Runaway ✔

132 • Dana

One of the things she liked most about their relationship, were their spontaneous trips. Two days ago Juice suddenly came up with the idea of going to a festival, and before she even got the chance to object, he had bought a tent and other camping stuff. Not that Dana had wanted to object. She absolutely loved undertaking things together, for she wasn't much more talented in sitting still than Juice himself. Not that she minded much; she had been captivated or hidden for such a long time she wouldn't dare to complain, but going out just gave her much more energy. 

They had put up their tent on the camping adjacent to the festival terrain, after which they had walked to the stages. Even though there was already a band playing, they first got a beer and sat down in the grass in the shadow. Putting up the tent had made them tired and despite September nearing its end, it was still hot as hell. But there was a chance that wouldn't change in Mexico. After all, they were pretty close to the equator. 

Dana took a sip of her beer, which was less cold than she'd hoped for, and watched the people around her. Many of them were hanging around in small groups, circles of friends who had withstood high school. There were lots of men with long hair and beards, and some of them reminded her of Opie. She felt a pang in her chest and sighed softly. Quickly she took another swig, before Juice would notice the death of their friend had eclipsed her heart once again. She didn't want their loss to ruin this day. 

Her hand slipped in Juice's hand, lifting it and she pressed a kiss to the back of it. He smiled as he caught her glance, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. She shrugged and drank in the sight of him. There was more hair on his head than she'd ever seen and she secretly missed his mohawk and head tattoos. It was just part of him, and he wouldn't have stood out here. At least half of the men walking around her had tattoos and nobody would be surprised to see a mohawk, especially not such a small one as Juice's. His thumb brushed hers and lost in thoughts she toyed with one of his golden rings for a while. 

Juice sat up a little straighter and looked at her. "You often went to festivals like this? With your friends?"

Dana nodded. "Not for a very long time. For a year or two we scouted all the festivals around my hometown."

She had some good memories, but most of them had a bitter taste now. Maddox had been on most of those festivals too. It was even the place where their relationship had started. She remembered it like it was yesterday. 

Razor sharp guitar riffs cut through her ears. The bass was so loud her whole body was shaking and above it she heard the screams of Howard Jones, the singer of Killswitch Engage. Just like the rest of the crowd Dana moved her head up and down. She didn't dare to headbang too wild, a mosh pit had started right in front of her and she wanted to see what was happening there. She wasn't very tall and even though she found it fascinating to look at all those men busting down each other, she rather didn't end up between them. Now and then Maddox caught her eye, who didn't eschew a violent dance like this. He looked tough, the way he was moving between the others. Her eyes followed every move he made, and the few times he caught her looking at him she felt her cheeks getting hot. 

He had been one of the reasons she had wanted to go to the festival. The first time she had seen him, had been on the birthday party of Monica's brand new boyfriend Casper. Maddox was his brother and part of his black clothed group of friends to which Monica and also Dana were quickly added. Dana had always had an alternative taste of clothes, which had made her an outsider on school. Although her brother could also have been the reason for that. Many things were whispered about him and she had the feeling there were no boys who wanted to give her a real chance because of him. It really drove her crazy. 

She didn't exactly know what they said about him. Often one just murmured, as if they didn't want to share their knowledge with her. Her thoughts wandered to Kozik, who had left her world a few years ago, thanks to Tom. Who knows to what rumors that had led...

But Tom wasn't here, and Maddox didn't live in Bakersfield. Maybe he did see her. She hoped it, so badly. It had been a long time since she had really been interested in someone. They had hanged out with their mutual friends in a hard rock cafe a few times, but they had never really talked.

Suddenly something hit her face. She stepped back and pushed a hand against her cheek. Her skin was glowing. A boy gave her an apologetic look, his eyes glazing over because of his drunken state, before he jumped in the pit again. Dana gritted her teeth. This was her own fault, she should have paid more attention. Standing so close to a mosh pit was asking for trouble, but she just had a good vision from this place. On the band and on Maddox. 

The mosh pit however became heavier and heavier. She tried to step back, but there were other people standing behind her. With a cramping feeling in her chest she moved her right arm in front of her body, the elbow outward, so someone would be hit in the back before he hit her. 

And suddenly he was there. Next to her. He laid an arm around her waist, turning her away from the wild audience. 

"Let me protect you," he said, an intense look in his eyes. 

And he did. The next concert they stood somewhere in the back, making out as if they could die any moment. Two bands later they were in his tent, where she shyly undressed herself in front of him, and a few minutes later they were fucking between his unpacked bags and the not even inflated air mattress. 

A squeeze in her hand pulled her out of the memory. "Dane? What were you thinkin'?"

Juice looked expectantly at her. Before answering, she pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit up a smoke. She took a few deep breaths before she answered honestly: "It was on a festival like this when Maddox and I... kissed for the first time. And, you know, more..."

She bit her lip, regretting she brought up his name. But he was part of her past, of her life, whether she liked it or not. 

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, still feeling the need to apologize.