The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 10: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

It was one of those perfect summer nights you never wanted to end.

The air was scented with salt water and wood smoke. Groups of kids gathered around the fire and in clumps along the shore. No fistfights broke out, which was a miracle on a summer Saturday night in our town. Drinks were passed around, but no one was drunk or sick.

Except for that one girl.

Someone was pulling reluctant boys to their feet, cajoling them to dance. Someone took their top off and cavorted around the fire in their bra, enjoying the hoots and whistles from the crowd.

Someone made out with Bobby Mullins and nearly went off with him into the woods.

Someone is me. I'm someone.

Bobby was the kind of guy that my friends and I typically avoided. The rumour network was reliable in our small town; everyone knew he would sweet talk a girl into sex, and the next day brag about it to all the guys. It was so unfair; guys called you 'green' and made fun of you if you didn't do it, and called you a whore when you did. 

He talked Karen Marx into losing her virginity to him while babysitting, promising her he'd be her perfect boyfriend. The next day, he wrote Karen is a SLUT on the wall in the boys' bathroom. You'd think he would have been grateful. To me, it was like giving a kid the giant lollipop they'd been crying for and having them turn around and slap you in the face for it.

Bobby was a skeeze. And I very nearly was the next Karen. 

Until a large hand descended on my shoulder in the dark, pulling me back and breaking Bobby's sweaty grip on my hand.

"She's not going anywhere with you, Buddy." I remember Tommy's voice as a harsh growl. 

"Says who?" Bobby wasn't as tall as Tommy but he was solid as a brick, and he turned and puffed his chest out like a prizefighter.

They're fighting over me, I thought with a dazed wonder, and then a sneaky voice rose up from deep inside: This is all I've ever wanted. 

They circled each other and snarled like a couple of rabid dogs. "Boys, take a chill pill," I said, stumbling slightly in my drunken haze. 

Tommy extended his hand behind him, pushing me back and getting between Bobby and I. "Only a dickhead screws a girl when she's drunk. Now, piss off home Bobby, before you make me mad."

I kept looking back and forth at their faces like I was watching a tennis match. I won't lie, part of me was enjoying the display of male aggression, all over me. Fight! Fight! Fight!, the small, sneaky voice said.

But the rational part of my brain knew I'd regret this whole episode in the morning, and I didn't want anyone to get hurt.

Bobby snorted a few times like a bull pawing the dirt. Finally, with a shoulder check, he brushed by Tommy and faded into the night. "Fuck this. She's not worth it." He spit on the ground at my feet as he passed by. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"You're lucky I was here," Tommy said. "Now, let's get you home." He grabbed my arm, and I yanked it away.

"Who do you think you are? You're not the boss of me. I'm an impadent... an idapet... " I struggled to get the word right. "Independent woman. I wanted to go to law school, you know." Just then, I tripped over a root and face planted into the ground. 

"Help me?" I brushed the dirt off my face and rolled onto my back, lifting my arm up as the stars swam overhead.

He sighed and shook his head. "Just what I wanted tonight. Babysitting duty," he said. He took my hand and yanked me to my feet, a bit too fast. The world spun and I grabbed onto him for support. He was all lean muscle under his Black Sabbath t-shirt and jean jacket and I could feel his heart beating like a trapped bird under my hand. I looked up at him, his tanned face and dark eyes unreadable. His cheekbones were so sharp, they could cut butter, and a there was a dusting of stubble across his jawline. He smelled yummy — a combination of some kind of man soap, shaving cream and some undefinably male scent, like warm spice.