Labor of Love

  Brady and I walked in tandem, following Tank and Jenna. Their height made them easy to keep in sight.

  The street didn’t have a shortage of bars, which you’d probably expect of a street named Bourbon, although the name didn’t really refer to booze. At the time New Orleans was founded by the French, the French royal family was the House of Bourbon and Rue Bourbon was named to honor them. Yes, I’d spent a lot of time on Wikipedia, looking up facts that were probably only interesting to me. Which is why I didn’t share that one with Brady.

  We stopped just outside a corner daiquiri bar. The huge doors were wide open. People walked in, got their drinks, and strolled out. Behind the counter were several huge vats of frozen drinks, so it didn’t take very long to get served. The tables inside were crammed with people watching a baseball game on the TV hanging on the wall.

  “I don’t get that,” Brady said.

  “What?”

  “You’ve got all this stuff happening out here, and people are in there watching TV. I can watch TV at home. Why come here if that’s what you’re going to do?”

  “Maybe New Orleans is their home.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Or maybe they’re huge baseball fans.”

  “Still. I believe you gotta experience life, not watch it.”

  He looked at me like he thought I should agree. I didn’t know what to say. Up until this summer, my experiences were pretty limited. I didn’t want to get into an experience-listing competition.

  “I’m making a run,” Tank suddenly said.

  He went inside, leaving Jenna on the sidewalk. She had her cell phone out, pointed it at me, took a picture, and winked. For her MySpace page, no doubt. As proof to Drew that I’d totally gotten over him. Moved on.

  Who knew pictures could lie?

  It was only then that I realized I was still nestled snugly against Brady’s side. I didn’t want to be obvious about easing away from him, which meant that I stayed beside him because there was no way to move away without being obvious.

  So, okay, maybe I was just looking for an excuse to stay close. The weight of his arm around me felt really nice.

  “You’re not going to get something to drink?” I asked.

  He grinned and winked. “I’m not going in to buy something, but yeah, I’ll have something. Tank’s the only one who’s twenty-one. I might get carded if I tried to buy it, but I don’t usually get carded once I’m holding it.”

  I wondered if that was part of the reason he kept stubble on his chin, so he’d look older. It was considerably darker than his hair. It gave him a rough, dangerous look. Which gave me a thrill. To be with someone older, someone who looked like he could be trouble, someone who wasn’t Drew.

  “Sounds like you have a system,” I said. There I was again, being snide, trying to find that elusive flaw. What was wrong with me?

  “I believe in partying hearty. And tonight we’re pedestrians, so the only crashing that will take place is when we hit the beds.” He gave me his sexy grin. (Did he have any other kind?) “Who am I hurting?”

  Tank came out with a frozen red drink.

  “Strawberry daiquiri,” he said. “They give a free shot of Sex on the Beach, but I couldn’t bring it out, so I was forced to drink it myself.”

  “But you’re always willing to make the sacrifice,” Brady said.

  “You bet! Let’s party!”

  We started walking up the sidewalk, stepping into the street when the crowds were thick on the sidewalk outside the bars that had entertainment. Music wafted out through the open doors. I wasn’t familiar with the tunes but hearing them live made me want to follow their rhythm. I thought I could probably become a fan. Expand my musical horizons.

  When we passed through some shadows, Tank passed the drink back. Brady took it and offered it to me. Okay. I wasn’t old enough, but I didn’t want to seem like a prude, either. I compromised and took a very small sip. It was tasty, so I took another. I was pretty sure all the alcohol was on the bottom and I’d lifted the straw up some, so I was drinking from the middle. The alcohol-free zone. Sounded reasonable to me. Not that a cop would buy into my reasoning.

  A vision flashed through my mind of having to call Mom and Dad to bail me out of jail. Wouldn’t that be just great? I wondered if that was how things worked for Saraphina. Pictures just flashed through her mind and they could mean nothing, something, everything. How did she know which ones mattered?

  Brady didn’t bother with a straw. He just gulped down some frozen concoction. We passed another bar, and Tank went inside.

  I looked around. “Where’s Amber?”

  Jenna turned in a slow circle, then shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “She and Sean ducked into one of the bars we passed back there to listen to the music,” Brady said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

  How had I missed that? I hadn’t seen Amber and Sean slip away. I guess maybe I was paying too much attention to Brady. But sitting down and listening to a band sounded like a terrific idea. One way to keep my shoes semiclean anyway. But then, I also wanted to see everything there was to see out here, too.

  “We can go back there if you want,” Brady said.

  He didn’t say it with much enthusiasm. I didn’t know him well enough to read between the lines, but I had a feeling that he wanted to keep walking. I didn’t know how I knew that. I just did.

  “No, I’d rather explore.”

  “Great! Let’s at least go to the end of what they’ve got blocked off. See what other stuff they’ve got going on. Then we can head back, find the bar they’re in.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’m known for my plans.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. That’s what architects do. Draw up plans.”

  He gave me a smile that seemed to say I was part of those plans. Or maybe I was just reading things into his expression that I wanted to be there. Maybe he was really talking about blueprints. Although part of me was hoping for the more personal meaning. We were having a good time. And I suddenly wanted to have a good time. A really good time. Show Drew that I was finished moping about him. Have Jenna post a hundred of those pictures for him to see.

  Tank came out of the bar with a yellow frozen drink. “Banana,” he said, boldly offering it to Jenna.

  She took it without hesitating.

  We started walking up the street again.

  “More?” Brady asked, holding the strawberry daiquiri toward me.

  “Uh, no, but thanks.”

  I felt like a total downer, but my parents had let me come here because they trusted me not to get into trouble. Trust was a heavy burden, a double-edged sword. Too many clichés to name. But I didn’t want to do something the first night that would have me back home the second.

  Brady finished the daiquiri, crumpled up the plastic cup—why do guys always feel a need to crumple whatever they’ve been drinking out of?—and tossed it in a nearby trash can.

  “We need to get you some beads,” he said.

  I was pretty sure he wasn’t talking about buying me any that were hanging in the windows of the many shops.

  Guys stood on balconies, dangling beads, and yelling at girls walking by. Whenever a girl lifted her top, a guy would toss her a strand or two. Unless he was totally wasted, in which case the beads landed on nearby trees or shrubbery. Beads were pretty much all over the place.

  “I’ve decided not to do everything the first night,” I said. “I want to leave something for later in the summer.”

  Brady chuckled, leaned near my ear, and whispered, “Chicken.”

  Okay, maybe I was. I’d never even lifted my shirt for Drew.

  “Don’t look so serious,” Brady said. “I’m just teasing.”

  “I guess I don’t know you well enough—”

  “To share what’s underneath that tee?”

  “To know when you’re teasing,” I corrected.

  “There is that.”

 
He released his hold on me, which I realized felt strange. Not to have him holding me. I almost felt bereft. But that didn’t make sense. I’d just met the guy.

  He moved so he was standing near a balcony. Waving his arms, he was yelling up at the people leaning over the railing. I’d seen only guys on the balconies, but this one had girls, too. Probably in college. When Brady got their attention, he laughed and pulled his T-shirt up and over his head, then he swung it around like a lasso.

  Someone bumped against me. I barely noticed.

  Brady was buff. Nothing at all like Drew.

  I’d tried to interest Drew in various charity runs. He’d always been willing to sponsor me if I was participating, which I’d thought was nice, but I had a feeling that Brady actually ran. And worked out, and engaged in outdoor activities. Based on the bronzed darkness of his back, I had a feeling he spent most of his time in the sun.

  I watched as dozens of beads dropped through the air. Brady snagged them. He was hamming it up, dancing around, strutting his stuff. The party girls were whistling, dropping more beads, inviting him up.

  Brady was being crazy, dancing around, having fun, not caring what anyone thought.

  I started laughing. He hadn’t struck me as being quite so uninhibited, but it was all in the spirit of New Orleans. I think everyone around him was having as much fun as he was.

  I was really, really glad that I was there, involved, part of the madness.

  Brady turned toward me, holding up all the strands of beads, smiling like some returning explorer who was delivering gold to his queen or something. He dropped them down over my head.

  Then, grinning broadly, he wrapped his fingers around them, pulled me toward him, and kissed me.

  Right there in the middle of Bourbon Street, with people pushing past us and music filling the night.

  Chapter 5

  Brady tasted like strawberry daiquiri, and I thought his mouth should be cold from the frozen drink, but it wasn’t. It was hot. Very hot.

  He brought the beads and his knuckles up beneath my chin. He tilted my head back slightly and started kissing me more thoroughly.

  And the thing was—I was kissing him back.

  I told myself that the sip of daiquiri had gone to my head. I told myself that it was simply the craziness of Bourbon Street.

  But I think part of it was that I wanted to hurt Drew. Like me kissing a guy as though my life depended on it would somehow make us even.

  Which was crazy. Because Drew would never know. And it wasn’t fair to Brady. And I knew, I knew, I knew that I should stop kissing him. That my reasons for kissing him had nothing at all to do with him, but was some convoluted sense of revenge.

  Brady was such a nice guy, with a terrific smile. And he kissed me like Drew never had. Part of me wanted to stay there forever.

  But it was wrong.

  I drew back.

  Brady gave me a broad smile. “Oh yeah.”

  He leaned back in. I put my hand on his bare chest. His skin was warm and my fingers tingled. I almost moved back toward him. Instead, I said, “I’ve gotta go.”

  He looked like I’d just told him that he’d stepped in something gross. “What?”

  “I have a curfew.”

  “A curfew?”

  “Yeah, our chaperone is picking us up at the gate to Jackson Square.” I looked at my watch, preparing to lie about the pickup time, but it really was almost eleven. How had that happened? Time had completely gotten away from me. “She’s picking us up at eleven. I really have to go. Thanks for the beads, for dinner, for . . . everything.”

  The kiss, I thought, really, really thank you for the amazing kiss.

  Turning, I hurried back the way we’d come. Or I tried to hurry. It was a little hard when I had to wedge myself between people. “Coming through. Excuse me.”

  “Wait, you can’t just . . . go off by yourself!” I heard Brady call out.

  Only I wasn’t planning to go off by myself. I was planning to go with Jenna and Amber. I just had to find them.

  Brady caught up with me. “Hey, come on. Slow down.”

  I had my phone out, trying to call Jenna. I didn’t know if she’d be able to hear her cell ringing over the saxophones and horns playing their upbeat music and the din of all the people.

  “Hey, Dawn, wait up.” Brady grabbed my arm.

  I spun around. “You’re a nice guy, but—”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t realize . . . a curfew. Wow. Do your friends have one?”

  I nodded, wishing I’d used some other excuse. I suddenly felt like such a kid. “It’s not really a curfew; it’s just that she’s picking us up at eleven, so we need to go. Otherwise, she might give us a real curfew.”

  That sounded worse. Why didn’t I just shut up already?

  “Okay, I just wish you’d said something sooner.”

  If I had, he probably wouldn’t have brought me to Bourbon Street at all. He probably wouldn’t have kissed me.

  It took us nearly twenty minutes to find everyone else. Brady didn’t say anything the entire time. Didn’t hold my hand, although he did keep brushing up against me when the crowds thickened. He’d put his shirt back on— thank goodness. He placed his arm around my shoulders only once and that was when some drunken guy almost stumbled into me—Brady pulled me out of the way, trying to protect me.

  I kept thinking I had to be insane for not holding on to this guy with both hands. I probably could have called Ms. Wynder and . . . what? Our first night here and we couldn’t meet up for the rendezvous because we were partying too hard? I was pretty sure that wouldn’t go over well.

  After we found everyone, we headed for Jackson Square. Tank and Jenna were in the lead again, holding hands. Amber was with Sean, talking. Brady and I trailed behind.

  “Look, about that kiss—” Brady began.

  “Don’t worry about it. It was no big deal.”

  “Ouch!”

  I grimaced. That had really come off sounding bad. I wanted to be cool about it, but I didn’t know how. I mean, Drew and I had dated about a month before he ever got up the courage to kiss me. I think it had been his first kiss, too, and it had been, well, awkward. Eventually, we were kissing like pros. I’m not sure pro what. Are there pro kissers?

  “I just meant that I know it was the craziness of Bourbon Street that made us kiss,” I said.

  “You think?”

  “Oh yeah. I mean, we just met. It can’t be more than that.”

  “I guess.”

  “I mean, this wasn’t even a date or anything. It was just hanging out.”

  “Okay. Yeah.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or relieved.

  When we got near the gate, I saw the other three girls Ms. Wynder had dropped off earlier. They went to my school, too, but I didn’t know them very well.

  “There’s our group,” I told Brady.

  I turned around, walking backward. “Thanks again.”

  A familiar minivan pulled up to the curb. Amber, Jenna, and I started running for it.

  We were all eerily quiet in the minivan after Ms. Wynder asked how our day was and we all responded “Great.” As though a one-word answer would suffice when it most certainly didn’t.

  It had been one of the most up-and-down days of my life. I’d run through the entire gamut of emotions. I was exhausted. And wondering about the psychic’s prediction. Was Brady the guy? Had I seen him for the last time? Was my last memory of him going to be watching him fade into the shadows of the night?

  Once we got to our dorm room, we all let out collective sighs and started preparing for bed. Even though it seemed like something needed to be said, none of us was saying anything.

  I plugged in the pump and pressed the button to inflate the AeroBed that I’d be sleeping on. Each dorm room had only two beds. I had the choice of an air mattress or a roommate I didn’t know—Amber and Jenna had already agreed to bunk together before I realized that I wouldn’t be doing a summer
tour of Texas water parks with Drew. Yeah, that had been our plan. To be together as much as possible. Slipping and sliding the summer away. It had sure sounded like fun at the time.

  Since my life seemed to be a series of adjustments lately, I hadn’t wanted to adjust to living with a stranger, so I’d decided to go the air mattress route.

  Besides, the summer would be a lot more fun if we were all together. Every night would be a sleepover.

  Amber sat on the edge of her bed. “Okay, guys, I need y’all to promise that you’ll never tell Chad what I did tonight.”

  Crouching on the floor by the mattress, I twisted around. “What did you do?”

  “Where were you? I hung out with another guy!” Her voice went up a bit; it had an almost-panicked sound to it.

  I know after my prom night experience, I probably should have been all over her case, but Amber was innocent. She hadn’t done anything wrong, which I felt a need to point out. “Yeah, but you—what? Listened to music?”

  She nodded and looked miserable.

  “It’s not like you were all over him, or sneaking around.”

  “Still, he’s a guy.”

  “But you can have guy friends.”

  “Just don’t say anything to Chad. Ever.”

  “We won’t tell,” Jenna said.

  “Of course, we won’t,” I assured her. “You don’t even have to ask.”

  “Thanks. He just so wouldn’t understand.” She looked at Jenna. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You and Tank. Are you going to see him again?”

  She shrugged. “I gave him my cell phone number, but we were in such a rush at the end, we didn’t really say good-bye or make any plans—”

  Her cell phone rang. She took it out of her shorts pocket and just stared at it.

  “Answer it,” I prodded.

  “It’s Tank. What do I say?”

  “Hello?” I suggested.

  She took a deep breath, opened her phone, and answered, “Hey.”

  With a big smile, she said, “Oh yeah. We’re fine. I know it was crazy there at the end. I didn’t realize it was so late until Dawn found us.” She laughed. “No, we don’t turn into pumpkins at midnight.”