13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Lou

If someone told me I would be describing the definition of punk rock in a packed bar, standing in front of a stage while holding hands with a smoldering Billie Joe Armstrong; I would have laughed until I died. That is something social butterflies do, not social outcasts. Yet, here I am, using my personal connection with alienation and social discomfort to successfully conquer punk trivia.

“Folks, we have a winner! Let’s hear it for the Lavishing Leather Ladies!” The bar breaks into applause once more and we head back to our table. The entire walk back, I find myself congratulated by eyeliner-wearing strangers. Feeling my cheeks heat from all the attention, I duck my head until we get back to the confines of our table. My actions may be a far cry from the invisible girl back in high school, but my internal discomfort appears to be the same.

“You did really well back there, Trip.” Cody’s comforting voice washes over me as we return to our seats.

“Well? She was fucking amazing.” The outburst comes from Stella, who hasn’t stopped vibrating since we were announced the winners.

Her comment makes me laugh, “Whoever scored the winning point was bound to be ranked amazing in Stella’s books.” Cody nods his head in agreement while Stella gasps in mock outrage.

“Winning isn’t everything. It just makes everything better.” Shaking my head in amusement, I watch as Stella and Cody fall into a debate over who is the worse loser.

“She’s right, you know,” The whisper breathes into my ear, sending chills down my spine.

“Winning makes everything better?” I playfully whisper back, our proximity close enough that I can smell the minty scent of Wes’ breath.

Wes laughs, the husky sound resonating through my skin. “I can’t argue with that, but I meant the other one. You were fucking amazing back there.” The words send a rush of pleasure through me, bringing a deeper flush to my cheeks. Between the hand holding, the compliments, and the getup Wes is wearing tonight; I am at a complete disadvantage.

“You weren’t so bad yourself.” When Wes pulled out the answer for the second question, I was unbelievably shocked. He didn’t strike me as a head banger type of guy, but maybe I misjudged him. That certainly seems to be the case for most things involving Wes.

He leans back in his seat, throwing me a wink. “Anything to impress the prettiest girl in the room.” I feel my grin grow wider.

“It was a complete guess, wasn’t it?” Narrowing his beautiful eyes, Wes responds.

“I don’t appreciate the assumption. We have already secured my nerd status, what reason do you have to doubt me?” I continue to smirk, waiting for the inevitable. About thirty seconds goes by until he gives in.

“Fine. I only remembered someone’s name being close to Ramen. The fact Ramone ended up being punk rock may or may not have been luck on my part.” I raise my fist in triumph. “Hey, it wasn’t a complete guess. My memory simply stored the important part.”

“Like someone being named after cheap noodles.”

“Exactly.” We smile at each other, the buzzing bar fading into the background. Suddenly all I can see are sparkling emeralds, midnight-coloured spikes, and a loose red tie that looks like an invitation to grad a hold of.

A cough across the table drags my attention away from the fantasy sitting beside me.

“So, I was just saying the costume contest is about to start. Do you want to join me?” Stella raises her eyebrow, “unless you’re done for the night, then maybe Wes can take you home?” I can’t tell if the glint in her eyes is a challenge to stay or to go.

“No way I’m missing the costume contest. We’re in this together, remember?” My heart pounds in my ears as I hastily trade one bad idea for another. Nothing like volunteering to walk the green mile twicein one night for the sake of friendship.

“As if I could forget. Come on, we’ve got to line up on stage.” I gulp as Stella threads her arm through mine, pulling me out of my seat and towards the stage. Tugging me closer, she leans in to whisper in my ear.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the roommate bonding, hon, but the smoldering man beside you would have been a fun ride home.” I sneak a glance back at the man in question, huffing a laugh when he throws me two thumbs up and a beaming smile.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Stella leads me up the stairs to the stage, scrunching her nose up in confusion.

“You’re afraid Wes might put his years of experience to good use?” My cheeks burn red as we join the lineup.

“No. I mean, yes. I mean… we’re good friends and I don’t want to lose him.”

“Okay, let’s get a few things straight.” Stella holds up her fingers. “First off, that man has not taken his eyes off you the entire night. And don’t think I didn’t see your little hand holding moment earlier.” I open my mouth to interrupt, but the second finger silences me. “Second, an informant told me Wes purposely chose his outfit tonight because he knew you would like it. Someone who looks like that does not wear eyeliner unless he has a purpose.” Seeing my opportunity, I interject quickly.

“I’m pretty sure Wes loves dressing up, period.” A third finger pops up and wags aggressively in my line of sight.

“No interrupting. And thirdly, the chemistry between you two is so strong Cody and I can barely breath.” She ticks off her last finger, throwing a final comment my way. “We both know you and Wes are a lot more than friends, Lou. And if tonight is any indication, that boy is not letting you go anytime soon.”

Hope flares in my chest, a weak flame flickering at the edge of my insecurities. “Do you really think so?”

“Oh, Lou. I know so.”

Wolf whistles break over the crowd as Stella and I step forward. The winner of the costume contest is whoever receives the loudest reaction, and so far, everyone has been around the same. Naturally, my competitive roommate came up with a plan to make sure we come out on top, sadly, said plan involves active participation on my part.

Instead of taking a step forward, striking a pose, and returning to our position like all the other contestants, Stella and I march to center stage. Stella leads the way with a fierce strut: hair bobbing, hips swaying, leg muscles flexing through skin-tight leather while I more so scurry alongside her, doing my best not to trip. We reach the front of the elevated platform and break into phase two. Taking my hand, Stella twirls me around the stage and drops me into a low dip, making sure the audience gets the chance to see every inch of our costumes. Pulling me off the ground, we sashay back to our original positions, finishing the performance off with two curtsies executed in perfect unison. The crowd goes wild and the smile pasted to my face melts into a real one as I catch sight of Cody and Wes whopping from across the room.

“We crushed it!” Stella’s voice breaks through the roar of the mob as the announcer moves to the next contestant.

“Thanks for not dropping me on my head.” When Stella originally walked me through the routine, I’d thought for sure brain damage was my future. If I was lucky, maybe a slight concussion.

“Please. As if our sisterly bond would fall victim to gravity.” I smile, deciding not to point out the hours Stella spends at the gym is most likely the reason behind our success. There’s no need to ruin our sisterly moment.

“Alright folks, it looks like we have a winner. And it’s one we’ve seen before. Let’s hear it for… the Lavishing Leather Ladies!” Stella and I wave to the crowd as the bar breaks into applause once again.

Edging out of the spotlight, relief hits me as we finally make our way off the stage. “Let me be the one to say, next time Wes doesn’tget to pick our team’s name.”

Stella chuckles, “Agreed. Although, it is rather fitting don’t you think?”