Shine - Lauren Myracle [72]
Beef was out there with him, both of them sitting in lawn chairs and sipping moonshine from mason jars. Aunt Tildy thought they were too young to be drinking, but Daddy let them, so Aunt Tildy couldn’t do a thing about it.
I was out there, too, sipping lemonade. I tried to make a case that I deserved a glass of shine, too, since I’d be turning fourteen in two months. I wasn’t a kid.
“The hell you ain’t,” Christian said. “And quit asking, ‘cause the answer’s no.”
I didn’t care. I just liked being with them. We were shooting the breeze and watching the fire, Beef telling me jokes that made lemonade come out my nose, when Tommy roared into our drive on his blue BMW R1200C, the make and model of which I knew because he bragged about it so much. Not a ding on it, and no doubt worth more than our house.
He did a power slide into the dirt yard and stopped a few yards from our chairs, his rear tire pointing our way. Then he clamped the front brake and cranked the throttle, spraying a rooster tail of dirt and grit on the flames. Some got on us, too, with Beef getting the worst of it.
“What the hell?” he cried, grabbing the metal arms of his chair and scrambling out of Tommy’s range.
Tommy laughed and cut the engine. The smell of motor oil hung in the humid air.
As Tommy toed down the kickstand, Christian said, “Hey, bro. You might want to park your Beemer somewhere else.”
He was offering friendly advice. He didn’t want Tommy’s fancy motorcycle that close to the burning shed.
But Tommy didn’t like being told what to do. “Don’t get your panties in a wad,” he said. “How long you think I’m gonna be here?”
It was a put-down, but Christian didn’t take the bait.
“Well, pull up a chair, man,” he said, and Tommy did. He grabbed a lawn chair and slung it down between me and Christian, and I giggled, because I thought Tommy was cute.
Christian poured Tommy a jelly jar full of moonshine, which Tommy accepted, drained, and held out straight away for a refill. I held my lemonade out and asked for a splash, too. Christian didn’t bother to respond.
The guys talked, and I listened. I felt shy around Tommy, that was why I clammed up.
After a while, Aunt Tildy came outside and said hey to the boys. She turned to me and told me to go put on my graduation dress, which she’d bought months earlier because it was on sale.
“Why?” I said.
“To make sure it still fits.”
“But why now?” I didn’t want to leave.
“’Cause I’m fixin’ to make jam, and once I get the berries boiling, I’ll have to stand watch over them.”
“But—“
“Don’t you backtalk me,” she snapped. “Your ceremony is next weekend. If the dress needs altering, I gotta know.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, wishing she hadn’t shamed me in front of Tommy.
I went inside to change. When I came back out, Beef whistled. I smacked him on the head. I liked the attention, though. Of course, I did.
Then Aunt Tildy said, “Oh, Cat,” like I’d done something bad. She was looking pointedly at my chest, so I looked too. There were buttons down the front of the dress, and the cloth gaped open between them. My breasts had grown, that’s why. I could see the dark of my nipples, and how the fabric strained over them. I supposed this was bad in terms of having to let the dress out, but I didn’t yet know to be ashamed.
“What?” I said.
“You had to go and grow you some bubbies, didn’t you?” she scolded, and all the boys laughed, including Christian.
Then I knew. I blushed, though I don’t think Aunt Tildy meant to embarrass me. I realized Tommy was staring at my chest, and it made me feel tingly in a strange and particular way. I crossed my arms over myself, pulling my shoulder blades in to make a C-curve out of my spine.
Aunt Tildy remained clueless. In her mind I was still a little girl, and Christian