Scandal - Jay Mirano (read book txt) 📗

his side, head propped up on his elbow looking like a cat that got the cream.

I'll admit, dancing around a bonfire like a witch casting a spell is pretty damn fun. A few times I had to double-over from the laughter, with Sahara tugging me back to my feet and around the circle again. Even though most of the school were watching us like we were idiots, I was having an amazing time.

Eventually Sahara tired, and I followed her over to Craig's pick-up, its tray filled up with half-melted ice and pale ale. Sahara retrieved two, wiping her hand against her shorts as she handed me mine.

It was sour, and bitter, and definitely not my taste, but it quenched my thirst and warmed me against the pre-autumn chill. Besides, I've heard if you hold your breath you can't taste it as much when it's going down. Worth a try, I guess.

Sahara had her bitch face on. She wore this face when she was about to shoot a snarky remark back at someone, or when she was feeling particularly mischevious. I had a feeling tonight as going to be a night for mischief.

"I feel like burning something," she said, grinning like a mad woman. 

"Burning something?!"

"We're at a bonfire, after all. Why shouldn't be burn something?"

She had a point. But that look on her face told me she wanted to burn something of someone's. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

She started tracing the toe of her Doc Martin boot in the dirt, around and around. She was biting her lip, looking every bit the girl up to something.

Then she stopped, standing still as stone. When I opened my mouth she put a finger up to shush me. "You hear that?"

I strained, sifting through the regular noises of the woods at night; an owl hoot, wind rustling through leaves, the sound of some small creature digging through the underbrush. And there, soft at first, but still there. Laughter. Very distinct laughter.

It was coming from just ahead of us, from a grove of far-reaching pines bent with age. Sahara cocked an eyebrow at me, before hunching her shoulders like some kind of spy and tip-toeing towards them.

I sighed, looking back at the bonfire burning not 10 yards away. As much as I wanted to behave (believe me, I was a goody two-shoes once), the urge to get into trouble was too strong. And Sahara was wildly beckoning me from the bushes, one hand clamped over her mouth to stop from laughing.

I snuck over to her, doing the legit Pink Panker sneak. That only made Sahara want to laugh more, and she had to slap the other hand over her mouth and put her face between her knees. By the time I got over her face was bright red, her mascara starting to smear at the corner of her eyes where she'd almost started crying from it.

She took one hand away long enough to point over her shoulder, before doubling over laughing again. It was dark, but the moon was bright enough to illuminate two figures doing some seriously non-PG things. And just to Sahara's side were two piles of clothing.

It didn't take a mind-reader to figure out what Sahara was thinking. Before I could stop her, she'd grabbed the poor guy's jeans and was hightailing it back to the bonfire. By the time we got back, both in hysterics, most of the people around the fire had stopped to watch.

Sahara held the jeans high above her head like they were some kind of trophy, popping her hip out and pacing in front of the fire. A few excited murmurs burst through the silence, egging Sahara on.

"If anyone would like to claim this abomination to denim, now's your chance!" Sahara said, letting the jeans' legs flap in the wind. She cupped a hand around her ear for dramatic emphasis. "No one? Really, no one? Well. Not that I'm surprised. If I owned these jeans I'd want to see them burn, too."

A soft chant started to erupt from the crowd, the first few words swallowed by the breeze, until more people join in. "Burn them, burn them, burn them!"

The audience was absolutely ecsastic, and their chant rang around the clearing like a victory call. Hell, you'd think we'd just won the Superbowl or something.

Sahara turned to me, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I just do what the fans say," he said, before flinging the jeans onto the bonfire.

They landed on the edge, on a barely smouldering patch. But still, thick smoke swiftly started to rise from the jeans' edges, mingling with the lighter smoke above.

The crowed cheered, interspersed with catcalls and whistles. Sahara bowed over-dramatically, before coming over to stand with me.

"I feel better now," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched the jeans start to smoulder. "I swear it's an addiction or something."

"I wouldn't be surprised," I said, surveying the quickly dispersing crowd. "Hey, have you seen Evan? I haven't seen him since you came over to get me."

Sahara shrugged. "Nope. He's probably smoking up in the woods. I know that's where Jesse is right now."

"Yeah, you're probably right," I said, making my way back over to Craig's truck to get some more beers. Sahara was going on and on about something, something about how her sister had dropped her MAC blush and how the powder had gotten all smashed up. She was making wild hand gestures, her voice getting more and more shrill, but I wasn't paying attention. I wasn't paying attention because I'd seen a commotion in the corner of my eye, what looked like a head bobbing behind a tree. Not just any head. Evan.

"Is that..." I trailed off, because I'd gotten a glimpse of leg. Bare leg.

"Holy shit," Sahara breathed, her beer can slipping from her hand and fizzing up all over her Docs.

Evan must have seen us staring, because he hobbled over to us, his hands protectively shielding his crotch. I guess he'd decided to go commando tonight.

"What happened to your pants?" I asked, barely able to conceal the rising tone of my voice.

"Some asshole stole them! I swear these kids are animals."

"Why were they off in the first place?"

"I was uh... I was taking a piss."

"And you need to take your pants completely off to take a piss?" Sahara joined in. "Wow, you must have really shitty aim."

Evan glared at Sahara, and she glared right back at him. They'd never really warmed to eachother, and now they weren't even trying to hide it anymore.

"That's funny because, as it so happens, Sahara and I stole a pair of jeans not long ago," I was fighting to keep from crying, and my voice came out cracked and strained. "We saw this couple going at it in the woods, and figured it'd be funny to throw the guy's pants on the bonfire."

Evan's face blanched. He looked between me and Sahara, his mouth dropping open, before hobbling off towards the bonfire at full speed. A few people sniggered as he went by, pointing at his naked ass bobbing as he ran.

In that moment I felt time stop. I could hear Coldplay's Paradise playing on the speakers, ringing in my ears. I saw a beetle skitter across the dirt by my feet, pausing to inspect a flower's stem before hurrying along. I felt the wind on my face, stirring the hem of my baggy shirt. I felt the thrum of my headbeat pounding in my ears, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. I felt it all in that single moment whe time stopped.

I felt a tear break free watching Evan trying to fish his charred jeans out of the fire, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. No one was going to see me cry over Evan Winters. Especially not Evan Winters himself.

He shimmied into his jeans, hopping on foot to foot as they cooled against his skin. When he noticed Sahara and I were still shooting poison arrows at him, he sheepishly came back over.

"Look, it's not what you think," he started, running his hands through his hair. "It was, uh..."

"Shut it, Evan," I pressed my lips tightly together to stop myself screaming. "It's over. Fuck off."

Evan rocked backwards as if he'd actually been hit. Believe me, my hand was itching to slap the smug off his face. "Wow, really?"

"Really."

"No, I mean really as in you're breaking up with me? You. Breaking up with me," he shook his head, chuckling to himself. "Unfuckingbelievable."

"Excuse me?" Sahara's voice was shrill. "Tali is way more amazing than you could ever hope to be."

"Tali is trash," he spat back. "Tali was an easy lay. Tali was a loser before you made her your pet, and you know it."

Those pesky tears were threatening again, but I bit them back. "Evan, please..."

It didn't matter that I was choking on the rest of my sentence, because Sahara lunged forward in place of my words and thrust Evan backward. Hard. He fell to the ground like a house of cards, sending up a plume of dirt as his body hit the earthen floor. He hit the ground so hard you could hear his teeth clack in his skull.

"You stay away from Tali," she growled. "Or you'll regret it."

Before Evan could respond, Sahara was ferrying me away from the scene, her arms draped heavily across my shoulders. She steered me towards her Jeep, depositing me in the passenger seat before jumping in beside me. I felt catatonic. I felt sick. I felt defeated. I barely even felt like living. Sahara sped through the night like a woman on a mission, but I just wanted to curl up and die.

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Publication Date: 07-21-2013

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