The Bone House - Brian Freeman [5]
She took a long time to realize who he was, but then she offered him a teasing smile as she recognized him. 'You,' she said.
'Hello, Glory. Are you OK?'
The girl ignored the question and hummed to herself. 'Did you follow me here?' she asked.
'Follow you? No.'
'I bet you followed me. That's OK.'
'Where'd you get the wine?' he asked.
'You want some?' She looked at the bottle and realized it was empty. She overturned it, and a few red drops sprinkled on to the sand. 'Shit. Sorry.'
'You shouldn't be out here,' he said. 'Let me take you back to the hotel.'
Glory wagged a finger at him, and her torso swayed unsteadily. 'Tresa wouldn't like that, would she? Seeing you and me together. Troy wouldn't like it either. He gets so jealous. If you want to do it with me, we should do it right here. Do you want to do it with me?'
Mark's body tightened with anxiety. He knew he shouldn't be here. He had to get away before this got worse, before anyone saw them together.
'Come on, let's go,' he told Glory. 'I don't want you on the beach alone. It's not safe. You've been drinking.'
'What's the problem? You'll keep me safe, won't you? You're big and strong. No one's going to mess with you.'
He reached for her arm, but she spun out of his grasp. He ran a hand back across his short hair in frustration. 'I'm not going to leave you out here by yourself,' he said.
'So don't leave. Stay. I like being here with you.'
'It's late. You should be in bed.'
Glory grinned and stuck out her tongue at him. 'See, I knew that's what you wanted.'
'You're drunk. I don't want you hurting yourself.'
She hummed again. The same Billy Joel song. 'Tresa saw you on Friday, you know.'
'What?'
'She saw you and Hilary in the auditorium. That's why she choked. She was really upset. She couldn't concentrate knowing you were there.'
'Not winning isn't the end of the world.'
'Yeah. I know.' Glory didn't look distressed by Tresa's failure. Her face had a drunken brightness to it, as if she was drowning her sorrows. 'Hey, I read a poem once that said the world would end in fire.'
'Robert Frost,' he said.
'You know it? Oh, yeah, duh, English teacher.' She looked at him like a broken toy. 'I mean, you used to be. Tresa felt bad about what happened.'
'Let's go, Glory.'
'Tresa never thought they would do anything like that.'
'We should get back to the hotel.' He put his hand out.
Glory took his hand in hers, but then she slid a damp arm around his waist. Her face came up to his neck. She tilted her chin toward him. Her breath smelled of alcohol, and her white teeth were stained darker by the wine. 'Kiss me.'
He reached round to his back to disentangle himself. He looked over his shoulder toward the hotel again and felt an uncomfortable sensation, as if he was being watched from the darkness. Or maybe someone was testing him.
'Stop it.'
'Tresa says your lips are soft,' Glory whispered.
Mark pried her hands away from his body. He took an urgent, awkward step backward in the sand to separate himself. When Glory reached out to hold him, she was too far away, and she stumbled and sank to her knees. Her stringy brown hair fell across her face. Her skin was pale, and he saw disorientation in her eyes.
'Are you OK?' he asked.
Glory didn't say anything.
He squatted in front of her. 'Glory?'
She looked up at him. Tears streaked down her face. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. On her knees, crying, she looked like a pretty, lost girl again. A typical teenager with blemishes on her forehead. A kid pretending to be an adult. He reached to touch her shoulder but pulled his hand back, as if her skin would be on fire.
'What's wrong?' he asked. 'Why are you out here by yourself?'
'I don't want to