I swayed, leaned forward with my head between my knees. Vomit burned the back of my throat and slid into my mouth. I clamped my teeth together while the world spun.
Just when I thought my mouth was about to be converted into a human puke geyser, Knox slammed on the brakes. We went flying forward and all toppled over one another in the bed of the truck. Kids laughed into the open air while watery slime slithered back down my gullet. The bones in my legs had dissolved into mush. Adam offered me a hand and, with a grunt, pulled me off Cassidy, who I’d managed to squash.
“I should at least make you buy me dinner first,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness.
I reached down to help her up. “Don’t talk about dinner right now,” I said, clutching my stomach.
Three more pairs of headlights skirted the field. I was still wobbly and dangerously close to vomiting. Adam held my hips and lowered me to the ground.
I dusted off my knees and looked around at the empty field. Fireflies played hide-and-seek, glowing yellow an inch away before disappearing, then lighting up again another ten yards farther. Crickets chirped out a high-pitched screech that made me watch where I was walking. I didn’t know why anyone would want to hang out someplace where there were bugs and no plumbing.
“Smith, catch.” Knox tossed Adam a can from a cooler on the back of William’s truck. Adam snatched it from the air. “Tor, you drink?”
“Actually, um—” I much preferred being able to think clearly, thank you very much.
“Catch.” I caught the glint of aluminum arcing through the air. I shuffled sideways, trying to position my feet. I stretched out my fingers. There was a flash of cold on my hands as the can slipped right through them and landed with a dull thunk in the dirt.
“Nice catch.” Knox fitted a camouflage baseball cap over his head and pulled the brim low over his eyes before kicking the cooler lid shut with his boot.
“Yeah, well,” I muttered as I bent down to pluck the can out of the dirt, “I bet you don’t know what forty-eight times thirty-five is either, buddy.”
“One thousand six hundred and eighty.” Beside me, Cassidy cracked open the tab on her beer.
I brushed caked mud off the side of the can. “Yeah. Um, that’s right, actually.”
“Don’t look so surprised.” She slurped the foam off the top. We stood side by side in silence for a few moments, watching kids pile out of the trucks. Adam had been corralled by the Billys and was being introduced to everyone by William and Billy Ray. “So what’s a girl like you doing at a thing like this, anyway?” She had one of those sweet-tea accents. I bet she sang out loud to country radio in the car.
“You mean a nerd like me?” I ran my finger around the edge of the can.
She shrugged, not bothering to correct me.
I kicked at the dirt. “I guess we’re sort of a package deal.” I nodded in Adam’s direction.
She nodded. “Man of the hour. You’re lucky.” Except that luck didn’t have a thing to do with it. Unless she was referring to bad luck, in which case there was probably a little of that.
Paisley walked over and bumped hips with her. “Try not to get so sloppy drunk this time, Hyde. Boys at least like a bit of a challenge.” Paisley’s belly button poked out from a denim vest.
Cassidy shifted her weight and abruptly dropped her beer to her side. I’d heard stories about Cassidy. About things she’d done with boys under the bleachers and in the woods and once in a deer blind. I stared up at the Big Dipper and pretended I hadn’t heard.
“Tor, on the other hand.” She circled me like a shark. “You could use all the help you can get.” She stopped walking and scanned my outfit, from my tennis shoes all the way up to the jacket sleeves that nearly swallowed the tips of my fingers.
Cassidy leaned over. “Seriously, though, if you’re going to be bitten by fire ants and mosquitoes for an entire evening, it’s best to brave it while buzzed.” She slurped beer from the rim of her can.
Paisley’s blue eyes were cool and appraising. She brushed away a strand of blond hair. “Knox says there’s worse out there than bugs, you know.” She put her hand over her eyes, using it as a visor. “Can’t even see more than a few yards beyond the headlights and we’re a long way from home, Torantula.” She stepped closer. “I suppose anything could happen.”
“Well, we all know Knox is full of shit.” Cassidy raised her beer as if she were making a toast.
Nearby, a ring of onlookers gathered around the beginnings of a fire. William was pushing his leather boot into a Duraflame log to get it crackling. The first orange flames licked the air, and Billy Ray and Knox took turns throwing sticks over the top.
“It’s true. This is where Roy McCardle died a couple years back.” Paisley ignored Cassidy. “You think if I drew a pentagram right here on the ground, I could raise him back from the dead?” She grabbed a stick from the ground and waved it over her head.
Roy McCardle. The name rang a bell, but I couldn’t place it.