My stomach churns, my intestines sloshing throughout my stomach. I realize I have had way too much popcorn. Patrick notices, and laughs at me, poking my shoulder playfully.
"Shut up," I smirk at him.
"I didn't say anything." he responds, lifting his hands in the air, innocently. I shove it him back, a little rougher than gentle.
A bang strikes me like lightning. The crack alarms me, and I swiftly spin around, in the direction of the boisterous vibration. Looking to the sky, my furrowed eyebrows move back outwards, my expression of horror fading to a gaping mouth. My feelings of anxiety turn to surprise. The sparks erupt in the sky, purples and blues and greens. I could go on listing colors forever, but they are all there.
"You afraid of fireworks now, Tess?" he looks at me, a smirk spreading across his face. I catch my breath, my shoulders rising and falling heavily.
"No," I pause a moment, holding out the end of the word, "I was just startled." if I was speaking to anyone else, that excuse would have been enough. But not with Patrick . Patrick can always tell when someone is lying.
"Alright," I shove him a little, he never believes me, even just a white lie, he knows. After that we don't speak, we just watch the colors explode in the sky. Every boom my heart flutters with excitement. Every spark I glance to Patrick , but he doesn't meet my eyes, he's too enveloped in the magic of the fireworks. And I suppose I should focus on them too.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy With The Motorcycle
Roman d'amourThe nausea passes, and I take another step towards the house. I am caught off guard by a zooming noise, and my ears start ringing. I look behind me, to investigate the sound. A motorcycle speeds down the dirt path of the forest. Dirt erupts behind h...
