Free Forever Blue by Abby Wilder Page B

all-girls school, so I pretty much missed anyone with balls." The dart flew soundly into the first number and she let out a grunt of triumph. The crumbs I thought I had swallowed, tickled my throat and I spluttered. "Come on now, Judah," she said, her eyes blazing with amusement. "Don't tell me that without me around, you developed a shock reflex. I see I've got my work cut out for me." She threw the next dart and it hit the wall before falling to the ground. "I'm over this," she said, turning away. She took my hand and pulled me out the door, finishing the last of her beer and throwing the bottle to the ground. It bounced on the wooden floor but didn't break. "Dance with me," she yelled over the music.
    People danced lazily, bottles in hand and eyes glazed. If you could call it dancing. It was more like group heaving. Even though I could probably name each person that was there, I didn't feel like I knew any of them.
    I shook my head but did little else to protest as she led me to the centre of the room and wrapped her arms around my neck. Her eyes gleamed, and for a moment, I simply closed my eyes and inhaled her scent. She smelled the same. No boarding school could rid her of that. It was a combination of daffodils and something medicinal, or chemical-like. I didn't know what it was, but it was all Cara. I barely took notice of the people stumbling in time to the music around me. She was all there was. She chattered in my ear happily. I missed most of what she said, as the music drowned out her voice, but still, I smiled and nodded and laughed when she laughed. Around Cara, I could be the person I wanted to be, not the person I was.
    "Why haven't you been back to school?" I yelled into her ear.
    She pulled away but still kept her hands locked about my neck, her thick eyebrows rising high. "I needed a few days."
    "An entire week?" My voice was rough and I had to strain to be heard over the thud of the bass.
    She wriggled her eyebrows and laughed. "I start back Monday." She didn't say anything more and I didn't ask. Cara and school had never had a great relationship. It had something to do with her aversion to rules. I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did at the boarding school. It wasn't exactly known for its relaxed policies.
    The music changed and Cara, still holding onto my hand, pulled me away from the centre of the room. She pinned me against the wall and fished her hand into the pockets of my jeans.
    "What are you looking for?" I tried to ask casually, but my voice was a little high pitched due to the proximity of her hand on my thigh.
    "You got a smoke?" She extracted her hand and looked at me expectantly. "You've changed where you stash them."
    I pulled out a cigarette and lighter from my jacket pocket and handed them to her. Cara was a secret smoker, a fact that she hid from her parents. Most things Cara did loudly and proudly but her mother hated people smoking, even though Cara's father did, so Cara hid it from them both. I remember the first time she stole one from her dad while he was distracted in the workshop. We ran into the forest, certain that he would notice and come chasing after us. She had the first puff. She inhaled and held her breath, her eyes watering, fighting back the urge to cough, and then held the cigarette out to me. I couldn't hold back the urge like she did and coughed and spluttered until I wanted to be sick. That made Cara finally release her breath with a smoke-filled laugh that got lost in the trees. We shared the cigarette, puff by puff until it burned down to the filter. I hated every toxic breath, but Cara didn't. She loved the way it left her lightheaded, the way it burned her throat. She laughed a lot that day, so I became a smoker just to watch her laugh. I wasn't addicted to the nicotine. I was addicted to her.
    "Not in here," she admonished, taking the cigarette and lighter.
    "I didn't think you cared what other people thought?" I said as I followed her outside after she had