23. Caleb
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Caleb
The Grapevine is lively for a Friday evening. This time of July is usually when the tourists visiting for the Fourth of July start to head home, but judging from the sea of unfamiliar faces, it seems that many have lingered this year.
Upon entering, I’d spotted a few locals around the dance floor.
Some of them I’d gone to school with, including the owner, Cooper Donovan.
We weren’t friends, but we were always friendly when we crossed paths.
He and Linny ran on the cross-country team together in high school for a year before he graduated.
The Grapevine is the only place on the island to go dancing.
It opened a few years back, taking the place of a beloved restaurant that went under.
It was a big deal in the papers—a little controversial, too.
Cooper never intended to replace it with another restaurant, and somehow successfully petitioned for the building to be rezoned.
Part of its charm, aside from being the only place to go dancing, was its nightly themes and accompanying soundtracks. Everything from disco to the wild west to Taylor Swift.
Tonight’s theme is ’80s Night, courtesy of Parker.
That is Linny’s favorite decade of music, and when she said she wanted to go dancing, he got ahold of Cooper to surprise Linny.
She’s been really stressed with her research lately, and Parker thought this would help cheer her up.
He made a mixtape of songs for the evening and gave it to Cooper, along with a fifty-dollar bill, to ensure nothing else played tonight besides those songs unless specifically requested by Linny herself.
Parker is completely head over heels for Linny. He just won’t act on it. I’m not sure if he’s lying about his feelings to himself or to her, but if he’s not honest about his feelings soon, he’s going to regret it for the rest of his life.
Parker and I are occupying a half-circle booth to the left of the dance floor, giving us the perfect view of the club from this angle.
The leather is worn with stains from spilled drinks and repeated use in its short existence.
The wooden floors have seen better days, but each scratch, scuff, and crack hold a memory and a story of a fun time out with family and friends.
The largest part of the club is the dance floor, which is perfectly centered in the middle of the club and is equidistant to the bar, DJ booth, and seating areas.
There is a small upstairs VIP lounge reserved for visiting celebrities or event rentals with a balcony that overlooks the entire lower floor.
Marnie and Linny are currently on the dance floor singing along to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” while Parker and I nurse our beers. As torturous as it is to just sit and watch, I am glad I came. I’m surrounded by friends, good tunes, and a certain redhead that keeps taking up residence in my head.
I sneak a glimpse of Marnie while she is whispering something in Linny’s ear.
Her leather pants hug every curve and her low-cut top exposes the slightest bit of cleavage.
Her hair falls in loose waves down her bare back, and there’s a subtle flush to her cheeks, likely from a combination of alcohol, dancing, and temperature inside the club.
She looks good. Damn good.
I wanted to tell her as much, but I got cold feet. We haven’t talked about the bonfire and everything that happened afterward since Monday in her office. Her taking care of me, her staying over, the kiss . . . any of it. She said we should forget the kiss happened, but I can’t.
Part of me hopes she can’t either.
We seem to be doing this metaphorical dance with each other. A mutual push and pull, like the ebb and flow of the ocean, slowly retreating but always making our way back to each other. I just need her to realize that for herself.
The song morphs into M?tley Crüe’s “Girls, Girls, Girls” and cheers erupt from the center of the club where nearly every woman is now on the dance floor underneath the flashing lights, dancing with their group of friends.
There were at least fifty women on the dance floor, but only one I had eyes for.
It seems she had the same idea, because her eyes are locked on mine.
Her hips are swaying to the beat of the song, her mouth singing the words to me. The movements are slow and controlled. Deliberate. Teasing, even.
She’s magnetic. Wild, care-free. Not giving a damn about what others think of her. Not preoccupied with any obligations to other people.
The real Marnie.
I’m in a trance, and it feels like we are the only two people in the room. The songs blur together until I have no idea how long we’ve been staring at each other.
The outro of ZZ Top’s “Legs” begins to fade as Linny makes her way back to the booth, Marnie in tow, and they chug down the ice water Parker fetched for them.
“I need to get out more,” Linny pants between sips. “I should not be this out of breath dancing to old eighties hits. My ancestors would be so disappointed in me.”
“Who cares what they think? I was enjoying the show,” Parker chimes in.
We all share a laugh, except Linny, who smacks Parker across the chest. He throws his hands up defensively.
Linny downs the rest of her water and sets her glass in front of Parker. “Just for that, you owe me a dance.”
“Let me finish the rest of my beer and then I’ll be right there. Go request a song for us.” Parker has never been able to say no to Linny, even since we were kids. He’s ensnared in her web with no chance of breaking free.
Linny lets out a light squeal and takes off in the direction of the DJ booth.
Marnie puts her glass down next to Linny’s. “You know,” she starts, fixing the clasp of her necklace before leaning over the table in my direction. Her neckline falls just low enough to give me a tease. “It would be a shame for you to sit alone in this booth all night.”
I don’t break eye contact, but I can see Parker’s amused grin in my periphery. He’s enjoying this too much.
I stare back, waiting for her to say it. It’s on the tip of her tongue.
“Wanna dance?” she finally asks.
Yes.
But that’s not what comes out. Coward.
“My leg,” I gesture underneath the table, the outline of the wrap around my thigh still visible through my jeans. “I overdid it the other day while moving boxes, so I really shouldn’t push it. Doctor’s orders.”
I could’ve sworn a flash of disappointment crossed her face, but she simply nodded and returned to the dance floor to find Linny.
It wasn’t a complete lie. I did overdo it to the point that my leg started hurting. My stitches still haven’t dissolved—the doctors said it could take a few weeks—but the bruising is going down, so they said I could resume normal activities with some continued restrictions.
No heavy lifting and no strenuous activity. No mention of dancing, though.
“Dude, you’re a dumbass,” Parker speaks up when the girls are out of earshot.
I throw a glare in his direction. “How’s that?”
“That was your chance to seal the deal.” He smacks me on the arm. “What are you waiting for?”
You should talk, I want to say, but I bite back my retort.
No sense in getting Parker riled up, no matter how much I want to throw the irony in his words back in his face.
To ask him what he’s waiting for when I know he’s been secretly pining after the same girl ever since we were kids.
There’s a picture of Parker in the dictionary next to the word hypocrite.
I lean back against the stiff wood of the booth and scan the dance floor for Marnie, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave it alone.
“You’re really not going to dance with her because of what some damn doctor said?” Parker asked me, looking skeptical.
“Dude, seriously, drop it,” I say with a harsher edge to my tone.
He crosses his arms, not ready to let this go. “If you won’t dance with her, you could at least go and talk to her instead of moping around in this booth all alone.”
I ignore him, taking a long gulp of my beer.
Parker lets out a disapproving laugh and shakes his head. “Your funeral.” He slides out the other end of the booth and makes his way over to Marnie and Linny, giving Marnie a quick kiss on the cheek before taking Linny’s hand to spin her around.
I know he thinks he’s just trying to help me get my head out of my ass, but I don’t like the insinuation that I wouldn’t give anything to have Marnie lead me onto that dance floor.
Marnie breaks away from where Linny and Parker are pressed up against each other, her eyes finding me once more, a silent invitation in them.
I want to so badly, but I don’t want to misread the situation. We almost kissed on game night, and she shut down on me. Then we actually kissed the day of the bonfire, and she shut down on me again. My heart can’t take a third time.
She senses my hesitation, a mixture of hurt and acceptance spreading across her face, and then she disappears into the crowd.
On Monday, I left the ball in her court. I told her I wanted more. Whatever she would give me, even if it was just for the rest of the summer.
I’ve made my intentions perfectly clear. All she has to do is say yes.
Surveying the crowd to see where she disappeared to, I catch sight of her at the bar. I have half a mind to follow her over there and take her up on her offer. She’s leaning against the bar when a man approaches her, and she greets him with her signature bright smile.
My jaw clenches when she tips her head back and laughs, and I fill in the sound from memory. Whatever he said cannot possibly be that fucking funny.
I bring the bottle to my lips in an effort to settle my feelings, but my throat runs dry and the beer turns sour in my mouth as I watch her grab the man’s arm and pull him onto the dance floor.