One More Time (Bremmy 1)

Chapterish 82

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TENFIRE

Tenfire is tonight. It seems like that's almost all this sad town does. Have bonfires. Well, that and drink. At least tonight is the TENFIRE.

I walk to my rideshare, cursing myself under my breath all the while. Trix follows close behind me, struggling in her wedges again. I think they're the same ones as last time. Not much has changed.

"Wait, why aren't we walking again?" I ask.

"Because," Trix whines, "I'm not trying to park a car and then have to drive it back later."

"Coulda walked... like we always do." I roll my eyes.

"It's shitty out," Trix says, shrugging.

Not untrue. I do have the ambiguous rainy day blues. At least I didn't try on 18 outfits today. Nope, just 2.

First I had on daisy duke wannabes again, meant to show off my tan legs. Which, damn. Loosey goosey knit sweater low key see through, meant to show off my bra and tits. Make up face. Hoop earrings. The whole nine yards.

Then I looked in the mirror. I saw myself through its eyes. Changed to boyfriend jeans with tears down the legs, a gray pullover hoodie with some faded logo and Sperry's. Left my hair down, meant to cover my face and by default my sadness too.

I got this.

Last night wasn't so bad. It was pleasant even. Sure, Brooks "met someone" but he didn't bring her here. He asked me if I would be at Tenfire. He. Asked. Me. Please, allow me to over analyze what this must mean.

"You're beautiful, boo." Trix says from the seat next to me.

The car window is a blur of colored lights behind her. The red and green traffic lights blending with the white and yellow streetlamps in the rain.

"You too, boo." I smile.

At least I'll always have Trix.

I walk onto the beach, my feet sinking in the sand with each step I take. The tide's going out. Faint smells of seaweed and wet driftwood reach me on the breeze. The rain is lingering in the air. It could be bottled into a perfume or candle. Focus.

Trix's hair sways in front of me, lighting my path like a flickering flame. Side-to-side it moves, like light dancing over shadows. I've never seen her look so graceful, really like a fluid mermaid gliding on land. I'm reminded of the last time I saw her on the beach at a bonfire –the way she tripped over her own heels in the sand.

She looks at me and asks a silent question. Ready?

I trudge on.

We round the last sand dune and I can tell from the chorus of voices and laughing and music that we are the last ones here. The party has already started. I can't help but let my eyes skim the crowd –searching for a familiar face. Trix is at my side now. Solidarity. Moral support. Whatever you want to call it.

It will be OK. I will be OK. Brooks was charming. He asked if I was going to be here!

Travis hands us both a cup. I bring it to my lips but can already taste the sour cherry before I even sip it. I smile to myself. Oh, the memories.

"Hey, pace yourself," Travis says, half scolding-half laughing at me when I hand out my cup for a refill.

"Let her live," Trix snaps. Travis rolls his eyes. They glint just like his brow ring.

"Let me live," I mimic her voice, smacking my lips together. "Before this shit kills me."

She laughs.

"Hey, guys. Just get here?" Nate comes up to the keg. He stops next to the stereo flashing with neon lights.

"Yup just now." I nod.

My eyes scan the crowd again, peering into the shadows on the beach where the bonfire's light can't reach.

"Em? EM!" Meg has been calling my name.

"Hey, girl." I say, hugging her.

"Geez, where's your head at? Nate was just asking if we should do a match tomorrow..." Meg trails off, biting her lip. I notice.

In the second my eyes wander over her head I see him.

His perfect self set against the ocean: His long hair tied back and falling out around his face, tan skin for days, his head tilted back in laughter, his eyes sparkling with life...

OK, not so bad, I think.

Keep breathing you dramatic fuckstick.

Keep calm and drink on.

And then more people join his spot on the beach. Someone hands him a drink. They're all laughing. Then his hand wraps around the waist of a thin blonde girl who isn't me.

"I am so sorry, Emmy." Travis's voice sounds far away. I can hear him –I can tell it's him –but his words are lost to me.

"Emmy," Trix whispers too. I can feel her grabbing my arm.

My heart drops into my stomach. No, to the floor, buried beneath miles of sand. I can smell him from here. I can taste his skin on my lips just by looking at him. In the fraction of a second when he tilts his head forward I think he sees me. I look away and suddenly drain my cup again.