Riptide - By Lindsey Scheibe Page 0,30

be there. Alcohol will be involved. If someone hands you punch, don’t drink it. If you drink anything, make sure it comes out of a can you open.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, big brother. I’m not the village idiot.”

“Hey, you usually don’t come to this kind of stuff. I want to make sure you’re okay. And, in spite of your I’m a big girl attitude, if anyone bothers you, let me know and I’ll take care of him. All right?”

Impatient, I bounce on the seat like a little kid. “Oh, okay. I’ll call you if someone tries to feel me up. Now let’s go.”

I start to push my shoulder into the passenger door.

He grins. “Nope. Tonight, milady, I’ll take care of that!” He hops out, runs around the truck, and opens my door. He tumbles an imaginary top hat off his head and bows.

Once more, I laugh. It feels good. A slight spark ignites, the kind that couldn’t flourish at home. Not enough oxygen. But I remind myself tonight is not the night for sparks to fly. Tamp it down, tamp it down.

The bonfire blazes, little sparks getting caught up in the wind and eventually blowing out in one final glow. One of the local crew strums a guitar, adding a melodic quality to this bohemian shindig.

“Parker? Let’s snag these lawn chairs.”

I turn around and the fire’s reflection shines on his black hair. He’s sitting in a ratty old lawn chair and gesturing to a red-striped one next to him. I join him and stare at the fire, enjoying the general chaos. People all over the place are in various stages of flirting, hooking up, getting drunk, dancing, or breaking up. Another in-my-face reason not to get together with Ford. And then there’s my promise to Mom. Besides, high school relationships don’t last. There’s an endless supply of drama to watch safely from my vantage point. I prop my feet up on the edge of Ford’s chair and inhale everything from the salty ocean air to smoke from the fire to an occasional whiff of beer as folks pass by.

Ford puts his hand on my foot. I tense up, unsure about what to do. That small amount of real estate on my ankle is enough to undo all my resolves.

My mouth’s as dry as cotton balls. “I’m thirsty.”

He starts to get up.

“No worries. I got it.” I escape, scurrying off toward the coolers, leaving him with an empty lawn chair.

I pass Damien. He checks me out in such an obvious way, I’d normally blow him off, but I’m flipping out and he’s been giving me rides, helping me with moves. I know he’s got more depth than Ford would have me believe.

I feel on edge and scrambled.

I stare right back at him and we connect. I take two steps and he finishes off the distance between us in a few quick strides. He’s wearing a Volcom hat and board shorts.

He does the double head bob I’m cool move and says, “Come here often?”

I tilt my head and try to look coy. “No. You?”

“Maybe I would if more girls like you came here.” He gives a wide grin, his teeth super white in contrast to his dark skin. His dreads are chill and make him look that much hotter.

“Well, maybe I will.”

“Damn, girl.”

I blush. I didn’t mean to come on to him that strong.

He cocks his head at me. “It’s all good.”

I place my hand on his muscled forearm and croak, “Yeah, it is.”

He seems amused, his lips curled in a faint smile. His eyes switch focus for a millisecond somewhere behind me.

I turn around to see Ford, who’s now two steps away from us with a couple of Gatorades.

Oh man. He’s taking this big brother thing way too serious. He’s not in charge of me.

Ford says, “Hey, guys. Grace, you said you were thirsty. I brought you a drink.”

I say, “Hey, Ford. Thanks.” I look back and forth between the guys and watch Ford’s usually calm expression tense up.

Damien peers down at Ford, then reaches out and takes the other drink. He says, “Thanks, Brah.”

Ford’s too stunned to move. “What?”

Damien says, “C’mon girl. Let’s dance.” He takes a sip of the Gatorade and hands it back to Ford. Then he places his hat on me and slowly backs up toward a crowd of

people dancing. He motions for me to follow him, and even though I feel like I might be setting something irreversible into motion, I perversely take a few