A Flicker in the Dark(20)

My brother seemed to sense me looking, because before long, I saw his eyes peek above the heads of the others, zeroing in on mine. I waved, smiled meekly. I didn’t mind being alone—really, I didn’t—but I hated the way it made others see me. Cooper, especially. I watched him push his way through his friends, dismissing some scrawny kid with a wrist-flick when he tried to follow. Then he made his way over to me and slung his arm around my shoulder.

“Bet you a bag of popcorn on number seven?”

I smiled, grateful for the company—and for the way he never acknowledged that I spent the majority of my life alone.

“Deal.”

I looked over at the race, about to begin. I remember the commissioner’s scream—Ils sont partis!—the cheering crowds, those little red mudbugs clicking their way across the target spray-painted on a ten-foot wooden board. Within seconds, I had lost and Cooper had won, so we made our way to the concession stand so he could collect his bounty.

Standing in line, I had never been happier. Those early days of summer brought so much promise, it was like the red carpet of freedom was being rolled out beneath my feet, stretching so far into the distance it felt like it couldn’t possibly end. Cooper grabbed the bag of popcorn and pushed a kernel into his mouth, sucking off the salt, as I handed over the cash. Then we turned around, and Lena was there.

“Hey, Coop.” She smiled at him before fixing her gaze on me. She was holding a bottle of Sprite, twisting the cap on and off between her fingers. “Hey, Chloe.”

“Hey, Lena.”

My brother was a popular kid, a jock, wrestling for Breaux Bridge High School. People knew his name and it always confused me, watching him make friends as naturally as I kept to myself. He didn’t discriminate when it came to company—he’d hang out with his wrestling buddies one day, make small talk with some stoners the next. Mostly, his attention just seemed to make you feel important, like you were somehow worthy of something valuable and rare.

Lena was popular, too, but for the wrong reasons.

“Y’all want a sip?”

I eyed her carefully, her flat stomach sticking out from beneath a skintight henley that looked two sizes too small, pushing her cleavage up through the buttons. I caught a glint of something sparkly on her stomach—a belly-button ring—and I immediately snapped my head back up, trying not to stare. She smiled at me, lifting the bottle to her lips. I watched a bead of liquid dribble down her chin before she wiped it with her middle finger.

“Do you like it?” She pulled her shirt up, rolled the diamond between her fingers. There was a charm dangling beneath it, some kind of bug.

“It’s a firefly,” she said, reading my mind. “They’re my favorite. It glows in the dark.”

She cupped her hands around her stomach and motioned for me to peek through; I did, my forehead pressed against the edges of her hands. Inside, the bug had turned a bright, neon green.

“I like to catch them,” she said, looking down at her stomach. “Put them in a jar.”

“I do, too,” I said, still peeking through the hole in her hands. It reminded me of the fireflies that emerged in our trees at night, the way I would run through the darkness, swatting at them like I was swimming through stars.

“And then I take them out and squish them between my fingers. Did you know you can write your name on the sidewalk with their glow?”

I winced; I couldn’t imagine squishing a bug with my bare hands, listening to it pop. But that did seem kind of cool, getting to rub its liquid between my fingers, watching it radiate up close.

“Somebody’s staring,” she said, dropping her hands. I snapped my head up and looked in the direction of her gaze, directly at my father. He was across the crowd, staring at us. Staring at Lena, with her shirt pulled up to her bra. She smiled at him, waved with her free hand. He ducked his head down and kept walking.

“So,” she said, pushing the Sprite bottle in Cooper’s direction and wiggling it in the air. “Do you want a sip?”

He glanced over to where my dad once stood, finding a gap instead of his watchful eye, then back at the bottle, snatching it from her hand and taking a fast swig.

“I’ll take some,” I said, grabbing it from him. “I’m so thirsty.”

“No, Chloe—”

But my brother’s warning came too late; the bottle was on my lips then, the liquid pouring into my mouth and down my throat. I didn’t just take a sip, I took a gulp. A gulp of what tasted like battery acid burning my esophagus the whole way down. I yanked the bottle from my mouth and heaved, the feeling of vomit rising up my throat. My cheeks inflated, and I started to gag, but instead of puking, I forced the liquid down so I could finally breathe.

“Ugh,” I choked, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. My throat was on fire; my tongue was on fire. For a second, I started to panic that maybe I had been poisoned. “What was that?”

Lena giggled, taking the bottle from my hand and finishing it off. She drank it like water; it amazed me.

“It’s vodka, silly. You’ve never had vodka before?”

Cooper looked around, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. I couldn’t talk, so he talked for me.

“No, she’s never had vodka before. She’s twelve.”

Lena shrugged, unfazed. “Gotta start somewhere.”