Page 18 of Dirty Tricks

“AFrankenstini.”

An apple martini. Or just apple juice with foam and crushed ice for the innocent version.

“Two coming up.”

When I jump down from my stool, Lexa does the same. “And where exactly do you think you’re going?”

“To the little girls’ room.” She bats her eyes. “And I’m gonna see if I can spot Jenna and Vonnie. They must think I abandoned them.”

“Just blame me.” I lift her over my shoulder while she giggles, traipsing through the crowd to deposit her at the entrance to the bathrooms. “Say a sexy stranger kidnapped you and refused to let you go until you tried all the mixes on the menu.”

She plants her hands on her hips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to get me drunk.”

“On apple juice.”

“Where else does cider come from?”

The answer cracks me up and she patiently waits until I laugh myself out. I’m in such a state of euphoria that my laughter comes far too easily. “That’s like comparing vodka to fries.”

I wait until she’s disappeared inside the room, then hustle to the bartender and order the next round. When I get back to our table, two other students have claimed our chairs, but a well-timed growl has them deciding another room might be less bother.

This time, I turn my stool upside down on hers for better protection, then make my way back to the corridor to collect her.

“My own personal chariot,” she says, linking her arms around my neck and leaning into me as I scoop her into my arms.

The soft breaths against my neck are heavenly. Another memory gets crammed into the vault. I never want this night to end.

“Oh, no,” she murmurs as we arrive back in the pumpkin carving room to find the table occupied and the drinks gone, my simple trick nullified. “We’ll have to dance the night away instead.”

The activity has never appealed to me before but suddenly, I can’t imagine anything more satisfying than spinning around to music with this lovely lady in my arms. “Lead the way.”

Lexa takes a step back and squints at me. “Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

Knocked him out with chloroform and left him slumped in his bathroom is the actual answer, but honesty is well overrated.

“It’s your night. Whatever you want to do, we’re doing.”

I’m probably pushing my luck. Her suspicion ebbs and flows and with each un-Finn-like characteristic, she’ll doubt me more until the game comes to a grinding halt.

But there won’t be another opportunity like this one. Better I do everything I can to make the night special, store up memories to treasure, than erase the joy by pretending to be a godawful douchebag only interested in himself.

“Fair warning,” I add. “It’s been a while so you might have a crap dance partner leading you around the floor. Get set for some top level embarrassment.”

“Pfft.” She wrinkles her nose as she scoffs. “It’s notStrictly. No one’s judging.”

I glance around, seeing scores of teens doing exactly that in a hundred different ways, but I shrug. What do I care if she doesn’t mind? It’ll be Finn’s problem at school on Monday, not mine. “Okay, then.”

“Inside or out?”

I don’t understand what she means until we reach the dance floor and I see it continues through concertinaed doors into a flat hard-packed clay circle outside.

“Definitely out.” I take a firm grip on her hand, scared to lose her. I use my shoulders to clear a wide path, snapping, “Watch it,” when a boy gets too close.

Then we’re outside. I can breathe easier free of the crowd and the stifling air.

“You’re not too cold?” I check as she shivers but Lexa shoots another satisfied grin my way.

“You’ll have to keep me warm.”

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