the disgusting bathroom floor. When he turned his head away, I took advantage of the time and checked out his tattoos. The one that stuck out the most was the nautical star on the top of his hand that melted onto the side of his wrist. I’m not sure what it was about the tattoo that was so appealing, but that, combined with the flexing of his muscles as he played, was very attractive.
I was beginning to understand Megan’s fascination with bad boys, although I’d never admit that to her. Zeke had been a total dick to me both times we spoke, but he wasn’t handsy and he didn’t make any sexual advances toward me, and in some way I appreciated that about him.
Then again, looking around at all the tattooed, half-naked women in the room, I obviously wasn’t his type and just a small part of me wanted to be like the girls around me. I may look the part tonight, but this wasn’t me at all and no amount of tiny clothes or makeup could make me like them.
Zeke strummed the chords for his solo and once again I was caught with how untouchable he was for me. He closed his eyes as he played and the light glinted off the piercing on his eyebrow. I found myself jealous of his freedom to be himself. Just like the first time I saw him, he was dripping with moody sexiness. The fact that I could describe him as sexy was a huge step for me, but it was the truth and all the girls pushing toward the stage to get into his line of vision knew it just as much as I did. Zeke Mitchell was sexy. He was a total asshole, but I guess it worked for him.
After a few unopened bottles of beer, and entirely too many stink eyes from the bitchy bartender, I was starting to feel myself relax. The alcohol had made its way through my system and down into my limbs. I was beginning to enjoy myself. I even caught myself swaying to the music every now and again.
An hour after that, I was dancing with Megan and a group of people I didn’t know. I was jumping up and down, screaming lyrics I’d just learned, and laughing like I hadn’t laughed since I was seven. Like, real laughter, not the fake stuff that I produced around people at school. It was an amazing feeling. I could totally see myself becoming an alcoholic real quick if it meant feeling this way all the time.
And then suddenly the fun was over. The crowd broke and darted in different directions as The Pit filled with police officers. Megan grabbed my hand and pulled me in her direction, but the beer had taken its toll and my reflexes weren’t working.
“Come on, Patience! Pick up your feet!” she screamed over the loudness.
The music had stopped and all I could hear were the sounds of the police yelling for everyone to freeze. The lights were flickering and I saw a few people get trampled. Then Megan’s hand was ripped from mine and I was thrown back. I lost my balance and fell hard onto the sticky concrete floor. I tried to get up, but some girl stepped on me and I fell back onto my stomach. Then I felt a strong grip on my arms as someone pulled me into the standing position. For a brief moment, I felt relief, but then my arms were pulled behind my back and I was handcuffed.
Five
Zeke
“You going to class?” Chet asked, as he passed me a joint.
We were lying in the back of my El Camino, getting high in the school parking lot.
“I doubt it. You?” I took a deep draw and held it.
“Pfft, hell no. I’ve had enough schooling for the week. Let’s go grab something to eat, man. I’m fucking starving my ass off. I’d give my left nut for a burger and a milkshake right now.”
We ended up at the McDonald’s by Finn’s house with half of the dollar menu lying across the dash of my car.
“So, that chick Megan is coming out Friday to watch us play. I hope she wears that tight-ass schoolgirl uniform.” He made a growling noise in the back of his throat. “Dude, that shit is fucking hot. Hey, maybe she’ll bring your girl with her. You know the blonde. If she can stay sober long enough maybe you’ll get lucky,” he joked.