Sparks - Wendy Higgins Page 0,101

here’s your Cape Cod, top shelf. Happy birthday.”

“Aw, thanks!” I happily took the drink. I could never get a good enough buzz at clubs because it took forever between drinks to get another. So crowded. He tapped his glass to mine and we both drank. I took a second to admire the fit of his lightweight navy, V-neck sweater and dark jeans. Likewise, he took a second to glance down at my slinky black dress and knee-high boots.

Then he peered back out over the dance floor and took another drink. Without looking at me, he asked, “You still on that Sparks app?”

“Pssh.” I sucked down a gulp and waved a hand. “I’ve been off that for ages.”

He nodded, studying me. “I’m thinking of getting on.”

Ew. A really gross feeling slithered through me. “Really?” Was he just starting to date? Or maybe he’d been dating all summer? I had no idea. We never talked about that.

He gave a nod and flicked a glance to me. “My divorce was final this week. It’s time.” His head bopped minutely to the beat as he continued to peruse the room.

“Wow,” I said. His divorce was final. They’d gone through with it.

“Wow what?”

I shook my head and he watched me. “I guess I thought…”

“What?”

“That you two would get back together.”

“I figured that’s what you thought.” He drank from his glass while looking out over the dance floor. I didn’t know how to take that, and I didn’t know what to say.

To be honest, I hadn’t let myself daydream about Silas during his six-month separation. Each time I started, I imagined him back together with Jacquie, just like Shawn and Natalie. I pulled away from Silas, hard. It was my protective mechanism. But now? Ugh. He was single. Fully single. And he would get snatched up so fas—

A flash of light nearly blinded me. I pulled my head back and covered my eyes, then blinked to see Silas messing with his phone. He grinned and turned it around for me to see a horrible resting bitch face picture of myself, complete with forehead crease.

“Aw, Silas! Come on!” I grabbed for the phone and he yanked it out of my reach, laughing.

“That was a good one,” he shouted. “Best one yet.” He slid the phone down into his pocket as I glared and took another drink.

“I hate you,” I said, but he continued grinning.

I looked over at Dean and Holly, both with huge toothy-smiles, leaning in close to talk, then laughing. Aw. They were kind of cute. Guess I didn’t need to go back over there.

“I have a question for you.” I took a big drink and felt suddenly shy as he waited. “Do you still have that napkin?”

His grin grew into something mischievous. “Yes.”

“Oh.” I tried to bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling, but cheesiness won over.

“That makes you happy?”

“Kind of.” I lightly twisted back and forth at the waist, unable to stay still under the warmth of his grin. I sucked down the rest of my drink and set it on the bar, then grabbed Silas’s wrist. “Come on, let’s dance.” He let me pull him out to the dance floor where all my roommates threw their hands up and cheered as we joined them. And despite whatever weirdness was between Silas and me, it was good to have him there, part of my friend group. Though he wasn’t gay, that night he was the “safe male” that all of us could have our way with—dancing-wise—and he took it like a champ. Willa’s rump bumping, Syd rubbing her boobs on his back as she swayed, Beth slithering her front down his front. Even Macy twerked her way around him. I tried to behave, not wanting to blur those lines again. Cheryl sort of danced on her own beside us, her skirts twirling, now and then flinging her hair. She sidled up next to me.

“You need to finish what you started.”

I didn’t think I heard her right. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said against my ear. I shook my head adamantly and she nodded hers with a Cheshire grin on her face.

Nope. Not going to ruin our friendship again. I danced and ignored Cheryl’s knowing smile, but her stupid words stayed with me all night, making me keep my distance from Silas more than I would have otherwise.

Everything was okay until people bought me shots at the end of the night. Insert cringing.

I was a drunkie skunkie on the subway, leaning my head back on