It took a second for me to comprehend all of his heavily accented words.
I sat down on the other side of McKale. I felt like I was making him nervous or something. He wouldn’t meet my eyes for more than a brief second, and then he would find excuses to look elsewhere. He kept rubbing his hands on his pants and crossing his arms, then uncrossing them. I wanted to take his hand or touch him somehow to reassure him, but it was too soon for that. So instead I climbed up and sat on the table top, resting my feet on the bench next to where McKale sat.
He looked down at my feet, examining them so long I began to feel self-conscious about how big they were. At least my brown sandals were new and cute, bejeweled with cream flowers along the straps. He surprised me by reaching down and running a fingertip across my big toenail, then looking at his finger.
“How’d ye do that?” he asked, sounding fascinated. “Make it red, like?”
“Oh, um, it’s called nail polish. It’s a special type of paint. I can show you later, if you want.” He nodded and looked back down at my feet while I gazed at his full head of red hair. I’d always pictured him as a brunette like me, but I liked this better. Only a guy would be lucky enough to have such natural color variations: shades of red with nutmeg brown undertones. Autumn colors. The world was so unfair.
Cassidy and Rock were watching us. Rock said something that made her stifle a laugh, but I couldn’t make it out.
“May I?” McKale’s imploring eyes were looking up at me and I realized he was motioning to my shoe.
“Sure, yeah.” I slipped one off and he picked it up, turning it round and round to see the specimen from every angle.
“Have you ever seen flip-flops before?” Cassidy asked. McKale shook his head, feeling the strap. Then he held it on his outstretched hand and wrist, appearing to measure it. I worried that he’d scoff at the size nine, but he showed no reaction. He ran a finger over the imprint my foot made in the squishy sole, and I began to feel tingly from the indirect attention. I wiggled my toes absently.
“Go ahead then, mate!” shouted Rock. “Give the shoe a snog—ye know ye want to!”
I blushed and McKale blanched, slipping the flip-flop back on my foot and crossing his arms.
“Git,” he mumbled toward our wee companion. Rock was undeterred by the insult.
After that, we sort of kept our attention on Cass and Rock who were quite the silly pair. He had to holler to make his voice heard over the raucous laughter and music around us.
“So you can get big, like us?” she asked her tiny admirer. He nodded. “Can you do it now?”
“Only for another kiss!”
Cassidy laughed, a glint in her eye. “My lips are too big. I almost suffocated you last time.”
“Kiss me when I’m big!”
“My parents are standing right over there.” But when we looked, they weren’t there anymore. “Hey, where’d they go?” Cassidy and I both stood up and searched with our eyes. They were nowhere in the crowd. A short blast of tingling magic hit us at our backs and we spun around. There on the top of the table sat Rock, full-sized, limber legs crossed. Cass let out a little scream in surprise.
“Ladies,” he said, inclining his curly head and flashing a cute grin.
I looked at McKale and caught him studying my face again. I gave him a small smile. To my surprise he flashed me a quick one in return before looking away again. It was the first time he’d smiled at me and it sent a buzz of warmth through my body.
Rock stepped nimbly down from the table, past McKale. The Clourichaun was my height, I couldn’t help but notice. Rock bowed to me first before turning to my sister. He took Cassidy’s hand and kissed her fingertips. Definitely a charmer. Then without asking, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She did not pull away. Instead she went up on her toes. Thankfully the kiss ended before I started to feel embarrassed, but it left Cassidy with a dreamy look on her face.
Her dream-state was quickly shattered when Brogan broke through the crowd, swinging his arms at Rock, who jumped back. Brogan’s assault kept coming, landing punches anywhere he could on the Clourichaun. Rock cupped his hands over his crotch, laughing as he begged Brogan to take it easy. McKale shook his head and chuckled as his friend climbed up and over the table, escaping Brogan’s wrath.
“What are you on about, old man?” Rock asked, extending his arms in question from the safety of the other side of the table. He had a mock-pained expression on his smooth face, underscored with amusement. McKale’s father was pink in the cheeks and had his small hands balled into fists.
“Our guests have hardly been ‘ere an hour and yer already making advances at their youngest? I think not! Keep your no-good hands to yerself and don’t be causing trouble among us. Do ye hear?”
“Aye, crystal clear. I’ll be a good lad. Promise.”