Chapter 8: Chapter Eight--Don't Drink The Punch

Kalvyn cleared his throat. People froze, as if he’d used a blow horn. “Katrina and Lola are under my protection.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say the birds and insects stopped their chirping, but the music drowned them out anyway. Within seconds, the chatter started back up again. Lola didn’t react. His words held weight, didn’t they?

Did I need protection? From what?

Bianca?

Roman sauntered over with two glasses filled with blue liquid. “Party punch. Don’t ask what’s in it. Syber makes it, and he never tells his secret. Just drink it.”

Kalvyn leaned. His lips stroked my ear. “Slowly. It packs a punch.”

“Even for you?”

“Even for me.”

I sipped, delighted at the sweet, tropical flavor. “This has alcohol in it?”

Roman shrugged. “Apparently.”

Lola wandered causally in Syber’s direction. Let the fun and games begin.

Quinn yanked Lexi away. Subtle much? I folded myself into a chair by the dying fire. The scent of smoke tinged with hickory brought back fond memories of sitting in the backyard with my dad, roasting marshmallows until they collapsed from my sharpened stick. He’d always give me his, then set himself up for another. I didn’t have many fond memories of my dad, but I cherished the few. Growing up with my grandma had given me a wealth of happy things to think about, to make up for the darkness

Kalvyn tossed a log into the charred remains, forming a small cloud of ashes and red embers floated.

“You’re really tense.” Mentally, I smacked myself. Of course he was. Wouldn’t I be in his shoes? If he was wearing any.

“I apologize,” he replied. The fall of his bangs escaped his ear and concealed his expression. His tone gave nothing away. He finished his blue drink and crushed the plastic cup.

“Not what I meant. It’s just that...” I trailed off.

He faced me. “What?”

“You were laid back all day, and now you won’t be.” Because of Bianca. Because I was here.

“Kalvyn, may I speak with you?” Syber called, face shadowed by Carmen’s tent as he knelt, one arm in front of him, hand splayed on the dirt. The line of his body seemed to defy rationale, the pose striking a chord inside of me. For a too brief moment, I had the impression of a wild animal ready to bolt.

“Sure.” Kalvyn bit his lip. “Katrina…” He stopped, shook his head, and walked away.

Lola bounced to my side, a firecracker of excess energy. “Changes nothing.”

“What doesn’t?”

“His ex being here and all. He still wants you. Every time you look away, all shy like, his lip curls into a downright primal smile. All territorial like. So hot.”

Kalvyn and Syber paused in their conversation. They both glanced at Lola. Although Syber’s stare was searing.

I smirked. “Could you say that any louder? I don’t think people at the lake heard you clearly enough.”

“Yeah, I can totally yell it, so the whole mountain can hear. Want me to give it a shot?” she teased.

“Please refrain yourself. Besides, whether he ‘wants’ me or not, it doesn’t matter. I have a three-date rule, remember?”

“Oh, don’t give me that crap. How many times in your life has this,” she waved around dramatically,” happened? If you don’t, you’ll regret it.” Then in a softer voice. “He doesn’t know, Kat. You can be yourself, without the baggage holding you down.”

I ignored the reference. “I don’t have sex with any guy for the bare minimum of three dates, and most guys don’t make it to three dates.” I held fast to my rule, not because it made a difference. But it made me feel as if I’m in control. When I’m so rarely given the option, regardless of how much I fought.

“Vacation. Look up the definition in my book of awesome dictionary words. Learn it, love it, live it.”

“Yeah, of the fun variety, not to be confused with naked Twister.”

“Oh, I should’ve brought that game!”

I groaned, rubbing my face. “You’re incorrigible.”

“But you love me.”

“I do. Despite that all your thoughts run from your mouth before they’ve made it all the way through your brain.”

She shrugged. “It’s why I’m so fun. I’m a go with the flow kinda girl. Or maybe I am the flow, and everybody else goes with me.”

“You’re certainly a whirlwind of hyperactive activity.”

“Hey, I think I should resent that.”

“But you don’t.”

She chugged her mystery drink. “Nope.”

As if on cue, Syber and Kalvyn broke their huddle. En masse, people flocked to the fire, occupying chairs, a fallen log, or lounged on the dirt.

For what seemed like a few scant moments, we laughed and compared notes on movies we’d watched, listened to all flavors of music, singing along all the while.

I’d given up on the party juice, accepting my fourth beer. The alcohol had gone through my body and mind with a pleasant numbing sensation.

The sun sank behind the mountains, creasing the sky with strips of oranges and burnt crimson that all too soon faded into deep sapphires and violets. One by one, stars twinkled into existence as the remnants of the day bowed out. The sheer brilliance of night is what kept me near the mountains. The fat moon was nearly full. The rays of soft light reached down for us. The humidity clung to the forest, even after sunset.

Lola sat in Syber’s lap, giggling at Quinn’s childhood stories. Carman got on Roman’s case about a lost bet. Several people had attempted to engage me in conversation, but over the course of the past several hours, my mind had turned inward, as I had a habit of doing.

Kalvyn’s back rested on my chair leg, listening to the others, occasionally one of us making small talk before we fell back into a semi-comfortable silence. Little did I know that would come to an end with one simple question.

“So, Syber’s your cousin?” I asked