The Senior Trip

Chapter 34

Asher

I thought the shower was torture, but watching her make her way through this crowd to find me might be worse. She's beautiful, but has no idea the attention she gets. Her smile grows when her eyes find mine and she raises two cold beers above her in victory.

"Look what I found," she says. I pull the chair beside me out and motion for her to sit. I've already scored her a plate of food and I know she has to be as hungry as I am. I don't miss the way a few men look away when they discover we're together and somehow that makes my chest feel bigger even though she isn't really mine. I guess for today she is. For this small moment in time at this party where we don't speak the language, Harper is mine.

"I didn't know what kind of taco you'd want," I begin.

"All of them," she answers. Her eyes grow wide as she takes in her plate.

"That's exactly what I thought," I say as I take one of the cold beers from her hand. Her shoulder is red and I touch the chilled bottle to it for a moment.

"That feels great," she says. She tips her head to the side, allowing me to roll the bottom of the bottle along her skin.

"It helps with the ache. Let's eat," I tell her. I take a long gulp from my beer and listen as the band begins to play another song. This—this is the experience tourists would pay thousands for. You don't get any more authentic than this moment. I'm not even sure what we're celebrating, but I'm totally here for it.

The tacos are amazing. We eat in silence, watching the guests dance and greet each other. No one seems to care that we don't belong. I can't imagine a more perfect afternoon. Her leg is pressed against mine at the small table and while I could move over, I don't want to. I love the feel of her against me. With my tacos finished, I rest my arm behind her along the back of her chair and once again bring my beer to my lips to finish it before it gets too warm.

"Oh, my God," she whispers.

"What?"

"It's a reception." Harper shoves the last bit of her taco into her mouth and I can't help but smile at her choice to shove instead of setting it aside. She says something else but I can't make out the words around the food so I just shrug and take another swig.

The music switches quickly and guests around us start to stand up. Harper reaches for my hand and tugs me from my seat. We watch as a woman in a big white dress makes her way through the crowd, her new husband at her side. Everyone goes wild, clapping and cheering, the energy electric in a way that makes it impossible not to join in.

"We shouldn't be here," Harper says, but she's smiling and standing on her toes to see above the people in front of us.

When everyone takes a seat, we do the same, but our attention remains on the couple who are now in the center of the yard on the make-shift dance floor. The music begins again, something slow and even though I've never heard it before and it isn't being sung in our language, we know it's a love song. Harper looks at me, her eyes bright and excited. She mouths, "Awww."

I watch as the man takes his new bride in his arms. It's only in this moment that I remember Jess. I remember that I imagined a dance like this with her. Maybe not a wedding dance—but at least one more slow dance. One more time to hold her before she shattered my heart. This couple before us is so in love it's hard not to see it in the way he touches her face, or the way she lays her head on his shoulder as he spins her around. They don't care about any of us, they just want to be together.

"You look like you could use another beer," Harper says. She slips from her seat and disappears in the crowd. My eyes and attention go back to the couple. I wonder where Jess is. Who she's with. If she even knows I'm gone. I wait for that familiar ache to take hold in my chest, to once again remind me what I've lost. Instead, I feel a cold, icy bottle brush against my shirt.

"It's good for the ache," Harper says as she takes her seat beside me, her own beer in hand. She doesn't look at me though, her eyes stay trained on the bottle she's rolling against my chest, carefully holding it right above my heart. Her wet hair falls into her face, blocking my view of her eyes and my fingers trace her forehead, tucking the wayward strand back behind her ear.

I'm not even sure what happens next. The crowd around us are cheering and motioning for us to stand.

"What are they saying?" Harper asks.

Our drinks are taken from our hands as a few of the older woman at our table smile and guide us out to the dance floor.

"They are telling us to dance," I answer.

"But that's crazy! It's their first dance," Harper whisper-shouts to me.

A hand on my back pushes me into Harper, and another joins our hands together. The bride and groom are smiling, gesturing for us to join and I have no idea why everyone thinks we're newlyweds, but I don't have the vocabulary to explain that we aren't.

Other couples make their way to the dance floor and soon we are surrounded by young lovers and older couples. I let my hand find the small of Harper's back and pull her into me. Her arm moves up cautiously, her eyes scanning the crowd in disbelief.

"Just go with it, Harper," I whisper. The ache I'd been waiting for is long forgotten as her finger-tips brush against my neck.

I can't take my eyes off her face. The music plays as I move her around, holding her hand in mine and keeping her close as the crowded dance floor leaves little space for any distancing. Maybe it's the rush of this moment or the emotional rollercoaster of the last few days, but something makes it impossible for me not to brush my cheek against hers. I feel her release a breath, the warm air rushing past my neck as she leans into me. The music surrounding us as I run my nose along her cheek until our foreheads are resting together.

I remember this feeling, the sensation of falling and flying all at once. It's been a while since I've felt it, but I'm relieved to know it's still possible. When her fingers move up my neck, I pull back, knowing in the span of a few seconds and the space of just a few inches, everything is about to change. Then I let go of her hand, touch the side of her face, and while I might not know where we are or how exactly we got here, I know I have to kiss her.