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The Pick-Up, Page 3

Miranda Kenneally


  I passed him the black cowboy hat he wears everywhere, gave him a hug good-night, and totally panicked. I had no interest in dating him.

  I couldn’t fall asleep that night. Why would Austin kiss me? He was cute. He could be with whoever he wanted at school.

  The kiss was nice, but it had to be a one-time thing. Dating leads to disagreements, which leads to fighting. Which leads to breakups.

  I’d rather be alone than risk losing someone I care about. Especially someone I love as much as Austin.

  The next morning at school, he was striding down the hallway toward me in that cowboy hat of his with a big smile on his face. He came right up to my locker and leaned in to kiss me. Totally something a couple would do. I pulled back.

  Wrinkles formed on his forehead.

  As a kid, the idea of quicksand terrified me. If I started to sink in it, how would I pull myself out? I couldn’t do a single pull-up during gym class.

  I worried about falling into quicksand on the playground. At the beach. Even random places like the park and outside the grocery store. Pretty much everywhere. I didn’t understand you weren’t likely to sink in quicksand in Manchester, Tennessee.

  In that moment with Austin, I hoped the floor would turn into quicksand and swallow me whole.

  With a deep breath, I told him, “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but I don’t want a relationship.”

  His face crumpled, then he pulled off his hat and leaned his forehead against mine. “We would be so good together.”

  Deep down I knew it could be true, but I wasn’t willing to try us as a couple on for size. I wasn’t doing that with him. Not with anybody.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to him, and with a red face, he turned and stormed off down the hallway. He didn’t show up in calculus. Later I found out he skipped the rest of the day and went to Normandy Lake to be alone. I cried when I pictured him sitting on the tailgate of his truck, gazing out at the still water.

  Now? Nothing is the same. Austin never hugs me anymore. It takes forever for him to text me back.

  I look up from my phone at T.J. He’s laughing at something his brother said and pointing off into the distance. T.J. slowly turns his head, and the wide smile he gave his brother becomes shy and sweet as he finds my eyes. Looking at me, he pulls a deep breath, his chest puffing out. I feel a sudden urge to rest my head against it and hug him.

  I shove those emotional desires deep down inside me. I can’t risk that.

  I’ve already hurt Austin.

  I don’t want to hurt anybody else.

  * * *

  I huddle with Sierra, T.J., and Tyler as the crowd bustles around us.

  “My friends are meeting at Tito’s stage to see Foo Fighters,” Tyler says in a raised voice so we can hear him over the roar of the crowd. “You guys want to come?”

  Sierra shakes her head. “We’re going to see Rosalía first. My friends are waiting for us there.”

  “I could go with you,” I say to T.J. “I’d rather see Foo Fighters.” Which is the truth. I’ve always liked that band.

  Sierra takes my arm, pulling me a couple feet away from the boys. “You’re supposed to stay with me, Mari.”

  “I will be with you…at the larger Lollapalooza festival.”

  She bites her lower lip. “Mom and David will be pissed.”

  “They won’t know if we don’t tell them.”

  “We’re supposed to check in with them together.”

  “So let’s do it now.” I pull out my phone and open the Skype app.

  Sierra’s eyebrows furrow. “I got us these tickets so we could hang out, you know. Not so you could run off with some guy.”

  I’m the worst kind of friend and stepsister, putting a guy first. “You’re right. I’ll stay with you.”

  “Nah, just kidding, I’m messing with ya.” Sierra pushes my shoulder and bursts out laughing. “I don’t care. T.J. is seriously hot. You need to go get some of that.”

  Before Austin, I kissed a few boys when I was younger, at camp and at school dances. I enjoyed it. I wouldn’t mind making out with a guy like T.J.

  It’s not like anything serious could develop between us. He’s going to college in Chicago in the fall, while I have another year of high school in Tennessee. If it’s only a weekend, it’s not like I could hurt him.

  Maybe it would be okay to have a weekend fling. A weekend fling and nothing more.

  T.J.

  “What do you think they’re talking about?”

  Tyler shrugs. “Probably making plans so that you can hang out with Mari.”

  I take a deep breath.

  My brother pats my shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Nervous, I guess. I like her. Do you think that’s nuts? I mean, that I could like someone I just met?”

  Tyler puts his hands in his shorts pockets. “I think it’s normal to know when you’re into somebody.”

  Mari glances over at me with a worried look on her face.

  Tyler nods at her. “You should offer to go with them instead of hanging out with me. They’re probably nervous about splitting up.”

  I rub my palms together. “You’re right.”

  “Let’s plan to meet up at the Perry’s sign at eleven tonight. Text me if anything changes.” Tyler pulls out his wallet, digs in it for a second, then pulls out a condom. Then he cocks his head, thinks for a second, and pulls out two more condoms. He passes me all three.

  Shit. I shove his hand away. What if Mari saw that? “I’m not going to need those.”

  My brother smirks at me. “You never know, man. Just take ’em.”

  With a quick glance around, I grab them and push them deep into my pocket. “Don’t you need them?”

  He holds up his wallet and shakes it. “Plenty more where that came from.”

  “How do you fit them all? Is your wallet a clown car? Open it up, and more and more condoms keep pouring out?”

  “Sure, let’s go with that.” Before he walks off, he turns around and points at me. “Make sure to either use those, or take them out of your pocket before Mom does the laundry. Trust me, you do not want to deal with that.”

  I cringe.

  After patting my pocket to make sure the condoms won’t fall out, I walk over to Mari, praying she didn’t see what my brother gave me. I’d hate for her to get the wrong idea.

  With a deep breath, I tell her, “I’m up for seeing whoever, as long as it’s with you.”

  My words come out cheesier than I figured they would, but they surprise Mari and make her smile.

  “I was telling the truth about seeing Foo Fighters,” she says. “My dad always played their music when I was little.”

  “Let’s go then,” I say, taking her hand. It feels warm and just right.

  She looks down at our hands linked together, and inhales sharply through her nose. “Listen,” she says, and my heart pauses. “I need to run use the restroom. Wait right here?”

  “I’ll stay with him,” Sierra says.

  Mari nods at her stepsister. “Be right back.”

  The second Mari jogs out of sight, Sierra turns to me, bounces on her toes, and claps. “Eeee, I can tell Mari has a thing for you.”

  I run a hand through my hair. “Really?”

  “Yes!” Sierra’s so excited, she pushes my shoulder. “This is a big deal.”

  “A big deal?” My voice cracks. “I met her, like, half an hour ago.”

  Sierra shakes her head. “You don’t get it. Mari never dates guys.”

  “Oh. So she’s into girls?”

  “No, that’s not it. Mari always talks about Shawn Mendes and those guys from BTS, and regrams pictures of pretty much every player on the UT Knoxville football team on her feed. If she was into girls, I’d know it… When I talk about which girls I like, i
t’s not like she joins in.”

  “Ah. Okay.”

  “Anyway, Mari likes boys, but doesn’t date them.”

  But she agreed to walk around with me tonight. Why would she do that, if she never goes out with guys? I chew on my lip. I’m into her, but is it worth it to spend a night with her at Lollapalooza, when I could be spending time with my brother, if it’s not going to lead anywhere? Not even making out or something?

  I shove my hands in my shorts pockets. Mari doesn’t date. This feels like when the Packers are playing the Patriots, and I know they’ll lose before the game even starts. “If she doesn’t date, then why do you think she’d suddenly start now, with me, the random guy she met in the Ryde?”

  “Seriously?” Sierra exclaims. “Did you see the way Mari was looking at you? She’s totally into you, even if she doesn’t know it… You’re interested in her, right?”

  I don’t even know her, but there is something there. Something more I’d love to explore, if I can, before I go home to Wisconsin and she leaves for Tennessee. Not sure if what I feel is physical or emotional or plain old excitement, or all three, but I do know I want to spend time with Mari tonight.

  Still, what’s the deal? Why doesn’t she like dating? Did some asshole hurt her? I feel a sudden urge to put on my boxing gloves and punch the bag at the gym.

  That’s when Mari comes back from the bathroom. I notice her lips are a brighter shade of red than before. She put on more makeup. That’s a good sign, right?

  “Ready?” I ask her.

  She sweeps her curly hair back away from her face, glances in my eyes, and nods. “Let’s take Sierra to find her friends first, and then we can go to Foo Fighters together.”

  After making sure Sierra finds her friends, Mari and I walk toward Tito’s stage. This time, I don’t make any attempts to take her hand or touch her. I don’t want to put any pressure on or suggest I expect something from her.

  Tyler would tell me to be cool and relaxed, so that’s what I try to do. I shake out my shoulders and tell myself we’re going to have a great time.

  We join an enormous, cheering audience. Strobe lights flash as people jump up and down, throw their hands in the air, and move their hips to the beat.

  I begin to clap and yell “Woooo!”

  Mari bounces on her toes, throws a fist up, and goes “Wooooo!” too.

  The excitement makes my body buzz with anticipation. I smile down at Mari. Our eyes meet and she swallows.

  A guitar screams out, making people go wild. Mari and I clap and cheer, our arms pressed against each other. She begins to dance, and it’s so sexy it makes my throat close up. This is it for me. This is how I die. The most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met murders me with a sway of her hips.

  She reaches for both my hands. “Dance with me!”

  My worst memory flashes before me. What if Mari rejects me like Lacey did?

  I run a hand through my hair, nervously ruffling it. “I’m a terrible dancer,” I say over the music.

  Her eyes scan me up and down. “Not possible. You’re so strong.”

  My face blushes. “Trust me, it’s a one hundred percent possibility. Actually, it’s probably more like a hundred and ten percent.”

  “Nobody is a terrible dancer. Dancing is just dancing. It’s unique to you.”

  “Then mine is uniquely terrible.”

  We laugh together, and there’s something soft in her eyes that makes me comfortable, that makes me trust her enough to let go. And with the music blasting in the sweltering summer heat, my thoughts go empty as my body takes over, with a mind of its own.

  For the first time in my life, I somehow know how to dance. It’s so easy and natural, I can’t not dance with her. One song after another, we dance and dance, and as the Foo Fighters go deeper into their set, our bodies inch closer and closer together.

  It’s crowded here, crushed among a thousand people. I move to stand behind Mari. I slip my hands around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder. “Is this okay?”

  She responds by leaning against my chest. We sway back and forth together, and as the sun is setting into oranges and pinks that I desperately want to paint, and the skylight eventually turns to a dark purple, I feel at home.

  Under the night sky, the bass thumps along with my heart. Mari dances in a circle, lost in her own beat. Her hips move in a sensual rhythm, giving me all sorts of naughty ideas. Desire builds under my skin.

  Summoning all my courage, I reach out to touch her waist, to pull her against my front, to meet her eyes. She tentatively touches my arm. Her fingers skim my skin, giving me goose bumps. I sigh, relieved she hasn’t pulled away, happy she’s still looking up at me.

  Our hands join, our fingers intertwine as if they are one. I can’t believe this is happening. Mari grins up at me, biting her lower lip. With a deep breath, I press my forehead to hers.

  My blood is on fire.

  I bring her hand to my mouth, to kiss her knuckles. Her skin is silk against my lips. I hold my breath, praying she doesn’t pull away. Instead she draws closer.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Hi.”

  My grin feels brighter than the moon. “I’m glad I met you.”

  She opens her mouth to speak, then closes it.

  Then our moment is lost: the band begins playing a fast song and people around us begin to dance and jump. Up and down, up and down. We find ourselves bouncing, too, and it’s kind of fun at first, but then people crowd forcefully against us, pinning us in place.

  A random guy slams into me, knocking me sideways and away from Mari. Our hands rip apart.

  People begin to shout as the crowd smashes together. A man shoves my side as a woman shoves my other arm.

  My body moves on its own accord, rushing to get out of here.

  Then my brain takes over. I can’t run away. Mari’s here. Can’t leave her.

  People scatter. A girl falls to the dirt in front of me. A man trips over her legs. I stop to help the girl to her feet before the crowd crushes her. Where’s Mari? Where is she? I spin in a circle.

  Grown men knock women down, trying to find a path out. It’s a Lord of the Flies mosh pit.

  “T.J.!” Mari yells as she’s being jostled away, swallowed up by the crowd, hands reaching for me.

  I push through people, charging her way, but it’s like the crowd is multiplying out of thin air. Where are all these people coming from? They continue to bounce. Up, down, up, down.

  Suddenly I can’t lift my arms. I can’t move at all. Sweat beads on my forehead. I edge forward, completely pinned in place. Can’t move. Can’t move. My breathing races. Heart beats wildly. Who ever thought mosh pits were a good idea?

  I could die here. Crushed by strangers.

  I frantically look around for Mari. Search for curly dark hair and glasses. I see nothing.

  “Mari!” I shout.

  Nothing. I hear nothing but other people’s cheers.

  Why did I let Mari’s hand go? I thought I was strong. All that time in the gym didn’t help for shit when it really mattered. What kind of man am I?

  I continue to push through people in the direction Mari went, searching face by face, but still don’t see her. What feels like years later, the crowd begins to even out. I’m no longer trapped.

  I bend over, place my hands on my knees, and catch my breath. My heart races like I’ve been sprinting on a treadmill.

  With no sign of Mari, I don’t know what else to do. I decide to go to the Perry’s sign, where Tyler told me to meet him later.

  The crowd is still thick, so I zigzag around people, searching every face for her. Even moving at a rapid pace, it still takes several minutes before the large red and blue Perry’s sign comes into view.

  I text my brother: Please come to Perry’s sign

  Tyler: Be ri
ght there.

  While waiting for him, I lean over onto my knees and breathe.

  When Tyler arrives after what feels like a year later, he places a hand on my shoulder. “You okay, man?”

  “Ty, I lost Mari. She’s gone.”

  Tyler’s eyes sweep the mob of people behind me. “What do you mean she’s gone?”

  I grab at a tuft of my hair. “I lost her in the crowd. I’m worried she’s hurt. It was so crowded in this mosh pit and people fell. What if she got trampled?”

  Tyler shakes his phone. “Text her.”

  I stare down at my screen, knowing it can’t help me. “I never got her number.”

  “Do you think she’s okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I don’t know.

  Mari

  The crowd rips me from T.J.

  He reaches out for my arm, but he’s too far away.

  “T.J.!” I call. The roar of voices drowns my own.

  His mouth is moving, trying to tell me something. What’s he saying?

  A guy steps on my foot. Shit that hurts. I push him away from me.

  “Bitch,” he spits.

  Bouncing past, another man accidentally hits my side. I fall to the ground. The right side of my body screams in pain. My elbow burns. My knee is on fire.

  I try to stand, but people are crowded too close. I push against them, desperate to climb to my feet.

  “Help!” I shout, and a woman beside me and reaches down to help me up.

  As I lumber to a stand, my eyes blur. Did I hit my head? My glasses are lopsided on my face. I push them up my nose, making sure they aren’t bent.

  “Thank you,” I tell the woman, and she nods, then begins to dance and jump again. Being in a mosh pit is not fun at all. I need to get out of here.

  My knees are shaking. I can’t fall down again—I may not stand back up.

  Where’s T.J.? My eyes scan the crowd. How did I lose him? He was right here beside me. Holding me.

  “T.J.! T.J.”

  No response.

  With one foot after the other, with bodies pressed against me on all sides, I elbow my way out until the crowd begins to thin into small groups of people. I limp toward the vendors set up alongside the edge of the venue. I take a seat on a ledge behind a T-shirt booth. Lights from the city and concert softly illuminate this area, but it’s still dark. While this doesn’t feel totally safe, it’s better than getting squashed into the ground like a bug.