The Midnight Boys

Chapter 7

Thirty minutes later, after brushing on mascara and changing into jeans and a pink crop top, I was riding in the backseat of Owen's Ford pickup. A song that could only be described as twangy blared through the speakers, mocking me with lyrics about dirt roads, jacked-up trucks, and small town living. Sophia sat shotgun with her feet propped on the dash, cherry toenail polish on full display. She had the window rolled down and a warm, summertime breeze played with her hair as she hummed along to the tune.

I poked my tongue against my cheek and inhaled a long breath, trying to stay calm. When had my life turn into a country song cliche?

"So Evelyn," Owen said, glancing at me in the rear view mirror. One of his hands causally gripped the steering wheel, while the other traced a pattern across his girlfriend's thigh. "Meet anyone from Coldwater besides us and Briella?"

There was Fletcher, obviously, but I wasn't going to bring him up. He seemed to be a touchy subject for Sophia. "Yeah, a few of Briella's friends," I told him. "Turtle, Henry, and Zuke."

"Oh, right." Owen bobbed his head as if my answer was a no brainer. "The midnight boys."

"The who?" I asked with a frown.

"Midnight boys," Sophia clarified. "It's my nickname for them. You know, because they're the kind of guys who stay out all night and sleep the day away? My mom calls them troublemakers and punks, but midnight sounds so much more romantic, don't you think?"

Romantic? The hell is she smoking?

I thumbed my ear. "Ah, yeah... I guess so."

Owen let out a laugh, almost as if he knew what I was thinking and agreed with me. Thankfully, he switched subjects. "Sophia says that you've already graduated? Where're you going this fall?"

College was a far cry from my favorite conversation topic, but I was grateful for the change. "UW-Madison."

"Wow, that's awesome!" he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm starting my final year at UW-Whitewater. I wanted to be a badger, but I didn't have the grades to get in."

Wait, Owen was already a senior in college? "How old are you?" I asked.

"Just turned twenty-one," he stated proudly. I raised a brow at the age difference between him and Sophia, but didn't comment. Who was I to judge? "That's why we left for the party so early. I'm in charge of bringing beer, so we're making a keg run."

To where? The South Pole? We'd been driving for over half an hour.

As if sensing my confusing, Sophia offered me an answer. "My cousin owns a store in the next town over. He'll give us a discount."

The next "town" over turned out to be smaller than Coldwater. I didn't understand how anywhere with less than a dozen houses, a one pump gas station that doubled as a grocery store, and a church the size of a gazebo could be called a town, but clearly things were different in the countryside. Sophia chatted with her cousin as Owen loaded three kegs and a crate of what looked like moonshine into the bed of his truck before we finally left for the party that I didn't want to attend in the first place.

It was nearly eight o'clock when we pulled up alongside a freshly painted, bright red barn. On one side of the building was an endless cornfield. On the other, the edge of a forest. With the exception of a small house about two hundred yards away, there wasn't a single building on the horizon.

When Owen mentioned a party, I'd envisioned a kegger in someone's basement or yard, not some backwater farm. The sheer amount of green was overwhelming considering I was used to apartment buildings, strip malls, and blacktop. No sooner had I climbed out of the truck than a mosquito started humming in my ear. Fucking nature, I thought, swatting it away. Hopefully this party would be lame and Owen would want to leave early.