Jonesy fussed with her bangs in the rearview mirror as she drove towards her date with destiny at the Silver Mine. Her eyes darted from the mirror, back to the road in front of her, squirmy without her hat. She felt naked, but at the same time a bit free, like at least for tonight she wasn't your everyday Jonesy. She wasn't the Jonesy she had been for the last nineteen years of her life. Maybe for tonight she could be better, she could be someone Jamie Reynolds would want to hang with, maybe even kiss. She pressed her knees against the steering wheel, keeping the car straight, as she lit her inhaler/pipe and took as big a hit as her lungs could hold. She needed to chill out and fast. She thought of taking a few hits of Squirt, but had a feeling in her gut that the universe would let her know when it was time to light one of those bad boys up. As it was, they still rested safely snug in the inner rim of her cap.
The Silver Mine was absolutely packed that night. Having a band like Sleater-Kinney come through town was a huge deal, especially for a small town like Lake's End and the even smaller punk community that resided there. The venue itself was a pub/bar/performance showcase, built inside a small industrial warehouse. It was the most popular place, and easily the coolest place, to go for the college aged crowd. Teenagers from the surrounding area were known to sneak in constantly, but no one ever seemed to get in trouble for it.
Jonesy found a place to park on one of the nearby side streets and walked briskly to the bustling parking lot of the Silver Mine. People of all sizes, shapes, ethnicities, and social cultures arrived and congregated in the parking lot. They smoked and laughed, kissed their partners, and talked and talked and talked. Jonesy stooped anxiously through the crowd of punks and hipsters, desperately searching for any sign of Jamie Reynolds. She chewed on her thumbnail and stood her full height, standing on tippy toes to try and see where they could be.
"Jonesy!" A melodic voice called.
She looked around, finally landing on the direction the voice had come from. Sitting on the trunk of her green Honda was Jamie Reynolds, five beautifully androgynous people hung around her and stared at Jonesy as she called her name. Jonesy let out a short breath at the sight of her and tugged her polo down, unconsciously self conscious.
Here we go. No turning back, now. Jonesy took another deep breath and tried to focus on not sweating. She tried not to think about how she was walking, Am I walking weird? How do I normally walk? Is it normal? Do I walk like a crazy person?? Just one foot in front of the other. Same as every other day. Jonesy stiffly made her way over to Jamie Reynolds, nearly tripping on her own feet.
"Hey! Jamie Reynolds!" Jonesy trotted over.
"Jonesy! I am so happy you came!" Jamie jumped off the car and ran up to Jonesy.
Jonesy blushed, "I mean, how can I say no to a night out with...uh," She caught herself, "A night out to, uh...see Sleater-Kinney!"
"Seriously!" Jamie clocked her hesitation, but ignored it.
The athletic, impeccably styled, androgynously, feminine boy that stood next to Jamie with their arms crossed, looked Jonesy up and down.
"Someone reeks of pot."
Jonesy blushed, "Oh, um." She smelled herself.
"It's fine. I'm just deadly allergic, that's all."
"Jasper, settle down. You're not allergic, you just can't handle your high." Jamie rolled her eyes and smirked.
Jamie took Jonesy's hand and pulled her in close, and smelled her neck. A wave of goosebumps shuddered Jonesy's body.
"I think she smells fucking incredible. Earthy, witchy." Jamie pulled Jonesy's hand to her, taking another smell with her eyes closed, then opening them just so, "I love it."
YOU ARE READING
Opening Day
HumorA slice-of-life comedy set in 1996. Platonic life-mates Jonesy & Max prepare themselves and stand in line for the premiere of the next installment of their favorite horror franchise. Hang out with these two dummies as they deal with life, love, frie...