Rebel Boys and Rescue Dogs, or Things That Kiss with Teeth by Brianna R. Shrum

Author:Brianna R. Shrum
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781510757837
Publisher: Sky Pony
Published: 2022-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

TONIGHT IS SADIE HAWKINS. It’s one of my favorite dances, mostly because people aren’t restricted to the most formal of formalwear, so it’s like . . . I don’t know. People show up acting normal. Like it’s a party, rather than a school-sanctioned event. I still look good; I mean, come on. I’m in jeans (that I got from Goodwill and artfully ripped myself—and did an absolutely banger job, thank you very much) and they show off my butt, which is the purpose of jeans. Heels that I’ll slip off the second I really start dancing but that make my legs look a mile long. I’ve painted my toenails this super pretty, subtle shimmery shade of ballet pink just two ticks off from my actual nail color, and the red, off-the-shoulder shirt I picked up for four bucks is classy but also a little ~scandalous~, and that’s exactly what we’re going for here. I feel good.

Plus, I got tossed into the whole arrest and volunteering mess just as the planning for this thing was starting to wind down, and I’m extremely proud of myself for making it work.

It’s good.

Tonight? Is good.

Evian jumped at the chance to give me a ride here, and I took it. Usually I don’t. I love her. I love all of them. But, I don’t . . . I know, I tend to keep my distance. Just a little. Just enough to keep them from rubbing off on me. Tonight, though, everything is stellar, and I took the ride. It’s not personal, not really. She supports me. And I do love her. And it was nice. And so is this.

Alisha and her girlfriend are here, matching—it’s part of the Sadie Hawkins theme but only like half the paired up folks do it here. Paige insisted. Alisha is . . . tired. There are little dots of matching colors here and there, one trio passing me to the snack bar in matching outfits, which is mildly scandalous but in a “Hell, good for you guys” way. The music is smooth, the snacks are smooth, the minimal décor has worked out, and I’m just . . . proud. I’m proud of the work we’ve done. Laura Kim is here with her boyfriend and she pops up behind me.

“We did it.”

I turn out, beaming. “Hell yeah, we did.”

She bounces on her toes and stares out over the crowd. “Miss you lately, though. I haven’t seen you at the last couple meetings.”

I shrug. “I know,” I say. “I’ve been so swamped.”

“Yeah?” She’s not accusatory; Laura really is just extremely kind. But still, my pulse jumps dancing this close to my big fat secret.

“Yeah,” I say. I feel a shadow pass behind me, one I’m more aware of than I am of random couples and throuples and students I don’t know. Just as I say, “I’ve just been working on college stuff on the weekends, and that’s been kind of eating into my weekdays; you know how it is,” that shadow chokes and laughs.

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