Fireworks

36

The next day at work is busy. Customers have begun to trickle in as the Fourth of July grows ever-nearer. Kids are almost constantly running around pelting gravel from the lot at each other, or swiping smoke bombs from the 'free with one purchase' bucket. People of all kinds come in: men with suits, women with guns strapped to their hips, groups of pre-teens, kids I recognize from school. It seems that everyone wants to be a part of the firework hubbub.

I manage to stick primarily to one spot behind the counter. I gather discarded baskets that people chuck behind them to the makeshift cardboard floor and stack them back at the entrance to the tent. I man a register when someone needs to take a fiver in the Living Room, the constant heat and bustle of the tent becoming too much. I refill pricing guns for the guys when theirs gets jammed, since the bigger boys (Ryan, Diego and Arlo) had been asked by Harriet to stand watch like gargoyles in the center of the tent on the stacks of wood pallets. What they're watching for, I don't know, but they do so under the guise of 'pricing things', which is a total lie.

A few times throughout the day, I catch Arlo staring at me.

I feel like things have changed between us after last night at the concert... The way we had danced around the parking lot like crazy people for who knows how long made me feel unreal. Like maybe life could be okay again. After I had a drive alone and time to think on the way to Isa's house, I convinced myself that I was making too much of a deal about it, that it was purely friendly the way he wrapped his strong arms around me and tried to make me forget my troubles.

When I had shown up, though, and Arlo was waiting at the gate to Isa's back yard with a small, secret smile, I knew it wasn't in my head that there was at least something in the interaction that changed things for him too.

The whole night, Hoffman kept giving me that wary gaze, and I finally figured it out. It was because of Arlo. Hoffman seems to know Arlo better than anyone, even Gabe and Isa. I'm pretty sure he's one of the friends Arlo told me about at the party, one of the friends who had stood beside him while his mother was passing and silently supported him. He's probably seen him through thick and thin for years now. It's no wonder he was protective of him.

He must have also seen the look Arlo was giving me all night, that look of wonder that Arlo carried while I played the piano. (Or whatever kind of look it was) He either didn't think I was good enough for him, or was wary that I'd hurt him.

All night, every time Arlo and I brushed hands while reaching for a soda, or laughed at each others joke, or made a comment directed at the other, Hoffman was watching. It was unnerving, to say the least, and the situation wasn't helped when I caught the end of one of their conversations while coming back from the bathroom.

"-need to relax. Do you really think I would be doing this if I had even the slightest suspicion of bad intentions? She's different, man." Arlo was saying.

Hoffman was quick to interject, "You've known her for three weeks, Arlo. Don't get me wrong, I see the appeal. She's talented, smart, cute. But just because you can relate to her baggage doesn't mean she's right for you, man. You're leaving for college in three months, all the way across the country. I just don't want you to get hurt-"

I decided to walk away at that point, back around the bathroom and the side gate outside.

After that, I had been cautious to avoid Hoffman for the rest of the night, even though he was perfectly polite to me. I actually really like Hoffman, he seems like a good friend to Gabe and Arlo. But that didn't make him any less intimidating to me.

I was also careful to avoid any accidental touches or prolonged eye contact with Arlo after that.

Now, though, while the sunset is starting yet again and it's been about 24 hours since our soiree in the parking lot, I think Arlo is ignoring his friend's advice. At least based on the looks he's been giving me, and the way he let his hand trail down my arm when he passed me on his way back from the camper.