Bourbon Nights - Shari J. Ryan Page 0,2
been clicking the button on the side of my phone because my focus was on Melody.
“I—”
She couldn’t seem to get out whatever was on the tip of her tongue, and I was sure she was about to return to the party, so I knew I had to say something. “You okay?” I asked.
Melody’s eyes seemed fixed to the wall behind me, and she held her focus there for a long second as she dipped her hands into her back pocket. “Um—yeah—I know we haven’t spoken much over the past couple of years, but I—”
I wondered if she knew how much I missed talking to her after she walked by me so many times. Maybe she thought I didn’t notice. “You what?”
Melody’s cheeks brightened to a light shade of pink, and she closed her eyes for an elongated blink. Her lips pressed together before parting to speak. “I might have a teeny-tiny little crush on you, which is lame and stupid to say out loud, but I heard you’re leaving for boot camp soon, and I figured maybe I should say something.”
I wasn’t expecting to hear the words that came out of her mouth. I didn’t even know she knew I was leaving for boot camp. I’m sure our parents spoke, but I never knew to what extent. If I told her I felt the same way, the truth would have only hurt her, being so close to leaving for boot camp. And if I didn’t respond, I would have been the biggest jerk in the world. I didn’t know what to say, but I wish I had thought of something better than, “That’s very sweet.”
The hue of her cheeks burned into a deeper shade of red. I embarrassed her.
A hiccup shuttered through Melody’s body, interrupting our awkward conversation. For what I thought was embarrassment a moment earlier was nothing compared to the current look. She cupped her hands over her mouth, staring at me with a look of horror. “Sorry, I had a little—” she muttered through her hands.
I smiled to ease her discomfort. “Did you sneak a little bourbon?”
She smiled in return, and it was as if our long-lost friendship was back where it should have been. Maybe it was one-sided, but to me, it felt like no time had passed.
“A little; a couple of sips,” she said.
I held my hand up, pinching my fingers in front of my eye to question the amount she consumed. “I thought you were the well behaved one of Mr. Quinn’s daughters?” I asked with a chuckle.
“I am!” Melody squealed. She responded as if I questioned her integrity, but also found the statement humorous.
“Well,” I said, immediately wishing I hadn’t begun such an open-ended statement with nothing to follow. I was surely about to lose control over what would come out of my mouth. “I can’t say I haven’t noticed your beauty these last couple of years. It’s weird after growing up around each other, then seeing you in a new way.” I should have stopped after saying I noticed her.
“It’s the red hair,” she said, making it sound as if someone needed an excuse to notice her. Her hair is not what makes her stand out. She doesn’t need any kind of unique feature to be the center of attention. “It got redder as I got older, and now, I stand out like a sore thumb.”
Panic set in when I wondered what she thought I meant. “That’s not what I meant,” I tried to correct myself.
“Oh,” she said, breathless while sweeping her hair away from her shoulders.
I stepped toward Melody, needing her to understand that I was not taking her confession as a simple compliment. There were countless times I wished she spoke to me before that night. “It’s true, though, I’m leaving for boot camp soon.” Why did I sign those papers without a second thought? I should have just retaken the SATs and, waited a few weeks to think things through. I had so many reasons for joining and very few for trying harder to get into a college. Yet, at that moment, I had more reasons to stay in Vermont and work harder to attend college than to become someone I wasn’t cut out to be. I was acting on those regretful thoughts as I reached for Melody’s chin, sweeping my fingers toward her neck, encouraging her to gaze up at me. “If I wasn’t leaving—”
It was the dumbest thing I could have said or done to her and