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Clayton
Friday night sucked for the Amel High Hornets. This team seriously needs some adjusting. Harmand is a lousy Captain, too busy chasing cheerleaders to actually call any decent plays. The coach tries, but with that prick on the field, there’s little he can do. Vic may be small, but he’s got speed. He’s about the only one worth a damn, besides me, I’d say.
No, I’m being too critical. It’s not the whole team, it’s just King Dickhead. I’m not supposed to be on school property, being suspended and all for my part in Abigail’s little assault, but I had to see what this team can do. Fuck it, my ass is grass anyhow, as soon as Mom and Dad find out. Fortunately, they don’t know... Yet. I managed to delete the message on the voice mail before they got it. The wonders of having technologically impaired parents.
It’s Saturday night and I’ve managed to talk Mom into letting me take her into the hospital so I can have her car for the weekend. She’s pulling double rotations, so she won’t be coming home till Sunday night, possibly Monday morning. I’m on my way to Mac’s to see just what the fuss is about. Dad’s got a poker game over at somebody’s house and won’t be home till morning, so no chance of running into him there. He doesn’t do the crowds, thank fuck.
From the outside, Mac’s looks like your run of the mill dive bar. It’s a big, wood building with the name scrawled across the top in Neon. The signs alone keep me from containing my laugh. I spy Wayde’s Jeep, and Adam’s Mazda, and there between them is the General Lee.
I take the deepest breath I can muster and open the doors. The sounds of dishes clanging and people shouting fill the huge smoky room. The lights overhead flicker in some spaces, playing up the shadows and masking faces. Seems like the whole town is crammed into the place. Just past the bar is the stage and walking across it checking the speakers is Abigail and Wayde. Adam is nowhere to be seen.
I watch as she sets up the big chair and tunes her guitar. She has on a pair of black hip hugger jeans and a lacy camisole tank top, her hair is pulled back from her face, mostly, except the purplish-blue streak, that she left hanging down in front of her face. She looks sexy as all hell.
She clears her throat into the mic and the room gets quiet.
“Hello, everyone! Welcome to Mac’s. Tonight is Open Mic night! Is everyone stoked? I’m Abigail Greenwood, and I’m gonna get us started if that’s cool by y’all!”
The room cheers for her, calling out her name!
“Abi! Abi! Abi!”
She starts out with a strong one, Fancy by Reba. I move toward the stage, my eyes locked on her. I can’t take them off her even if I want to., she has a stage presence. As she transitions into When I call your name by Vince Gill, all the fear she had the day before is gone. This is her stage—these are her people. The crowd is eating it up and so am I. I have to show this girl that I’m not just some dumb jock. This is it, my opportunity. Tonight is my shot. I head for the bar.
***
I must be out of my fucking mind. I very rarely perform outside of my house or beyond my Mom, but there is something about this girl that has me going out on a limb even if she might cut it off.
I walk up on stage, set the mic up at the standing piano, and I look across the crowd. Abigail is at the bar with Wayde and Adam, sipping on a soda pop. I crack my knuckles and sit, playing the intro to You Had Me from Hello by Kenny Chesney. I know every word and truth be told—I am an excellent tenor.
Adam is the first one to notice and look up. From there, it’s a domino effect right to Abigail. Our eyes meet for the first time tonight, and we smile at the same time. I feel a spark. I don’t know if she feels it too, but it’s like my whole body is being pulled toward her. As my first song ends, I move into The Dance by Garth Brooks. Now she’s coming toward the stage. When I finish, she lets out a loud as all hell wolf whistle, beaming as I come off the stage straight toward her. “Hey.” I smile, a little out of breath.
“Hey, you didn’t tell me you could sing. Better yet, you just did that with some messed up ribs, that’s an act of God!” She shouts as the next performers get up to try their hands at a duet.
“I had to, how else was I gonna finally get your attention?”
“Wait, so you done all of that to get my attention?”
I feel the flush go up into my cheeks as I nod, running my hand through my hair. “Would it be creepy if I said yes?”
“Maybe a little, but the real question is why?”
“You intrigue me. In a town full of daisies, you’re like a sunflower. Bigger, bolder, harder to avoid. You struck me from day one, so I’ve been trying to get ya to talk to me... But you’re so damn snarky and a tad scary.”
She clamps her hand down on the tattoo on her wrist and I realize it is actually a sunflower. I’ve hit a nerve, somehow. “One, we have talked. Two, I’m only scary cause I take no shit. And three, of course, I’m different, I ain’t gonna be like none of these other ones.”
“Yeah, well, I like that. I like you, and I think that you might just kinda like me too, even if it’s just a little smidge.” I waggle my brows at her and stick out my tongue.
“Like is a strong word. You’re okay. You got a few brownie points for live streaming the video, but you’re still working up to like since you touched me on your first day.”
“Aw, I did apologize for that one.” I manage to steer her away from the crowds and we lean against the wall in a quieter space.
“You might have, but it’s the fact that it was done in the first place.”
“How do I rectify this? Let me take you out. Anywhere you wanna go.”
She cocks a brow at me, “I don’t go out, I get one night off a week.”
“We’re suspended, we’ve got a bit of extra time. C’mon, lunch someplace, you gotta eat.”
“I’ll have to check with Fred, see if he needs me. I am working on this one vehicle, doing a full body work up.” She gives me a pointed look that tells me it’s my SUV.
I laugh nervously. How she can make me into a quivering pile of spastic tissue, I don’t know, but I kinda like it. I’m sure I’m blushing again as I drop my hand and it brushes hers just so slightly.
“So, that’s not a no then?”
“No, it’s not a no, but it’s not a yes, either.”
“Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“So, I can give you my number.”
“But you know where I’m at twenty-four seven, so why would I need your number?”
“In case you decide you’d like to talk to me. I’m a good listener, and I’m not often at the house. So just give it here.” I hold out my hand expectantly with a broad grin.
“A little presumptuous, ain’t we?”
“What’s up, do you have like a dino phone you don’t want me to see or something?” I laugh, imagining the old ass cell phones from the nineties.
“Actually, I don’t have a phone at all.”
“Oh? Wow. Okay, you could have just said that. Now I feel like a jackass.” I turn toward a waitress and snatch the pen out of her hair as she flits by. I take Abigail’s hand and start writing my number down.
“I’ll assume Fred has a phone. Do call me... Anytime.”
“Well, it’s a garage, so I’m pretty sure it has a phone, it is a place of business.”
“There you go, being snarky again. God, I could kiss you.” I grab her by the sides of the head and kiss her forehead before walking away. Best to quit while I’m ahead, even if only by an inch.
