Home > The Field Party #1 - Until Friday Night(4)

The Field Party #1 - Until Friday Night(4)
Author: Abbi Glines


She didn’t respond, but there was a clarity in her eyes. She wasn’t off like Brady said—you could see that kind of thing in a person’s eyes. But her eyes, they were almost too intense. Too smart.

“You just gonna stare at me like you want a taste and not speak? Kinda rude.”

My own meanness made me wince inside. My momma would be ashamed of me. This girl, though, she didn’t do anything more than blink. She didn’t back away, and she didn’t make a sound. Brady hadn’t been shitting us about one thing: She really didn’t talk.

But even without talking, she obviously wasn’t interested in me. I wasn’t used to that. Wasn’t used to girls not wanting me to kiss them.

I stopped in front of her and cupped her face in one of my hands. God, that face was something else. I had to touch her to see if she was real. The perfection seemed almost impossible. Everyone had physical flaws. I wanted to find hers.

I used my thumb to brush her bottom lip. She wasn’t wearing lipstick. She didn’t need it—those lips were already a pretty pink.

“It’s time you run along now,” I warned her, even though I should have been the one to walk away.

She stayed where she was, staring up at me. Boldly. Without flinching. The only thing that gave her away was the pulse in her neck. She was nervous, but she was either too scared or too curious to move.

I took one more step until I was pressed up against her and she was backed against the tree behind her. “Told ya to run, sugar,” I reminded her just before I lowered my mouth to hers.

Don’t Mind Me, Sugar

CHAPTER 3

MAGGIE

I was determined not to be a hindrance to Brady. Friday night Aunt Coralee had forced him to take me to that party, and I used it as an opportunity to show him I wouldn’t be a bother. Mostly, I sat in the dark by myself, away from everyone. Every thirty minutes or so I’d check if Brady was still there or looking for me, and then I’d go back to my hiding spot.

I really hoped this wasn’t an every weekend event. I didn’t want to have to go through that every time Brady went to the field party. I preferred to stay in my room and read. Hanging out alone in a dark field wasn’t exactly my favorite way to pass the time. Although, something happened that had certainly made it less . . . boring.

Thinking of the place I’d claimed beside that tree made my cheeks flush. I’d gotten my first real kiss, and from a guy I didn’t even know. He’d been so tall and his hair was dark and curled at the ends. His face . . . It was like God had taken all the perfect features for man and put them together just for this guy.

It hadn’t been those things that made me stand there, though, after he warned me to go. It had been his eyes. Even in the darkness, I’d seen a heaviness there. A heaviness I’d never seen in anyone but myself.

He’d told his mother he loved her on the phone. Then he’d hung up and cursed while hitting his truck. Anyone who talked to his mother that way couldn’t be bad. He didn’t scare me.

But I was worried about him, so I stayed even when he told me to go. And then he’d kissed me. It had been rough at first, like he was trying to hurt me, but then he’d softened, and before I knew it, I was grabbing on to fistfuls of his T-shirt. My knees went weak, and I wasn’t sure if I actually made a whimper or if it had just been in my head. I hoped it was in my head. Considering how abruptly he’d left me, I didn’t want to have made a sound. And I wished I hadn’t grabbed on to him.

It ended as suddenly as it had begun. He didn’t say a word when he backed away from me. He didn’t look at me. Instead he’d turned and stalked over to his truck and left. I had no idea who he was. All I knew was that he was beautiful and haunted and he’d given me a first kiss to remember.

Two hours later, when Brady had finally decided to leave, he’d found me dozing on the ground under my tree. He’d been annoyed and hadn’t said anything to me on the drive home. The kiss faded into the background as I focused on how to make my cousin not hate me.

Sunday, when Brady had plans to go to a friend’s house to swim, Aunt Coralee had tried to ship me off with him. But I’d written her a note telling her my period had started and I didn’t feel like it, and she let me stay home.

Brady ended up being gone all day. I was sure he was worried that if he came home, she would try to foist me on him all over again.

Today I started school, and she gave Brady a to-do list all about me. I felt bad for him. You could see the frustration on his face. So I handed him a note as soon as we got there.

I got this. Do what you do, and I’ll show up in class. Just cause I don’t talk doesn’t mean I can’t get around. I’ll tell Aunt Coralee you did everything she said. But I don’t want you taking me everywhere. I want to do this alone.

He hadn’t looked too convinced, but he nodded and took off, leaving me at the entrance of the school.

Luckily, Aunt Coralee had prepared the front office for the fact I didn’t speak. They were fine with me writing down everything I needed to say. They gave me my schedule and asked where Brady was. Apparently, Aunt Coralee had also told them Brady would be my guide. I lied and wrote down that he had gone to the restroom and was meeting me in the hallway.

A small part of me—okay, a really big part of me—hoped I’d see the guy from the field party. I wanted to see him in the light. I wanted to see if he was okay. And, I hoped, maybe he’d want to see me.

Once I had directions to my locker, I went to look for it, feeling accomplished. Actually finding it was another thing entirely. With people filling the hallways, many of them in their lockers or in front of their lockers or making out against their lockers, I couldn’t see the numbers. Finding 654 was basically impossible.

“You good?” Brady’s voice came from behind me, and I nodded, not wanting to tell him I wasn’t exactly great and would probably be late for class.

“Where’s your locker?” he asked.

I thought about how to answer that and just handed him the paper with my locker number on it.

“You already passed it,” he replied, nodding back down the hall. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

I didn’t have time to write out an argument. Instead I just followed him. He was going to help me anyway and, if I admitted it to myself, I needed his help.

Unlike when I had walked down the hallway, fighting through the packed bodies, everyone created a path for Brady. It was like he was Moses and this was the Red Sea.

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