Ivy Leaves Journal of Literature & Art — Vol. 86

F I C T I O N 41 “Out here? In front of everybody?” she asked. “What will people think?” Her eyes widened.

“We’ll never see any of them again,” I said.

We pushed through the crowd towards the windows. Rain continued to pelt against the glass. We could hear thunder start to sound outside— beating like drums to lead us on.

I placed my left hand just above Kaylene’s hip, and I could sense her straighten her back, like she was bracing herself for a rough ride. I began to move gently, intertwining the fingers of my right hand with the fingers of her left as we outstretched our arms. We started slowly, simply swaying back and forth, back and forth.

She laughed. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I think people are staring.”

She was looking around at the people walking by, her eyes darting around nervously.

“Let them look,” I said. I wanted them to—to look at me with Kaylene.

We began to spin around, and I could see our reflection dancing in the glass of the window. Water washed down over us, like we were outside in the middle of the storm, dancing underneath the downpour. We were so close to the window I could only see us against the darkness outside.

Everyone else blended together.

I looked at Kaylene. Her face was turning red. Surely she wasn’t out of breath already.

“Well,” she started, a brief chuckle escaping her lips, “The sooner you twirl me, the better.”

I let go of her hip as I raised her arm up. She spun around, gracefully, effortlessly. Her head leaned back, and her hair flowed freely as she moved.

When she finished, I moved my hand farther around, towards the small of her back. Her muscles tensed as I was trying to draw her closer. Finally, I would feel Kaylene against me.

But she pressed her free hand to my chest, firmly. She stopped me.

“I think that’s far enough,” she said.

I didn’t understand. How could she not want me to pull her closer?

She must have seen my expression: “This is going somewhere it shouldn’t.”

No it wasn’t. It was going right where it needed to. I said, “You don’t want to do this? But, you said it’s a gesture.”

She sighed, pressing the bridge of her nose between her thumb and finger. “Yeah, but I also said it’s just a good time. Didn’t you hear me say that to the bartender?”

“But, we can have a good time,” I said. “I want to have a good time with you.”

Kaylene smirked, and a laugh escaped from her mouth. She began walking back to the bar.

I followed behind: “Wait. Please wait.”

But she didn’t. When she reached our seats, she gathered her purse.

“Can’t you just listen?”

“No, Cal. There’s nothing to listen to.”

“But, there is.” I reached out to her, but she smacked my hand away.

She grinned and placed her hand on her hip. Her eyes scanned me