The next song began to play and a different boy appeared behind America, his friend dancing next to me. After a few moments, my new dance partner maneuvered behind me, and I felt a bit unsure when I felt his hands on my hips. As if he’d read my mind, his hands left my waist. I looked behind me, and he was gone. I looked up to America, and the man behind her was gone as well.
Finch seemed a bit nervous, but when America raised an eyebrow at his expression, he shook his head and continued dancing.
By the third song, I was sweaty and tired. I retreated to our table, resting my heavy head on my hand, and laughed as I watched yet another hopeful ask America to dance. She winked at me from the dance floor, and then I stiffened when I saw him yanked backward, disappearing through the crowd.
I stood up and walked around the dance floor, keeping my eye on the hole he was pulled through, and felt the adrenaline burn through the alcohol in my veins when I saw Shepley holding the surprised man by his collar. Travis was beside him, laughing hysterically until he looked up and saw me watching them. He hit Shepley’s arm, and when Shepley looked in my direction, he shoved his victim backward onto the floor.
It didn’t take me long to figure out what was going on: they had been yanking the guys that were dancing with us off the dance floor and threatening them to get them to stay away from us.
I narrowed my eyes at them both and then made my way to America. The crowd was thick, and I had to shove a few people out of my way. Shepley grabbed my hand before I made it to the dance floor.
“Don’t tell her!” he said, trying to subdue his smile.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Shep?”
He shrugged, still proud of himself. “I love her. I can’t let other guys dance with her.”
“Then what’s your excuse for yanking the guy that was dancing with me?” I said, crossing my arms.
“That wasn’t me,” Shepley said, quickly glancing at Travis. “Sorry, Abby. We were just having fun.”
“Not funny.”
“What’s not funny?” America said, glaring at Shepley.
He swallowed,
shooting a pleading look in my direction. I owed him a favor, so I kept my mouth shut.
He sighed in relief when he realized I wouldn’t rat him out, and then he looked at America with sweet adoration. “Wanna dance?”
“No, I don’t wanna dance,” she said, walking back to the table. He followed her, leaving Travis and me standing together.
Travis shrugged. “Wanna dance?”
“What? Megan’s not here?”
He shook his head. “You used to be a sweet drunk.”
“Happy to disappoint you,” I said, turning toward the bar.
He followed, pulling two guys from their seats. I glared at him for a moment, but he ignored me, sitting down and then watching me with an expectant expression.
“Are you gonna sit? I’ll buy you a beer.”
“I thought you didn’t buy drinks for girls at the bar.”
He tilted his head in my direction with an impatient frown. “You’re different.”
“That’s what you keep telling me.”
“C’mon, Pidge. What happened to us being friends?”
“We can’t be friends, Travis. Obviously.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to watch you maul a different girl every night, and you won’t let anyone dance with me.”