Circle

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I stood out like a sore thumb.  Everyone else was dressed similarly, like hippies and gypsies or whatever.  I was wearing ripped, black jeans and a spiky leather jacket.  At least it was vegan leather.

People stared as we walked past, underneath strings of white fairy lights strung back and forwards across the top of the courtyard, though I was the only one out of the six of us who noticed, it seemed.  At least there was no hostility, only curiosity.

Everyone seemed to know everyone, including my friends, and they introduced me to so many new people.  I didn't have a hope in hell of remembering everyone's names

Edgy and Kee went and got the first round, plus raspberry for Rae, who didn't like drinking.  She made for the perfect designated driver, they'd all laughed.

The band was set up against a brick wall, probably the side of the building next door, and ivy was growing all over it from the small garden at the back of the stage.

The band I'd seen at the markets were playing tonight, Kyra had told me.  Fae, they were called, and we decided to make it a night out.

They were as incredible as I'd remembered, even better after a few drinks, impossible to sit still as their wild tempo struck up, faster and faster, song after song.  I'd bought the second round, right before they'd started playing, and already, we'd done a full circle.  We were all feeling pretty intoxicated, and a crowd of dancers, including Kee and Rae, had gathered in front of the stage.

I felt giddy, though, I wasn't certain if it was the alcohol, or if the magic of the music had me captivated, like last time.  I was tapping my fingers on the table in time to the tempo, and I glanced at Kyra beside me as he touched my shoulder.

"Why don't you go join them?"  He wondered, nodding toward the girls, but I smiled at the ground and shook my head.

"I just like to listen," I told him.  I didn't tell him that there was no way in hell I'd dance in public, but he smiled with understanding, probably figuring it out himself.

"You cold?"  He wondered, putting his hand over my knee.

"No," I told him truthfully.  

I didn't want to admit that the goosebumps rising up on my exposed flesh had nothing to do with the slight chill, and even less to do with the music dancing with the chill through the air.  I didn't want to admit that it was him, his fingers as they trailed gently up my leg, tracing the denim, subconsciously fiddling with the frayed part at the knee.

I guess the music didn't help.

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