Henry’s concerned face. Tate’s angry fists. Shelly’s confused eyes. Fireworks set the backdrop and I watch them burst into the black sky from over Henry’s shoulder. Accusations fly, with the words ‘dose’ and ’how much’. Henry keeps checking my eyes. All I know is they’re ruining my night and I want them to stop. I want to dance and have sex. I want to strip off these clothes and pull down Henry’s pants, but the expression he wears stops me. Decisions are made and during the grand finale of a gazillion fireworks, we leave. Heavy bass echoes against the houses as we pass celebrations in the night. Henry’s got me in his arms, carrying me because my legs stopped working somewhere near the big Greek letters in the yard. It’s okay with me though, because I can see his face this way. His eyes are stormy. I run my hand down his jaw. “You need to shave.” He ignores me, but I don’t care. I’m focused on how everything feels sticky and wet.
