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Dan sees the doubt on my face and rushes to reassure me. “If you called him, Dad would want time to consult Pastor Ray, and then we would miss it.” His eyes are wide, pleading with me.
Levi looks up from his laptop, black-framed glasses slipping down his nose. He pushes them back up. “You guys go ahead. I need to work on this genetics paper. I want to get a head start.”
We all know he’s not even challenged by his advanced classes. We are the extent of his social circle, and he’d rather write a textbook than meet new people.
“You ready?”
I’ve got on my Sunday-best jeans—the only ones without rips—my black button-down shirt, and leather boots. Dan is dressed the same, except that he’s wearing a green button-down. Silas has a baseball game tonight.
“So, you and the tattooed—” Dan begins as we get into my ’72 Chevy.
“Her name is Harley,” I clip.
“Okay, Harley. Are you and her like, ya know…”
Apparently, giving a girl a ride home at two a.m. means you’re in love with her.
Dan and I were never allowed to date. He’s gone off and kissed a few girls behind the classrooms at church, out of view of the parking lot, but we’re both inexperienced with relationships and intimacy.
“We’re just friends.” I pause. “Not that I owe you an explanation.” I can’t explain it to him if I don’t understand it.
A few minutes pass by, and we pull up to the dance hall the sorority rented out.
“Ha, I just keep picturing Mom’s face if you ever tried to bring her—”
My hand slams the steering wheel. “Would you shut up about it? Damn.” I focus on looking for a space, taking deep breaths.
“Oh, she’s really rubbing off on you. I’ve never heard you curse. Not even when your hand got caught under the combine blade.”
His face is turned toward me, trying not to laugh. Thirty-four stitches left a jagged scar on my left hand. I flex it at the memory.
As we walk toward the dance hall, there are men in cowboy hats stationed outside, asking for IDs. One marks Dan’s hands with Xs. I get a pink bracelet around my wrist.
The interior is dimly lit, revealing a saddle, glittering with mirrors and diamonds, suspended from the ceiling. A stage light is trained on it, causing light to bounce all around the couples dancing in the center of the floor.
I start to recognize a few faces from my classes and the dorms as we make our way toward the swaying bodies. Most of the girls are wearing little dresses with cowboy boots, which I’ve never seen before. The guys are all in a variation of what Dan and I have on.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” my brother says to me, loud enough to be heard over the blaring Texas country band.
“Not my girlfriend,” I mumble under my breath, searching the sea of skin for one marked up with ink.
“Hey, boys, so glad you could make it!” Kenna approaches us in a little black dress that has a lacy part over her stomach and a pair of white boots.
Her face falls a bit as she approaches, but she’s still smiling.
“Where’s Levi?” She looks behind us toward the entrance.
“He, uh, needed to write a paper,” I say.
Her wide green eyes peer up at me. She hesitates but finally speaks, “Does he not…well, is he gay?” She rushes out the last part.
My mouth drops open.
“No, no, he’s not gay. Why would you think so?”
Dan is simply listening in, as perplexed as I am at her question.
She rushes to explain. “Well, he just didn’t really even give me a chance, you know? I guess I was just hoping it wasn’t…me.” She brushes a hand through her straight blonde hair and glances over her bare shoulder.
