The last thing I needed right now was a scene. "Guys, come on--"
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"Oooh. I'm so scared." Gage set his drink down. "You think I'm scared of you, freak? Let's go."
"At least I'm not pathological," Josh retorted.
"Well, maybe it just hasn't been diagnosed!"
Another shove. Even trash-talking was more sophisticated at Easton. Bigger words, subtler insults.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dash walked over with his hands raised and lowered them onto Gage and Josh's shoulders, with me in between. The man had a serious wingspan. "This is supposed to be a party. Everyone mellow out."
"Mellow out? What have you been smoking?" Gage said, still belligerent.
"Nothing. I'm just saying, what's there to fight about? All our friends are here, we've paid our tribute to Pearson, and day after tomorrow we'll be home gorging on the best food of the year," Dash said, leaning back against the wall next to Gage. "It's all good."
"Speak for yourself, dude," Gage said. He took a step back from Josh. "Somehow I don't think my mom's new Venezuelan cook is going to know how to work a turkey."
Subject officially changed. Josh's shoulders uncoiled and Gage seemed to have already forgotten he was about to tear someone's head off. Dash was good. Not for the first time, I appreciated his maturity and levelheadedness. He never stooped to join in with Gage's random mockery and insults and was always able to defuse awkward situations. Plus, he'd managed to be in a solid relationship
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with Noelle for three years--an achievement in and of itself. I saw politics in his future.
"Thankyou," I mouthed to Dash. The last thing I could handle just then was a pummeling between supposed friends. I'd already had enough drama for one semester. Dash nodded in response. I looked out at the dance floor and waited for my heartbeat to return to normal.
"Has your mother ever hired an American?" Dash asked Gage.
"Mara Coolidge? Champion of the should-never-be-employed? No," Gage said.
"Well, I will be eating a nice home-cooked meal at my grandmother's manse," Dash said, glassy-eyed at the prospect. "Turkey, cranberries, stuffing, the whole nine."
"Oh, you are so the all-American boy," Gage said, reaching out to pinch Dash's cheek. "What about you, new girl?" Gage asked. He walked over to the nearest table and sat, legs spread. We all followed, Dash and me sitting between Josh and Gage, just in case of a relapse. "What's turkey day like in Bumblefuck, Pennsylvania? Turkey roll and Bud from a can?"
Love this guy. Love him.
"Dude, back off," Josh snapped.
"Josh," I said. Like, Calm down already. I appreciated the effort, but I could take care of myself. "Actually, I'm not going home," I told them. "I'm staying here."
'You are?" Josh asked. His eyebrows shot up under his curls. "So am i."
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Really? This was an unexpected and pleasant development. A warm sensation prickled over my skin. I was actually going to have a friend here. Someone to eat with. Someone to talk to. And not just someone, but Josh. The two of us. Here alone. With no one to watch us or judge and comment. Suddenly, the long four-day weekend was looking much better.
"What?" Dash and Gage blurted at once. "Come on, man. The Hollis Thanksgivings are legendary," Dash added.
Josh tore his eyes away from mine and cleared his throat. I hid a smile by suddenly becoming very interested in the dance floor and fluffing my hair alongside my face.
"Not this year," Josh said, leaning into the table to better see Gage and Dash. "My parents are stuck in Germany so the kids are going to my aunt's house on the Cape and Lynn's gonna be with his girl. Neither one appealed, so--"
"So you'd rather stay here," Gage said incredulously. "Alone."
Under the table, Josh's fingers grazed mine. My heart spasmed and I turned my hand palm up on my thigh. Josh took it, cupping my fingers with his. The flush started at my wrist and shot straight up my arm and throughout my body. I tried my hardest not to smile.
"Yeah," he said with a smirk, squeezing my hand. "Alone."