Up In Flames(3)
Author: Nicole Williams

She made a face while she considered this before shrugging. “What are you doing tonight after work? Logan’s out of town at a game, right?”

“Yeah, he left this afternoon and will be back on Sunday,” I said. “And what do I always do on a Friday night?” It was a rhetorical question. As a general rule of thumb, Dad opened the restaurant and I closed it.

“Close this place down,” she said, spraying down a few more tables. I was confused as I watched her scrub the tables. Dani was my best friend and all, but she wasn’t scheduled to close tonight. Normally I’d be lucky if I could flip that closed sign before Dani was clocked out and running out of the place. “What if I said I’d help you get this place cleaned and closed earlier than usual so you could go out and have a good time with me before your dad even knew you were late?”

“I’d say you’re up to something,” I said, rolling the cart of dirty dishes into the back.

“I am up to something,” she hollered at me over the radio. “Trying to show my best friend a good time this summer. Trying to show her what she’s going to be missing out on if she gets married a few short months after graduating high school. Trying to show her the way a man should want to play with those fun bags.”

I rolled my eyes as I loaded a tray for the dishwasher. Dani had invited me to plenty of parties in our years together and the only ones I’d said yes to were her birthday parties. I’d even started missing those over the past few years because they’d been more a study in hedonism than happy birthday.

I’d always said no. So why, tonight, did I feel like a yes was on the tip of my tongue?

I was pretty sure my answer had something to do with a certain Cole Carson and that stomach thing he made me feel whenever I thought about him.

“Where’s the party at?” I said, not needing clarification as to what it was. Dani didn’t do slumber parties or cosmic bowling on a Friday night. She danced on table tops and drank Smirnoff like it was going out of production.

Dani’s head popped into the back, her brown eyes bugged out. So she was as shocked as I was that I was actually thinking about this.

“The clearing on old man Shanigan’s property,” she said, helping me load the next tray for the dishwasher. “It’s the summer kick-off party and everyone’s going to be there.”

“Everyone?” I said sarcastically, sliding the first tray into the washer and closing the door. “I just graduated a few days ago with ‘everyone’. I don’t want to see them tapping kegs and dry humping against trees on old man Shanigan’s.”

“Not all the dip-shits we went to school with,” she said. “I mean, sure they’ll all be there, but when I say everyone, I mean everyone as in the smokejumpers.”

How Dani could make the words smoke and jumper sound as filthy as she could was a true talent.

I groaned as I prepared to load the second tray. “Dani, the only thing that sounds like less of a good time than hanging out with all the same people we grew up with would be hanging out with a bunch of guys who think a local is something you put your penis in.”

Dani’s eyes bugged again. Given her eyes were already large for her face, the effect was rather funny. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard the word penis come from that sweet little mouth you’ve never had wrapped around one before,” she giggled as she helped me stack the clean dishes. “This is as wild as I’ll ever get you, Elle. I’m not taking a no tonight. You’re coming. You’ll drink a beer. Or two. You’ll have a good time. Maybe even get felt up by one of those raving sexaholic smokejumper sinners.” The glare I shot her only made her smile wider. “And then one day, when you’re lying next to Logan in bed, wondering how he failed to pleasure you yet again with his c*ck or his tongue, you can have happy thoughts about that one night you let your hair down.”

I cringed. “Two things. Don’t ever mention Logan’s . . .”

“Cock,” Dani assisted, winking at me.

I nodded. “Logan’s c-word or tongue again.”

“Oh, hell, Elle. How can you and I be such good friends and you can’t even manage to say the word cock?” she said, looking almost offended. “Cock has to be my second favorite four letter word.”

“I wonder what the first is,” I said, nudging her as I headed back into the dining room. Paul, the chef, was just finishing up his closing duties for the night, and thanks to Dani’s help, we weren’t far behind.

“Yeah, but it’s my first favorite because of the action, not the descriptor.”

“I’m all finished up here,” Paul called from the kitchen. “I’ll catch you ladies tomorrow night.”

“Good night, Paul,” I said, waving after him.

“And that’s exactly the kind of night I have planned for you.” Dani shouldered up beside me and nudged me.

I wasn’t sure why, although I was sure I’d regret it later, but I nodded. “Let me grab my things and get closed up.”

Dani clucked her tongue and grabbed one rogue dishcloth and gave my butt another smack. “The point of tonight is to get opened up, Elle.”

Chapter Two

I’d just told my dad a bold faced lie over the phone about staying late at the cafe to do inventory. I’d answered Logan’s What are you up to text with Not much besides missing you and I was en route to a booze and bonfire party in the backwoods.

That streak of wild I tried to keep a lid on had officially burst free.

“So your dad bought your story?” Dani asked me as we headed for old man Shanigan’s in my Jeep.

“Yeah. He bought it,” I said with a sigh.

I felt lousy for lying to Dad, but even lousier because I knew he’d never doubt me. I’d never given him a reason to. I’d never stepped one toe out of line my whole life, at least as far as Dad knew. He’d probably feel differently if he knew about the summer skinny dipping breaks or the time I’d drunk a half bottle of fruity red wine from Dani’s mom’s liquor cabinet.

“You are so lucky you’ve only got one member of the gestapo to patrol you. Dad and mom finally gave up—mostly—when I turned eighteen, but it was a real bitch trying to sneak out with one patrolling the front door and the other at the back.”

I kept my eyes focused on the road. “Yeah. I’m so lucky,” I said.

The Jeep got really quiet for a few seconds.

“Oh, God,” Dani said, grabbing my arm. “Elle, I’m sorry. I’ve got the biggest mouth and I don’t think before I speak and . . . shit, I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Dani,” I said, keeping my voice flat. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” To distract myself, I fumbled with the stereo, changing stations until I found a good, thumping song that would make it hard to carry on a conversation.

I knew Dani hadn’t meant to hurt me, but it had. My mom died when I was four, just a couple years after she and dad had turned their dream of being restaurant owners into a reality. I was young when mom died, so it was surprising how much I could remember of her. It wasn’t so much play-by-play scenes, but images. Like my young mind had snapped photographs of her and seared them into my mind.

She was a vivacious, spirited woman who had smile lines before she’d turned thirty and the same hazel colored eyes as me. She was always up for an adventure and believed nature provided the best terrain for the best kind of adventures. My dad had told me I’d spent more time in a hiking backpack than a stroller and learned to ski before I could ride a bike.

“Holy shit. I can see the bonfire from here,” Dani said, pointing at a glowing orb up ahead. “This is going to be one epic party. I can feel it in my bones.”

I lowered the volume on the radio. “I’m having second thoughts,” I said. “Do you think if I drop you off someone would give you a ride home? Someone who isn’t trashed? Because I really think I just need to go home and—”

“And what?” Dani interrupted. “Watch ‘I Love Lucy’ reruns while you stuff your face with marshmallows and try and fail to long for your safe, non-frisking boyfriend?”

Some days it was easy to remember why I loved Dani. This day wasn’t one. “Okay, I don’t even know where to start with that whole spiel, but—”

“So don’t even try because nothing you can say will convince me otherwise. You’re going to the party and that’s final,” she said, pointing me up a potholed road. “I cannot allow you to go to your grave without at least one night you don’t regret. Consider tonight to be hopefully the first of many nights of no regret.”

I parked my Jeep on the outskirts of dozens of cars. I could already hear the hooting and hollering. “And how many nights do you regret?” I shot her a look as I stepped out of the Jeep.

Dani came around front and weaved her arm through mine. “Not a single one,” she said as she steered me in the opposite direction of where I wanted to run right now.

“This is a bad idea,” I said, noticing all the familiar cars. The cars of people who would recognize me. Both Logan and my dad would know where I’d been tonight come tomorrow afternoon. “Every single person is going to recognize me and be more than happy to tell on the good girl going bad one night.”

“Two things. One, everyone in this town loves you. Even the raging partiers up there. No one’s going to say anything about you being here tonight. Besides, even if they didn’t like you, there’s a party code of conduct rule that you don’t blab to anyone about who was and wasn’t at a party,” she said, continuing to tug me ahead. “And two, everyone’s going to be so drunk no one will even remember you were here.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I asked, zipping up my jacket before sliding on my gloves. The days might have been unseasonably warm, but the nights still required bundling up.

“Okay, since you’re so worried about people recognizing you and actually caring you’re living one night like an eighteen year old should,”—Dani weaved in front of me and stopped me in my tracks—“I’ve got an easy solution to this. Take your hair out of that damn ponytail,” she said, tugging on my hair tie. Sheets of hair fell down my back as she wove her fingers through it, teasing and tousling until she was satisfied. “Put on a little makeup . . .” Pulling out a few tubes from her coat pocket, Dani went to work on my face. She was finished before I knew what hit me. “And voila, you’re my cousin from out-of-town who’s here to spend a couple weeks partying it up in central Washington with me.” Dani gave my hair a few last tweaks before grabbing a hold of my arm and steering me towards the party. “Oh, and your name’s Savannah and you’re from South Carolina.”

“Shouldn’t I have an accent if I’m from South Carolina?” This bad idea had just gone from marginally to entirely.