Author's Note: Mature themes and strong language are ahead. Enjoy! ;) – KL
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November 1986
I drummed my fingers against the white table cloth waiting nervously for someone to sit beside me. Several other tables had been joined to make room for everyone I invited. Shooting for "Bad" finally ended here in New York and I finally had the nerve to throw some sort of wrap party. Voices chuckled. Smiles beamed. Marvin crooned from the stereo up front as I reached for another bread stick. Two years had passed since his death and I still couldn't wrap my head around why. Yet, countless memories always gave me a reason to grin.
I used to go out to parties.
And stand around.
Cause I was too nervous.
To really get down...
Quincy made some of us laugh by raising his glass and dancing in seat for a moment. I arched an eyebrow behind my sunglasses and lifted them, immediately recognizing another guest. Brenda snapped her fingers and walked in my direction with the biggest smile on her face. "Superstition" rumbled throughout.
Moments later, we met again with a friendly embrace, rocking to the music in each other's arms. I pulled away, but hold both of her hands as we smiled wide, happy to see one another for the first time in a while. Without thinking, I led back to the table while holding her hand, blushing from cheek to cheek this time around. It wasn't long before Wesley noticed and shot me an assumed look. I scoffed, unmoved by his silly feelings.
Brenda and I shared even more breadsticks and pushed on conversation over the music. Every once in a while, she'd flashed another pretty grin. Butterflies turned rampant in my stomach once more, but I still couldn't find the courage to say anything out loud and possibly scare her away. I hadn't felt this comfortable around another woman since Diane or even Elizabeth Taylor.
Once dinner finally arrived, she settled in for sure. I picked away at the salad Id chosen, but she almost drooled after a plate of Lasagna met her brown eyes. They framed square glasses once more and those short curls had never left, even tonight with that gust of snow plowing outdoors.
"Is it good?" I took a sip of Jack Daniel, feeling the harsh buzz hit my throat instantly. Not once did coil as she lifted her glass of red wine, suddenly watching me from the rim.
"Mom's is better, but yeah." she set down the glass and cleared her throat. That New Jersey accent returned for a moment, but calmed.
"No offense, but are you Italian?" I asked, taking a sip of water to curb myself.
"Not fully" she laughed, but it's in our blood and my great-grandmother taught Mom recipes for different dishes."
"Oh," I dragged. Stevie continued up front, but awkward silence followed. I couldn't help watching sip or eat, even if this all kind of seemed or peculiar or slightly obsessive. Those short curls brought back the shadow, sending another chill down my spine. She just looked so...peaceful...for a reason I couldn't figure out.
"Thanks for inviting me." Brenda stopped taking bites and wiped her mouth. I hadn't even realized that Quincy already dropped out for the evening.
"No problem." I smiled genuinely and took another sip of water, but something raked my mind. "I hope you have a good time."
For some reason, Brenda didn't seem as lively now. I didn't know what to think. Her eyes turned every which way but me whenever I looked in her direction now. She'd even pushed away her empty plate and mumbled even more of Stevie's lyrics, possibly thinking that I couldn't even hear or notice the way her lips moved along. Manicured nailed drummed against the cloth while her eyes dropped low and away from me yet again.
