“Vicks, it’s thirty dollars. Them’s the rules.”
He pulled out his wallet. “I’ve got twenty-three dollars and . . .” He reached into his pocket. “And twelve cents. I need gas money. Do you take credit cards?”
“Really, Vicks? Credit cards at a school dance?”
“How about a beginner’s discount?”
“Give me three bucks and take me to a movie and we’ll call it even.”
He was still looking for hidden cash in his wallet. “I can make that happen.”
“Try not to sound too thrilled.”
At the hurt in her voice, Ben looked up. “Any movie you want, Lisa.”
Her smile was wide. She gave him a ticket. “Nice to see you somewhat normal again, Vicks.”
“‘Somewhat’ is a loaded word.” He winked at her and barreled into the crowd, his eyes taking in the room with a few sweeps. Ro was sitting on JD’s lap. Once again, she had taken up her position as rightful queen with her minions glomming on to her every word and action. And she did look happy, as did JD. The two of them were a natural couple. They radiated popular.
Ben wended his way through the crowd, through the ribbons and decorations and bunting and the multicolored strobe lights and the loud, off-key doo-wop fifties music pumped out by the local school band, Onionfeather. There was a spread, and a big one, but the real party would be afterward at Weekly’s house. Ro would probably get drunk or stoned and she and JD would probably wind up in bed. He had no one but himself to blame.
He felt blood rushing to his head. Despite his jealousy, he enjoyed the emotion—the righteous indignation and the martyrdom. He broke into the tight circle and took Ro’s arm. “I need just a minute alone with her, JD.” A statement, not a question. “Maybe two minutes.”
“What’s going on?” JD asked.
“Nothing.” Ben dragged her through the crowd until he found a relatively unpopulated spot in the corner. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you.” He looked into her soulful and somewhat moist blue eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“I take it you liked my gift.”
“It was the most perfect thing ever. I don’t know what else to say except thank you.”
“Think for a moment. It should come to you.”
“I love you.”
“Got it on the first try.”
“No, I really, really love you.”
“I know you do.” She stroked his cheek. “And I love you too. That will never, ever change.” Her eyes leaked tears. “I’d better get back to my date. You look ridiculous in a beret.” She took it off his head and fluffed out his curls. “Much better.”
His hands were still on her shoulders after Onionfeather announced they were taking a break. When the PA music started up, Ben recognized the song. It was one of his grandmother’s favorites, sung by one of her favorite singers: Buddy Holly, “True Love Ways.”
Ben grinned. “Dorothy Majors, before I leave this stately event, would you please honor me with this dance?”
Her smile lit up her face. “Yes, I will honor you with this one dance. But no hip grinding.”
“Damn, you’re onto me.” He placed one hand around her waist and took her right hand in his left. He started with a slow box step and she immediately stepped on his foot.
“Sorry.”
“Not a problem.”
“How come all you boys know how to dance?” Ro leaned her head into his chest. “I mean, like, real dancing?”
“Because when we were all twelve, our mothers got together and tried to civilize us with real dance lessons.” Ben smiled. “We didn’t mind. It was a cheap way to get close to the girls. You’re fighting me, by the way. Just relax and let me lead.”
“That’s what JD always says. I’m not used to real dancing.”
“You mean you’re not used to letting someone else lead.” He tightened his grip around her waist and brought her close to him. “Simple box step. Back, side, forward, side. Just close your eyes and follow me. I won’t let you fall.”
“This is nice.” She snuggled into his arms. “Really nice.”
“Yeah, you’re feeling it now.”
“I certainly am.”
Ben felt himself go hot. “Stop that!”
“I meant the dance.” She smiled. “You always think I have dirty thoughts on my mind.” A pause. “I do, of course. What can I say? Some of us are just randy.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way . . .” He smiled. “Whether or not I’m the recipient.”
“You made your decision, Vicks. Sleep alone in your own bed of your own making.”
“Touché,” Ben told her.
At the end of the song, Ben was planning on a chaste peck. Instead he took her mouth and gave her a passionate, movie-worthy kiss. He felt the heat of the spotlight on them. In the background, he heard collective oohs and aahs until Mr. Gomez came up and pulled them apart. “You know the rules.” He could barely keep the smile off his face. “Next time it’s detention.”
Ben grinned. “I need to go outside for some air . . . before I faint.”
“Can I join you?” Ro asked.
“You’re the problem.” He stroked her cheek. “Go back to your date.” Ben walked through the gymnasium, beret in hand, and into the night, under a black sky filled with a thousand stars—a thousand wishes. His head was buzzing with music and lust.
“Hey, Vicks!” Ben turned around just as JD landed a solid punch on his jaw. “That’s for making an ass out of me in front of everyone.” Ben touched his bloody lip and glared at JD, who said, “You don’t belong here, Vicksburg. Get the hell out.” He turned around, heading back to the gym.
Something deep inside welled up. Without conscious thought, Ben charged, almost sacking the quarterback. JD was solid steel with a solid center of gravity, but Ben knocked the wind out of him.
“You motherfucker!” Ben screamed as he landed a punch on his face. “You screwed my girlfriend.”
JD took a blow to the jaw, reached up, and used his height to get Ben in a headlock. He screamed back, “She was my girlfriend before she was your girlfriend.” He tightened his arm around Ben’s neck. “I should have screwed her first.”
Ben grabbed JD’s arm and clawed at it with his nails. He slammed his foot on JD’s instep as he wheezed out, “I not only screwed her before you did, I screwed her before anyone did!”
Suddenly the pressure eased from his neck and Ben pushed JD off, stumbling over his feet, holding his throat and coughing. JD had a weird look in his eyes.
“She was cherry?” Silence. “No, no, Vicks. That’s an old trick. It was probably her period.”