He didn’t expect to feel awkward around Lucy. But he did.
“Will you show me around?” David said.
“Are you dating Hilary?” Lucy said.
“Whoa,” David said, and reeled. “Where did that come from?
I mean, I used to date her.”
“I saw you with her at the market,” she said.
“Oh, uh… okay, well, I did talk to Hilary, but we are most definitely not dating.”
Lucy bit her lip and considered David as if he was lying.
Maybe he’d left some stuff out, but he wasn’t really lying. He gave her a reassuring smile. Lucy had really done her home-work. He didn’t know she was keeping tabs on him.
“Come on,” she said, then hooked her hand around his arm and pulled him off into the rest of the crowd. Her hand was light but firmly nestled into the crook of his elbow. As she pulled him past a cluster of Freaks, David felt a surge of anxiety. He looked back at the Loners fading from view. They were struggling to catch up, but Lucy was moving quickly. He suddenly felt out of control. Who was watching him now? Did he just bring Lucy into the line of fire?
“Actually,” David said, “we should stick by the guys in case—”
“They’ll catch us eventually,” she said.
Lucy placed her other hand on his arm too and pulled David away from Ritchie and the security detail. They came to a comedian who paced on a rectangle of six milk crates. A small crowd was gathered around him. The kid was painfully short and had a face like a bulldog. Given how he looked, being funny was his only option.
The comedian’s eyes lit up when he saw David.
“Uh-oh, look who it is,” he said. “Does anyone have any zit creme? I got some whiteheads I need to get rid of.” The crowd chuckled. David didn’t. He moved to leave, but Lucy tugged him back. She was giggling.
“Hey, what do you call it when two Loners stand together?” David looked up at the guy.
“I call it my future wife and… some loser.” More laughs. The comedian mouthed the words I love you to Lucy, and he got a cheap laugh out of the crowd.
“I’m just joking, David. No hard feelings, right? I’m glad you’re here. I got a stain on my boxer shorts. Got a second?” The crowd laughed hard at that one. David pushed out a strained smile. Lucy’s hand was shaking on his arm. David looked over to see that her face was red from trying to hold in her giggling. She couldn’t stop.
“Oh, come on,” Lucy said, tugging him away from the comedian. “It was a joke. You can’t take a joke?”
“Hey, if it’s funny, I’m the first one to laugh.”
“Ooh, I think he touched a nerve.”
“Pssh, are you kidding me? I love thinking about all the mornings I spent trying to scrub blood off of some kid I hate’s sleeve with a toothbrush.”
Lucy looked unsure as to how to respond. David meant it to be sarcastic, but it came out angry.
“That’s just not what I am anymore,” David said.
“David, do you ever relax?”
“What do you mean?”
“You never take a break. You’ve already done more for all of us than anyone could have expected you to. Take the night off, for crying out loud. Let Ritchie do the worrying, because he already is anyway.”
Lucy motioned behind David, and he turned to see Ritchie less than ten feet away. He was shadowing them, and he knew he was busted. Ritchie strode up to them.
“So… hey, what are you guys up to?” Lucy arched her eyebrow at Ritchie.
“You know what? Never mind. Pretend I’m not here,” Ritchie said, backing away.
When Ritchie was finally gone, Lucy squeezed David’s hand.
“So, do we have a deal or what?”
“A deal?”
“Are you going to just enjoy yourself tonight? The world’s not going to end if you have a little fun.” David took in the auditorium. He didn’t see one person who was having a bad time. If kids could mingle across gang lines here, why didn’t they all the time? He wondered if the school could ever be like this every day.
“All right,” he said. He turned to her. “Deal.” Lucy jumped and clapped her hands. She pulled him over to a concession stand that served juice. To compensate for their smaller claims on the quad, Varsity had started selling what was once reserved only for their own drop parties: their homemade apple juice hooch.
“Two cups, please.”
Lucy slid two tickets across the table, and the Geek at the stand served up two tin cans full.
Lucy raised her can up to David’s.
“To a great night,” she said.
“You drink?” David said.
“Not really, but if I’m asking you to cut loose, well, I guess I can’t be a hypocrite.”
David liked that. He raised his tin can.
“To a great night,” he said, and they each took a swig. It burned going down.
“WHOOF!” Lucy yelped. She had to cover her mouth to force herself to swallow. She fluttered her fingers and did a little dance to help it go down. She finally managed and crumbled
into David. “What is in that stuff?”
“Good old-fashioned moonshine, mixed with apple juice.”
“Moonshine? Is Huckleberry Finn in Varsity?” David laughed.
“Yeah, moonshine. Anthony Smith used to bring it on the bus to celebrate after we won away games. It’s just sugar and yeast, and you distill it, I think. If Varsity can do it, it must be easy.”
“You mean, it’s sugar, yeast, and fire. I can’t feel my throat.”
“Me neither. That means it’s working,” David said, and took another swig.
The juice made him buoyant. Anxiety slipped away. David reached out to take Lucy’s arm, but somehow they ended up hugging. She felt so good in his arms. He didn’t want to let go.
The night became a dazzling blur. The colors, the sparklers, the flames. David held close to Lucy. Her laugh was fast and childlike. She had one pointy tooth that only showed when she smiled all the way. Her fingers would graze the inside of his wrist. They shared more juice. Wandering performers interacted with the crowd in spontaneous dramatic scenes.
At a game booth run by art Geeks, kids could pay one ticket to take whacks at papier-mache sculptures of soldiers in haz-mat suits. David demolished one as Lucy cheered. They stumbled from spontaneous sing-alongs to dance perfor-mances to poetry slams. One Geek took his clothes off and streaked through the auditorium. The music thumped.
The houselights flashed, signaling everyone to their seats.
David and Lucy were ushered to the best seats in the place, a gift from Zachary. As they settled in and the lights went down, Lucy slid her fingers between his. The curtain parted, and the stage lit up. Zachary took the stage to begin the school’s most popular ongoing play, Sunday Morning.
David was surprised to discover that Zachary was a fine actor. His grandiose personal flourishes didn’t exist onstage.
He was completely in character. He was Paul, a normal kid from the suburbs, on a lazy Sunday morning. Paul went to the grocery store; he read a book; he walked his dog. David understood why McKinley students never tired of dipping into Paul’s world. It was a world with no threats, no danger, nothing but real-world leisure and everyday chores, the things that they ached to be bored by again.
He let himself be carried away by the delicate world onstage.
Paul was David. David was Paul. And nothing mattered anymore. He wasn’t in McKinley. He was in Paul’s living room, then in Paul’s backyard, under the open sky.
“Lucy,” David whispered.
“Yes, David,” Lucy said, her head on his shoulder.
“Is there anything between you and Will?” Her head lifted up.
“I… Will is just a friend,” she said.
While David could still feel the breeze of Paul’s world on his face, he leaned over and gave Lucy a soft, slow kiss.
Will wanted to vomit. He watched David kiss Lucy. His lips against her lips. His tongue digging into her mouth. Her hand was on her chest, covering the necklace Will gave her. He hated the look on Lucy’s face; she was in heaven.
Her eyes were closed, and she coiled her arms around David’s body. David held her face in his hands.