the one where his dimple shows, and I can’t help but grin with him.
Over his shoulder, Kaj shows up and stomps over to Lydia on the far side of the dance floor.
“Here we go,” I say.
Jake leans close. “What’d you say?”
I point behind him, where Lydia and Kaj are yelling at each other. The music drowns them out. People dance around them, ignoring their argument.
“Come on,” I say, leading Jake to the bar. “Let’s get a Coke.”
“They okay?” Jake says. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Everything. The usual,” I say. “Who knows. They fight about everything.”
“Then why are they dating?” The bartender hands Jake two Cokes, and he gives me one. I take a sip and peer through the crowds of milling people.
“Because that.” I point to the dance floor. On the far end, Lydia and Kaj are kissing and groping each other like it’s their last night on earth. “They really like to make up.”
“Odd,” is all he says.
“Not when you’ve seen it for three years.” I sip my soda. “I think they’d break up if they started getting along.”
“Speaking of getting along, what’s with that Cecilia Grayson chick?”
I bite hard on an ice cube. “What about her?”
He twirls his Coke with his mini straw. “Guess she saw us hanging out at school. Almost dragged me into the women’s restroom to tell me to watch out for you. Says you’re after her man.”
I spit the cube back into my cup, laughing. “Trevor Walker?”
“He a bad guy?”
“No. It’s just. I dunno, you have to know him. He’s so over the top, like he studies Disney movies and picks the cheesiest cartoon prince to mimic.” I’m imagining us back in Junior Guards and how he’d flip his wet hair back like a shampoo commercial. It makes me giggle, and Jake lifts an eyebrow. “The one who uses selfie mode on his phone to check his hair? That’s Trevor.”
Jake adjusts the barstool under him, his leg brushing mine, and I jump. He’s amused, I can tell, but I’m not sure if it’s because of me or Trevor. “Sounds like a little much.”
I finish my Coke. “I wish I were exaggerating. I’ve grown up with him, so I don’t mind—he’s an incredible surfer—but as for dating, yeah, no.”
“You don’t date him because he’s a Disney prince.”
“Pretty much.”
“Not because of Jesus.”
I can’t believe in all this I didn’t mention God. “No. I mean of course because of Jesus. That was an example. I wouldn’t date him. Anyone. I mean, I wouldn’t date anyone.” My words feel like swirling sea foam, a garbled mess.
He’s enjoying this, I can tell. “You got somewhere to be?”
“Right now?”
“I dunno.” He stands and sets his Coke on a barstool. “You’ve been looking at your watch nonstop since we left the kitchen.”
My face reddens. Have I been that obvious? I can’t tell him about sneaking away to get a swim in. Nobody knows, and that’s the way it works. I can’t risk my parents finding out. Well, Old Man Mike knows, but he hasn’t talked to my parents in years, so it’s not like he’s gonna snitch.
“Uh, I dunno. It’s a full moon. I wanted to enjoy it before I had to be home.”
He finishes his Coke in three gulps. “Well, then, let’s go.”
Let’s go? As in both of us?
“Okay,” I say. I mean, I can’t say no. I said I wanted to see the full moon.
We head through the kitchen to grab our jackets. Outside, the cool breeze makes me catch my breath as we unlock our bikes. “You have any place in mind?”
It’s a lie to say no, because I do have a place in mind. But I can’t say that. I settle for, “Anywhere’s good. I mean, the ocean’s nice because you get two moons. The one in the sky and the one on the water.”
He’s quiet. Have I said something wrong?
“I mean, not really,” I correct. “It’s just a strip of light on the water. But it’s so bright it looks like you can walk out on it.” He’s staring at me now, maybe waiting for me to say more, so I do. “Or we can just cruise the neighborhoods. I mean, we don’t have to head to the beach.”
He blinks, and his familiar smile is back. “The neighborhoods? Why would you settle for one moon when you can have two?” He throws a leg over his bike and starts pedaling, calling behind him, “Let’s move, mannequin. You have a curfew!”
I pause, wondering if this is okay, this going alone somewhere with a guy. I’ve never done that. But we’re bike riding for goodness’ sake, and besides, he’s turning a corner and almost out of sight, so I hop onto my seat and pedal after him.