Put It Out There. D. Graham R.

then we’ll dance—or you’ll dance and I’ll try not to look like an idiot.”

      I laughed and relaxed a little for the rest of the drive. He was chatty, and there was no lull in the conversation once we were both feeling more comfortable. The party was at a huge house in Squamish to celebrate the nineteenth birthday of a girl who had gone to our school. Her name was Brandi. I didn’t know her that well, but Steve’s sister was her best friend. He’d known her most of his life.

      The house was already packed with people when we arrived. The band hadn’t started playing yet, so music cranked out of a stereo system. I spotted Sophie in the corner, setting up the extension cord for her mic. “I’ll be right back.” I squeezed Steve’s hand, then walked over to Sophie and shouted in her ear, “Kill it!”

      “You know it!” she yelled back. “How’s it going with Steve?”

      “Okay.” I tucked my hair behind my ears.

      “Uh-oh, only okay?”

      “We got off to a rough start because he asked if my dad wanted to meet him.”

      She inserted the mic into the stand and adjusted the angle. “What a moron. Did you start bawling?”

      “Yes.”

      “What did he do?”

      “Nothing. Trevor was there, so he gave me a big hug and went to get my granddad.”

      Sophie’s lips curled into a sympathetic pout. “Trevor is so sweet.”

      “He takes his big brother duties very seriously.” I dropped my purse and cardigan next to the drums with Sophie’s bag.

      “Do something bold with Mason if you get the chance. You need to make a move.”

      “No. I’m not going to hit on a stranger. Even if I wanted to, I’d have no clue how to do that.”

      “Ask him to dance.”

      “I’m technically on a date with someone else, remember?”

      She waved her hand dismissively. “Steve’s just a pawn. Keep your eye on the prize.”

      Although chess was something I happened to be good at, I wasn’t interested in being the type of person who played with people’s feelings. I glanced around the party, feeling way out of my element. “I should probably get back to Steve before he thinks I ditched him.”

      “Don’t forget you’re on for the last song of the first set.”

      “No. Dirty Deri is not making an appearance tonight.”

      “Have a few drinks, she’ll show up.” She laughed and shoved my shoulder. “Go back to your date. It’s not going to kill you to have some fun.”

      I exhaled and walked back across the room towards Steve. He was with his sister and Brandi. They laughed. He smiled uncomfortably as if they had just teased him a little.

      “Happy birthday, Brandi,” I said as I tucked in next to Steve.

      “Thanks Derian. So you and Stevie, eh?” She pinched his cheek.

      I didn’t know if it was supposed to be a question or a statement, so I just smiled.

      Steve cleared his throat and said, “Derian, this is my sister Giselle.”

      I sort of knew her from school. She used to be a cheerleader, but I had never formally met her before. I extended my hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you.”

      “How do you like Stevie’s new hairstyle?” She giggled as she held his chin and turned his head from side-to-side to show off her handiwork.

      “I think it suits him.”

      “See! I told you,” she shouted and shoved his chest, way too hyper.

      “Okay,” Steve said as he shooed her away. “See you later. Sayonara. Adios. Bu-bye.”

      Giselle and Brandi laughed at him, then wrapped their arms around each other and staggered away into the crowd as the band took their positions. Doug stepped up to the mic and Sophie sat down at the drums. She normally sang lead, but she played the drums for their opening number. Doug yelled in his deep, raspy punk voice, “Hit it!” The guys in the band stood in wide guitar stances with their heads hung and played in synchronization while Sophie pounded out the beat. The crowd went mental and slammed into each other in a mosh pit. Doug killed it and then passed the mic to Sophie for their second song, which was always Joan Jett because Sophie could make her voice sound awesomely raw like Joan’s.

      “Do you want to dance?” Steve asked.

      “Sure, the next one they play is one of my favourites. It’s a punked-out version of Joel Plaskett Emergency’s old-school classic “Nowhere With You.” Do you know it?”

      “No, but if you can just jump around to it I should do all right.”

      Steve was a not bad dancer and, surprisingly, I was actually having a good time. We danced for at least five songs before taking a break, and I didn’t even mind when he rested his hand on my waist as we walked off the dance floor.

      “Do you want something to drink?” he shouted over the music.

      Although Sophie suggested that a drink might help, I wasn’t a drinker. I tried a sip of my dad’s beer once, just to see what it was like. I didn’t like it, at all. Plus, I preferred to have all my faculties at my disposal, so I said, “Water would be great. Thanks.”

      Steve nodded before he headed towards the kitchen, maybe slightly disappointed that I didn’t want to get drunk. Or maybe he didn’t care. I couldn’t tell. I leaned my back against the wall and looked around. Trevor and Murphy were on the other side of the room surrounded by a group of girls. They were always surrounded by a group of girls, but as far as I could tell, Trevor wasn’t dating anyone. He noticed me and tipped his glass. I waved at him, but then tucked my hair behind my ears and turned my focus towards the kitchen.

      Steve held two bottles of water while he talked to Lisa Alvarez. She arched her back and flipped her long brown hair to flirt with him, the same way she acted with every member of the male species. I never understood why someone as pretty and smart as Lisa felt the need to be sleazy to get attention. I probably should have felt jealous, but I assumed she had a shitty home life or something, so I actually felt sorry for her. Steve chatted away with her, maybe oblivious to her tactics, or enjoying them.