for, liar

Chapter 100

I've lost count of how many times we've played cornhole by now. The guy running the game wouldn't let us win all the ducks he had so we just kept playing for fun.

Miles and Rayna have won a handful of times. So far, Miles has won the most with the leading number of twelve. Rayna is a close second with nine. I, on the other hand, have lost too much feeling in my fingers to throw properly due to the cold and have only beaten each of them once. I decided to just give up and watch them play so I can try to get the warmth back in my fingers by shoving them under my arms.

My mom walks up behind me and squeezes my shoulder. I turn my head towards her and smile. She's wearing a light up hat and those goofy glasses similar to the ones on the rubber ducks.

"Hey! Are the fireworks going to start soon?" I ask.

"Yeah but can you do me a favor? We're almost completely out of ice. Do you think you and Miles can run up the road to the gas station and get some bags for us? You can take my card."

She pulls out her wallet and starts digging through it. I rise from my chair, locking eyes with Miles. I gesture for him to come over. He tosses the bean bag he had in his hand and sinks it into Rayna's board again before jogging over to us.

"They need ice. There's a Shell station a couple of miles down the road so mom asked if we could go get some real quick before the fireworks start."

"Yeah! That's no problem at all. I'll get the car cranked." He walks to the driveway and over to his car.

Mom finishes sorting through the handful of cards in her wallet to give me the right one. "Thank you, sweetheart. Be safe."

She rushes back over to her station and starts refilling the popcorn. I walk across the street to where Miles is. He's crouched down next to his back passenger side tire.

"Shit, we might have a problem." he groans.

"Is your tire flat?" I ask.

I didn't have to say that. It's obviously very flat.

"Yeah. Could we take your mom's car?"

"We can but it's manual."

"That's no problem. I can drive a stick shift. Go get the keys."

I rush back over to where my mom is. Her eyebrows shoot up when she sees me approaching her. She must know something is wrong.

"What happened?" She asks.

"Miles' car has a flat tire. Can we take yours?"

She tosses me the keys. "Of course! Just be careful. We will take care of that flat tomorrow."

I've always wanted to drive mom's Mustang but I could never figure out how a stick shift works. My dad tried to teach me once and that lesson lasted eight whole minutes before we both got too angry and stormed out of the car, refusing to speak to each other for three hours.

Miles turns the heat on full blast when we get into the car. I can finally defrost my fingers. He starts moving the gears and I watch curiously still wondering how the hell anyone can remember all of that. I know it must be practice but it just seems too confusing. We're all spoiled now to not have to learn how to drive these types of cars.

"Which way is it?" he asks.

He drives out of the neighborhood and I tell him to hook a right. The Shell station isn't far at all and we make it there in no time. We ended up getting way too much ice but there's no way it will go unused with how much everyone's been drinking.

I help Miles load the six bags into the trunk and we hurry to get back on the road. I am not about to miss a single firework.

We make it back as they're starting to set up to shoot the first set off. My mom walks over and helps us unload the many bags of ice. She thanks us and starts dumping them into the drink station coolers.

"How do you know how to drive a stick?" I ask Miles as we take our seats in preparation for the show.

"My first car was a stick." He answers quickly.

"What happened to it?"

I don't know if my small talk is too nosy, I'm just genuinely curious.

"It got fuckin' totaled. It was awful. I loved that car. I even have a little model of it in my apartment."

The tiny car right next to his glass dolphin. I always wondered about the story behind that one. It seemed too specific to just be a random decoration.

"Aw, that's horrible. It's definitely got sentimental value if it was your first."

He chuckles and reaches over to grab my hand. "Yeah."

We hear a loud squeal not too far in front of us and the sky explodes with color. My heart skips a beat and I point my attention up towards the fireworks. I can see Miles with a wide smile in my peripheral vision. He's more mesmerizing than any firework ever could be.

Ew. My serotonin is making my own thoughts disgustingly corny.

I had planned on taking out my phone and recording some of this but it would be pointless. Almost everyone has seen fireworks and recording them just doesn't do it justice. It's something that has to be experienced live.

"This is beautiful." I whisper.

"A close second to you." Miles responds.

I roll my eyes and squeeze his hand. "Stop being cheesy."

"You like it when I'm cheesy."

I really do. I hate admitting that because there's nothing more cringe worthy than his one liners sometimes. It still makes my stomach flutter just like he hopes it would.

As we get closer to midnight, there's less food involved and way more alcohol. Me and Rayna took a few of the shots Sandy had concocted and I was already starting to feel it as I lifted up shot number two. Miles still hasn't touched the alcohol even though I told him he wouldn't have to drive tonight. I get that he's not so big on drinking, I just thought he would loosen up a little more by now.

"You sure you don't want one? They're really good."

"I'm alright but don't you think you've had plenty?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm fine. I know my limit." I chuckle.

He shakes his head back, smirking at me, and reaches up to drag the end of his thumb down my lips to wipe off the excess liquid.  "I don't think you do." He challenges.

"If I start getting too crazy, you can cut me off. Deal?" I offer and stick out my hand to him.

He takes it into his and shakes it firmly. "Deal, just don't hate me."

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