Song of the Fireflies

Chapter Eleven

Bray

It would seem that it was too early for Elias and me to stop being afraid and on edge about what happened. I admit it. But really what we were doing was looking for any way out of that mind-set, because if we didn’t, it would’ve killed us. We just wanted to live life. And, well, it’s easy to forget about the significant things when you find other things to cover it up. Partying quickly became our means of salvation, the way out that we longed for. We learned fast how to replace misery and fear with happiness and enjoyment, and with drugs and alcohol. We couldn’t afford much ourselves, and the last thing we wanted to do was waste what little money we did have on shit like that, but we got by with freebies usually. A joint passed around a room. A group of partygoers already lit on alcohol, offering to buy the table the next round. And occasionally guys would buy me drinks when they thought I was alone.

Our first night hitting the bars and nightclubs in Florida was the first domino to fall in a swirling maze of hundreds of dominoes.

And every fucking one of them would later prove to be a bigger mistake than the last.

“Hey, that’s our song!” I said over the music bumping through the speakers inside the club.

I grabbed Elias by the wrist and tugged. He slid down from the bar stool and hit the dance floor with me. He had always been a hot dancer, and it helped that he had the body for it. But usually, it took a few drinks for him to loosen up enough to dance in public. He wasn’t afraid of it; he just never cared for it much.

Even that started to change with our new lifestyle.

“Since when did this become our song?” he shouted over the music.

I danced my way around, putting my back to him, raising my arms up and around both sides of his neck.

He ground his hips against me from behind, his fingers splayed against my thighs.

“Since that time at Matt’s party, remember?”

The beat picked up, and his grinding hips moved with it flawlessly. I about fucking died. The boy could dance.

I danced back around, facing him again, moving my upper body in a lithe, swaying motion against his.

“Oh yeah, I remember that night,” he said, leaning toward my ear. “But if I recall, after we danced to it in front of everyone, you left with Dane Weatherby.”

“Dane was just a friend,” I countered. And he was just a friend. “I was his shoulder to cry on that night. Nothing more. But you and me, we had the whole room. We owned it!”

Elias grinned and fit my hips in the palms of his hands, his long fingers spread like claws as he grinded against me some more.

He was so getting laid tonight.

“I guess we did, huh?” he said with a grin.

Suddenly Elias snatched me forward, his arm around my waist, and pulled me out of the path of a tipsy couple barreling through the crowd.

“Oh, sorry about that, man!” the guy said.

He was as tall as a tree and had short brown hair buzzed around the back. He grabbed hold of a strawberry-blonde woman’s elbow to keep her from falling over. She laughed and fell into his arms on purpose. Her huge boobs bulged into view from the force of his arm, which he held across her chest.

“I think I’ve had too much,” she said, raising her wine cooler out in front of her and then happily taking another drink.

The guy apologized again. And again. I wondered if he was just too drunk to remember he had already gotten that much out of the way.

“It’s all right,” Elias said, still holding me around the waist. “No harm done.”

We started to walk away from the dance floor and back toward the bar, but we only got halfway before the couple came up behind us.

“I’ve never seen you in here before,” the guy said.

“You must come here a lot, then,” I said, still being pulled along by my fingers. “To remember every face in a place this populated.”

A small part of me was worried he’d seen my face on a Most Wanted poster somewhere. But it was just the paranoia kicking in.

“We’re here every weekend,” the girl said.

She never stopped smiling. Neither of them did. They wore permanent, drunken smiles.

We finally made it back to the bar. Elias put his hands on my hips and lifted me onto the stool. He then sat on the empty stool next to me.

“I’m Anthony,” the guy introduced himself. “And this is Cristina.” He smelled of musk cologne.

I started to show them the same courtesy, but Elias jumped in a second before. “I’m John and this is my fiancée, Julia.”

Fiancée? That certainly got my attention. So much so that I had already forgotten the fake name he gave me.

“You live around here?” Anthony probed. He leaned against the bar next to an empty bar stool rather than sit. Cristina, who I assumed was his girlfriend, continued to use him as her makeshift crutch.

“No, we’re from—”

“—Indiana,” Elias jumped in.

I narrowed my eyes at him secretly from the side.

He softened his baby-blues, as if to say, Sorry, babe.

Instant forgiveness. He was in the right, though, because I had been about to say Georgia, just as I had been a second away from telling them our real names.

I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to this covert lifestyle of lies and highways and shitty motel rooms. But Elias was with me, and that made it all OK.

“How long will you be in town for?” Anthony asked.

“A day or two,” Elias said. “Then we’ll be heading back home.”

As Anthony helped Cristina onto the bar stool, his hands pushed underneath the fabric of her short flowered skirt. I noticed he wore hemp bracelets like mine, five or six thick ones wrapped around his left wrist. I wore them on both. Probably for different reasons.

Cristina called for the bartender, and he came over.

“Are you staying close by?” Anthony asked. He put up his hand and added, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Why are you asking anyway?” Elias was wary of this guy, but just like me, it was only the paranoia.

Anthony smiled and paid for Cristina’s drink. “I own a beach house not far from here. We’re always trolling the clubs lookin’ to find people to invite. You’re welcome to come.”

Cristina almost fell off the bar stool and her drink thumped over onto its side. She fumbled the bottle back into an upright position. Clearly she didn’t need any more to drink.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Anthony said, reading my mind.

She whined when he took the bottle from her.

“Not in the mood to clean up after her tonight,” Anthony said, still with a big smile plastered on his face.

“Hey!” Cristina shot back, feigning offense and reaching out for the bottle. “Don’t be an ass!” She laughed.

Anthony ignored her and turned back to us. “So, are you up for it?”

“I don’t think so,” Elias said. “But thanks.”

“All right, but if you change your mind, I’ll be around here for another hour or so.”

“Thanks, man,” Elias said with a nod.

Anthony helped Cristina down from the bar stool and walked her on her wobbly legs through a small crowd, and they disappeared amid the throng of people.

“Maybe we should’ve gone,” I said over the music. “The guy owns a beach house. We could probably crash there for a few nights. He seems pretty cool.”

Elias held up two fingers and the bartender came over. He ordered a beer and one for me. “I don’t know, maybe,” he said.

I could tell he thought it wasn’t such a bad idea, considering we had begun thinking about staying put somewhere for a while to save money.

We drank a couple more beers and danced some more before we decided to head back to our motel. The more buzzed Elias got, the more he wanted to take me somewhere and strip off my clothes. But he stopped before he got so buzzed that he wouldn’t be able to drive us back.

We gave up the idea of joining Anthony and Cristina and never went looking for them. But we found them anyway, by accident, lingering outside the nightclub in the parking lot.

“Hello again! John and Julia, right?” Anthony said, walking toward us.

Oh, that was the fake name I couldn’t remember.

We met him halfway. Cristina was sitting down on the blacktop with her back and head pressed against the side of a car tire. I could see straight up her skirt; she was too drunk to notice she was on display to anyone who happened to walk by. Both of her knees were drawn up against her chest.

“Hey, man,” Elias said with a half smile. “We thought you had already left.”

“Yeah, well, that was our intention,” Anthony said. “But I lost my damn car keys.”

“No shit?” Elias said.

“Maybe someone turned them in inside,” I said, looking back at the club briefly.

“Already checked. I had a guy out here about ten minutes ago with a wire hanger, but we couldn’t get it unlocked. Looks like I’ll be calling either a locksmith or a cab.”

Elias looked over at me. I knew what he was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing.

“Well, we could give you a ride back to your place,” Elias offered.

I smiled at them both, glad to see that things with this whole beach house idea were starting to go my way.

“Help me up,” Cristina whined, reaching out her hand.

I went over and helped her up instead, regretting it a little once I realized how heavy she actually was as she leaned against my shoulder.

“Nah, man, thanks but I don’t want to put you out,” Anthony said.

“We don’t mind,” Elias countered. “We’re staying in a motel nearby and we’re not in too much of a hurry to go back there.”

“Well, you two can crash at my place tonight if you want,” Anthony offered.

Elias thought about it for a moment and glanced over at me again, wondering how I felt about all of this.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said and gripped Cristina around her waist.

I wished Anthony would take over. I didn’t sign up for this. Or maybe I did, in a way…

“Then I guess it’s settled,” Anthony said as if he were making an announcement, both arms raised out at his sides. “Where’s your car?”

“End of this row,” Elias said.

Anthony finally noticed the struggle on my face and relieved me of drunken-Cristina duty. They followed us to Elias’s car, parked at the very end of the lot.

“I just thought of something,” Elias said after opening his door and pressing the master lock on the inside. “We’re only paid up in our room until tomorrow. Somehow I doubt we’ll be awake before checkout.”

“Just swing by and get your stuff then,” Anthony suggested. “As long as you don’t need a U-Haul to move it, you can keep it at my place.”

Elias laughed. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. “It’ll all fit in my trunk.”

We left the club parking lot and rode back to the motel first, which was on the way to Anthony’s beach house. Since our new guests were going to be riding in the backseat, we stuffed our bags with everything we owned in the trunk. I made it a point to stash my purse back there, too, just in case either of them were the type to help themselves to my belongings.

Cristina was seconds away from passing out next to Anthony. He guided Elias back onto the main highway and we rode for quite a while, longer than I had expected since Anthony had mentioned before that the beach house wasn’t far from the club. And he didn’t talk as much after about ten minutes. The highway became darker and less traveled as it got later.

I started getting nervous, though I wasn’t sure why.

Gut feelings are a bitch.