Tara Kelly - Harmonic Feedback

She put her hand on my knee. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” The warmth of her hand reminded me of our kiss, something neither of us had mentioned since it happened.

Roger sauntered up to us and tossed his backpack on the cement. “What’s up?”

“Lunch is half over. Where the hell have you been?” she asked him.

“Got held up by my math teacher.” He nodded at me. “What’s up, Drea? You dump that loser?”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend in the first place,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow at Naomi, but she shrugged. “Guess it was just a fling,” she said.

Roger leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “Scott got some killer bud last night. It’s in my car.”

“Sweet. Let’s go.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me with her.

I held back. “I-I don’t—”

“Come on!” Her hand tightened around mine.

“But I don’t want to go anywhere. We’ll be late for—”

She rolled her eyes. “Chill, Drea.”

Naomi and Roger scanned our surroundings as we walked around the side of the main building. Our shoes sank in the muddy grass.

“How long will this take?” I asked.

Instead of answering, she jogged after Roger toward a row of evergreen trees. They ducked behind the low branches, but I could still see Naomi’s rainbow laces and Roger’s dirt-smeared tennis shoes. The wet grass was like ice under my boots.

“Hurry up, Drea! You’re gonna get caught,” Naomi hissed.

Each step made me teeter to the left or right. I held my arms out for balance and took short, fast steps until I reached the trees. Then I dove under the branches and inhaled deeply. The air smelled like maple syrup and cigarette smoke.

A few students stood in the shade of the evergreens. Kari and Casey leaned against a trunk, narrowing their eyes at Naomi. Lipstick-stained cigarette butts smoldered near their feet. Kari met my gaze and leaned into Casey, whispering something. Both girls laughed, high and shrill.

“Ignore them,” Naomi said, leading me through a break in the trees.

We passed a lip-locked couple—all tangled fingers and soft laughter. I wondered how that felt.

Roger’s car was cream colored and shaped like an egg. The inside reeked of stale ashes and engine oil. Mom had a car like his once—even the brown upholstery was the same. Like cheap bath towels.

Roger reached over Naomi’s knees and snagged his green pipe from the glove box. Then he pulled out a plastic baggy filled with what looked like herbs.

“Ooh, that looks good.” Naomi grinned.

“Yeah, it’s real smooth.” He stuffed a pinch into the pipe and shoved the baggie back into the glove box.

“Good, because Scott’s been getting bunk lately.”

“You’re still hanging out with Scott?” I asked. The contents of my stomach crept into my throat. Why did she insist on hanging out with these guys?

“He might’ve dropped by last night.” She smiled wide and took the pipe from Roger.

He squinted at her. “He hooked up with Kelly this weekend, you know.”

She bit her lip, shrugging. “So? He already told me.”

“He was scoping out Drea on Saturday too.”

“And he told me he was totally joking.”

I swallowed hard and focused on the motor oil bottles below my feet. “Didn’t sound that way to me.”

“Do you buy everything he tells you?” Roger asked.

“Yeah, he said you’d say that too.” Naomi thrust the pipe in front of me. “You get to do the honors, Drea.”

“No, tha—”

“Why are you so into him?” Roger spoke over me.

Naomi rolled her eyes and wiggled the pipe at me. “You smoking or not?”

I took it from her, letting the cold metal sink into my palm. She settled back in the front seat and gazed out the window.

“Hey, there’s Justin,” she said.

“Where?” I asked, scanning the parking lot.

“In his fancy car. He’s, like, taking a nap or something.”

Justin’s black BMW was two cars down, facing us. He had his seat reclined, and his head bobbed slightly—like he was lost in a song.

“Do you think he smokes?” Naomi asked.

“Yeah, right,” Roger said. “He’s got Momma’s Boy written all over his sorry ass.”

“Shut up. He’s nice,” she said.

He shook his head at her. “Is there anyone you don’t want to bone?”

“Yeah— you .”

Roger shifted in his seat and drummed his hands against the steering wheel. “Whatever.”

Naomi slapped my knee. “Come on—use it or lose it, babe.”

“You go first,” I said, handing it back to her.

She stuck the pipe between her lips and ran the lighter over the end. Her face turned bright red before she finally blew the smoke out. The pungent odor stung my nostrils like Mom’s overheated coffee.

“Nice.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She squinted at me when I hesitated to take the pipe from her. “Why do you look so freaked?”

“I don’t know.” I took the pipe and the lighter from her. The warmth of the metal burned into my hand this time. Naomi and Roger watched me with half smiles—as if they knew I had no clue what I was doing.

And then the bell echoed from the school. “We should go,” I said, dropping the pipe in Roger’s lap.

“Watch it,” he said.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “You got time for a toke, hon.”

My throat tightened and my chest felt heavy. All I wanted to do was get out of that car. I fumbled with the lock, but the door didn’t budge. “Let me out.”

“Uh— you locked it,” Roger said, shaking his head and clicking it open again.

“What’s wrong with you?” Naomi asked.

“I can’t breathe in here.” I shoved the door open and flung my backpack over my shoulder.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Naomi said.

I slammed the door shut and weaved through the parked cars. The drizzle had thickened into a soft rain, making me shiver. I was about to make a run for the school when someone grabbed my elbow and pulled me behind an SUV.

“Hey”—Justin spun me around—“it’s just me.”

I sucked in my breath and tried to break free, but he tightened his grip on my arm.

“Do you not see security standing about fifty feet away?” he asked.

I peeked around the rear of the large silver vehicle he was leaning against. A man and woman in blue rain jackets stood at the parking lot entrance. The man spoke into a two-way radio, and the woman began walking in our direction.

“She’s coming,” I whispered.

“Shit, I hate closed campuses.” He slipped his hand into mine, leading me around the front of the SUV. I wondered if he’d been to as many schools as I had.

Rain tapped the hood of the car, drowning out the sound of the woman’s footsteps. We squatted down beneath the headlights. Justin’s cheek was only a couple inches from mine, but somehow it didn’t feel close enough.

“What now?” I asked, my heart racing in my chest.

He put his finger to his lips as the sound of heels passed us by. I peered around the side of the SUV. The security woman moved slowly, glancing at the spaces between the cars. I looked back at Justin. Droplets had formed on the tips of his eyelashes, making them look even longer.

He met my gaze. “You smell like a concert.”

“So?”

The beep of a two-way radio echoed nearby. “All is clear on my end,” the woman said.

The radio crackled again, and a man’s voice broke through. Most of his words were too distorted to make out. “Okay… check the… and bathrooms.”

The hissing of the radio and her footsteps faded into the distance. Justin peered over the hood and stood up.

“They’re gone,” he said, ruffling his wet hair.

I used the bumper to hoist myself up, but my shaky legs made me stumble back.