Crossing the Line by Simone Elkeles
After Psyclones is done with their set, the place goes dark again and the energy in the room picks up a notch in anticipation of Shadows of Darkness.
"Can we leave now?" Pablo asks. "I think that girl over there with the spider tattoo on her face just grabbed my ass. I feel violated."
I raise a brow. "Violated?"
"Did you take a look at her? Dude, I'm afraid of spiders. Can you imagine kissing her and opening your eyes to a giant spider tat up close and personal?" He pretends to gag. "I wouldn't be complaining if we were standing next to those hot Latinas you pointed to on the other side of the stage."
"Then let's go," I tell him, but before we can push our way over to the other side, bursts of colorful flames appear and Shadows of Darkness is on the stage.
Atticus Patton is at the foot of the stage, holding the microphone tightly.
"Yo, Texas!" he screams at the top of his lungs and the crowd goes wild.
The drummer starts playing a beat and then Atticus starts singing "Chaos," a song about a guy whose mind races at night with random thoughts.
My head starts bangin' and my world starts shakin'. Atticus's voice rises above the fast beat of the music.
As if the song inspires the crowd into chaos, suddenly everyone clears a spot in front of the stage and a mosh pit forms with guys who are willing to get bumped and pushed around. It doesn't scare me. It's more like a challenge. I'm immediately tempted to get in the middle of the chaos.
Chaos!
What the fuck is wrong with me, these thoughts of mine don't let me be.
Chaos!
I nudge Pablo and gesture to the mosh pit. He takes one glance at the crush of fans violently bashing into each other and his eyes go wide. "Hell to the no!" he says.
When the crazy comes out, that's when I'm free!
Fuck the rules, fuck society!
"We're going in," I yell to Pablo over the pounding music.
He shakes his head, but in that instant, someone pushes him into the mosh pit. I shove my way in there, too, thriving on the mass of people just letting go. Atticus Patton is right. To hell with convention and rules. Who cares about the danger. Life is about being crazy and losing your inhibitions.
Pablo goes from being cautious to laughing as he gets jostled from one end of the sweaty mosh pit to another. We're a bunch of stupid, crazy guys, taking it to the brink of danger. This mosh pit is not for the weak-hearted, but as I glance into the center of the pit I notice a girl is tossed in the fray.
The girl with the blue streak in her hair.
Oh, shit.
This isn't good. She bumps into a guy and is practically catapulted into the air on contact. She's got to be terrified with guys twice her size crashing into her.
Someone's got to save her, and while my motto is "fuck being a hero," I'm not about to watch a girl get hurt or killed because some idiot decided to shove her into a mosh pit.
I rush through the rowdy crowd, heading for the girl before she gets trampled on.
It's time to play the hero for once.
Six
Dalila
The people in the mosh pit are sweaty and loud. They're jumping around like they're being electrocuted.
And I'm loving it!
This was worth sneaking into my house and grabbing my passport without permission.
Atticus Patton is screaming the lyrics as if he wants the entire state of Texas to hear him . . . and Mexico, too. I was watching the mosh pit from the sidelines, but then I decided to join in the fun. At home I play the perfect daughter. Here, I can be anyone. I'm getting tossed around in the chaos, but it just makes me feel free and wild.
Until I'm halted by an iron grip on my waist. Suddenly I'm whisked out of the pit by some jerk with rock-hard biceps and a solid wall of a chest.
What the--
When he sets me down I whip myself around and am met with the bluest eyes I've ever seen. A satisfied smile is plastered on his perfectly chiseled face. What does he think, that because he's cute he can pick me up like I'm some rag doll?
He leans down and says loudly, "You can thank me later."
Thank him? "For what?" I yell over the music.
"Saving you."
A chuckle escapes my mouth. Saving me? Is he kidding? I'm so annoyed my first instinct is to chastise him in my native language. "I don't need saving, pendejo!" I declare with irritation laced in my voice. "I can take care of myself, Mr. America."
He just stands there as if he's suddenly frozen in time.
Not wanting to miss more of the fun, I push past him and fling myself back into the mosh pit. Atticus is singing the next song, one about celebrating your uniqueness called "This Is Me."
This is me, I'm not gonna change for you.
Take me as I am or I'll find someone new.
Being flung from side to side somehow releases all the stress I've been feeling lately. Stress from my parents to make the right decision on my future, stress because I don't know if I can meet their expectations, stress because I want to make up for Lucas not being here anymore to ease their pain.
Suddenly they start singing "One Night in Crazy." I close my eyes and try to remember what it was like in the car with my brother. I remember him always tapping the dashboard as if he was playing drums and encouraging me to join in. Between songs, he used to tell me about his hopes and dreams of becoming a doctor. He wanted to help others who couldn't help themselves. I took on that role after he died.
One Night in Crazy was all it took,
You stole my soul with just one look.
When the song ends, I leave the pit and head for the bar area. "Hey," a dorky guy with short-cropped hair and a round face says to me. "This concert is insane!"
"It is," I agree.
He leans down. "I'm Skyler," he yells in my ear so loud my eardrum starts ringing. He's got short legs and his stocky build reminds me of a cartoon character.
"I'm Dalila."
I'm bobbing my head to the music as I wait for the bartender to come over so I can order something to drink. My mouth is so dry I'm seriously tempted to reach across the bar and chug water directly from the tap.
I wave at the bartender but there are so many people crowding around he doesn't notice me. Ugh.
"I've been trying to get a beer for five minutes," Skyler says. "Can I buy you one?"
I shake my head and point to my hand, the one that doesn't have an OVER 21 stamp on it. "Just a Coca for me," I tell him. "If the guy ever comes over here."
Craning my neck, I see Soona at the other end of the club talking with the same guy she's been chatting with for the past twenty minutes. Her eyes are bright and attentive and she laughs heartily at something he says. She's definitely having a good time.
Demi is catching the attention of the Shadows of Darkness guitarist, who's smiling down at her from the stage like she's a goddess. He probably thinks she's going to be some groupie that'll go backstage with him, but he'll be sorely mistaken. Demi might be a major flirt, but she's not into one-night stands or hookups.
Skyler taps me on the shoulder. "Here," he says, handing me a clear plastic cup. "Coke, right?"
I nod and take the drink from him. "Thank you."
"Do you live around here?" he asks.
"Not really."
"Me, either." He takes a swig of his beer, and then I feel his hand on the small of my back. I take a small step away from him to create some distance. "I drove down from Nevada with some of my frat brothers. We're staying at a hotel around the corner."
"Cool." As I lift the cup to my mouth, that guy with the blue eyes who rudely whisked me out of the mosh pit rushes up to me and bats the Coca out of my hand. It flies in the air and the contents splash all over me.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I yell, then look down at my drenched outfit.
"Yeah, man," Skyler says, puffing up his chest like a peacock ready for a brawl. "She's with me."
Before I can blink, Mr. America's fist connects with Sk
"Are you insane?" I yell at Mr. America as I clumsily push him away.
"He slipped something into your drink," Mr. America says in a calm, steady voice.
"What?" I glare at Skyler, who's still on the ground. "Did you?"
Skyler's eyes are wide now as he presses his palm to his reddening cheek. "I didn't put anything in your drink! I swear!"
"Dude, I fucking saw you!" Mr. America grabs Skyler's collar and pulls him up. "Stay here," he growls through gritted teeth. "I'm calling security."
Panic settles in my chest as I look over at the security detail. Oh no! I recognize one of them as Gerardo, a bodyguard who my papa hires for parties and corporate events. I can't be questioned by him. What if he tattles on me to my father that I crossed the border without permission? I'll be in so much trouble. As soon as Mr. America turns to summon security, I put my hand over his mouth.
"Don't do that," I tell him.
He pushes my hand away. "Why not?"
"Because it's not a big deal."
"It's not a big deal that he was about to drug you?" he questions.
"Forget it."
With our attention diverted, Skyler runs through the exit doors and disappears.
Mr. America swears under his breath. "Looks like you don't know how to take care of yourself as much as you think you do," he tells me.
I poke my finger into his chest. "You need to--" I stop talking because out of the corner of my eye I see Gerardo pushing through the crowd, heading toward us. Onlookers are circling us now, soaking up the drama that just unfolded.
I'm trying to find a way out of this mess and to ditch the attention, but it's no use. A uniformed officer is blocking my path. He's a big guy with sharp eyes and a pointy nose.
"What's going on here?" he asks in a gruff voice.
"Nothing." I grab Mr. America's hand and lean into him to shield my face from Gerardo. "Right, baby?"
"Right," Mr. America replies in a monotone voice.
The officer lingers for a minute. In an attempt to urge him to leave, I rise up on my tiptoes. Praying Mr. America plays along, I bury my hands in his thick hair and touch my lips to his. I'm determined to make this make-out session look convincing.
Instead of repulsion, the touch of his soft but firm lips against mine sends delicious sensations zinging up my spine. I've kissed boys before, but I've never felt goose bumps all over like this. It feels too nice and comforting. It's obvious this boy is not an amateur in the kissing department.
When we come up for air, his eyes are locked on mine. I'm barely aware that the officer is gone and Gerardo's attention is elsewhere. I clear my throat and let out a long, slow breath to make my heart stop racing from that amazing kiss. For a second I forget where I am, until I hear Atticus singing again.
Death is knocking at my door,
Don't you come around no more.
"Isn't this convenient," a girl with bright red hair snarls at us. She eyes our hands that are still entwined. "Just a little piece of advice," she says to me over the music. "He only does one-night stands. In the morning this loser will dump you and never look back."
Mr. America takes his hand from mine. He looks less than thrilled to be in this girl's presence. "Mikayla, we're not--"
"We're not a one-night stand," I interrupt him, then grab his elbow affectionately. "Because we've been dating for two months and we're planning on going to college together."
Before he can respond, Mikayla laughs heartily. "College? Ha! That's a good one." With her giggle still lingering in the air, she leaves us to join a bunch of her friends witnessing our interaction.
"Now we're even," I tell Mr. America as I take my hand off his arm. "You saved me from that guy who spiked my drink and I saved you from that mean girl."
"You're wrong," he says in a husky tone. "I helped you hide from that security guard over there and distract the cop. It's obvious you're hiding from the law. Are you considered armed and dangerous?" he teases.
I push my shoulders back and stick my chin out, attempting to project an air of confidence. I'm trying not to focus on his soft, full lips that were on mine a minute ago. "You don't know what you're talking about. I'm not hiding from anyone."
He leans on the bar stool and crosses his arms on his chest like he doesn't have a care in the world. "Then why'd you kiss me?"
Come up with something quickly, Dalila. "I thought you'd be a good kisser," I tell him, then add, "but I was wrong."
With that, I turn on my heel and weave through the crowd. My heart is thumping as fast as the beat of the music. When I find Soona, she's still talking to that same guy she's been attached to all night. "Dios mio, are you okay?" she asks in a worried tone as I find a spot next to her. "Your clothes are soaked! And your face is all flushed."
"I'm fine," I lie. I'm beyond embarrassed that my heart is still racing from that kiss. "I just need some air."
Seven
Ryan
I was on my way to the bar when I saw the dude at the bar slip something into her drink. I practically shoved everyone out of my way so I could get to her before she chugged it. Instead of making sure the jerk got arrested, she protested. It was obvious when I waved security over that she was hiding something.
Then she kissed me.
I've kissed my share of girls before, but those full, sweet lips woke something in me that I thought was dead a long time ago. Maybe it's this place and the crazy concert. This entire night has been surreal.
I glance across the sea of people and see Pablo waving me over. When I manage to get closer to him, I realize my mistake. Pablo is talking to the blue-striped-haired girl and her friends.
I settle next to them but immediately feel all eyes on me.
"Who are you?" her friend asks as if I'm intruding on their private discussion
"It's cool," Pablo tells her. "He's my friend. Ry, this is Soona and her friend Dalila." He points to a girl a few feet away. "And that's Demi."
The girl with the blue-streaked hair, Dalila, won't even look at me when Atticus starts singing "Lost but Not Forgotten." It's like I've suddenly turned invisible.
You may be gone, you're far away.
God's angel, don't let me go astray!
Memories of you will never leave,
This heart is yours every day I grieve.
"Dalila, are you okay?" her friend Soona asks her.
Dalila shrugs. "This song reminds me of Lucas." She swipes at her eyes. "I need to get out of here," she says.
Pushing past us, Dalila heads for the exit.
"Dalila, wait!" Soona calls out, but Dalila doesn't turn back. After flashing an apologetic glance at Pablo, Soona rushes after her friend.
"I forgot to ask Soona for her number," he tells me.
The last thing I want to do is be accused of stalking the chick. "I'm not following those girls."
"Come on, man." Pablo puts a hand on my shoulder. "You're my wingman. You're my crew. You're my--"
"Fine. Just get her number and we're out."
He raises a brow. "What's the problem, Hess? You don't want to talk to her friend Dalila? She's cute."
"Not my type," I blurt out.
"What is your type?"
I glance at the girl with the spider tat on her face. "That."
He laughs. "Arachnid Girl? I don't think so."
Outside, we see all three girls standing by the streetlamp talking to each other. Soona smiles wide when she eyes Pablo. I'm standing here with my hands in my pockets trying to act cool. The attempt doesn't go smoothly, especially when Mikayla Harris walks by with her group of friends and sneers at me.
When I look up, Dalila's eyes meet mine. I immediately look away and tap Pablo on the shoulder. "Let's go, man," I tell him. "Now." I'm not about to have Mikayla call me out in front of everyone.
After Soona and Pablo exchange numbers, Dalila whisks her friends away from the venue. But just because the girl is out of
"I'm glad you made me go to Shadows of Death tonight."
"Shadows of Darkness," I correct him.
"Whatever. I might have met the girl of my dreams," he says. "Soona was great, wasn't she?"
"Sure, man. Whatever you say."
"Maybe you can date one of her friends." His eyes light up. "Wouldn't that be cool?"
"No. Get out of the car."
"You liked that girl with the blue-streaked hair," he says. "I saw the way you were lookin' at her. I haven't seen you look at any girl like that."
"You don't know what you're talking about. I think you had too much to drink tonight."
"I didn't have anything to drink, man." With an amused laugh, Pablo steps out of my car and I head home. This entire night was like a Shadows of Darkness song--chaos and a total mess.
In the morning, Paul confronts me the second I step foot downstairs. "Where are you going?" he asks. He's wearing his uniform, but I don't know if he's even working today. The guy would sleep in it if he could.
"The gym," I tell him.
"He thinks he's Muhammad Ali," pimply Allen calls out in a nasally voice as he sits on his ass in the family room. The kid hardly moves off the couch and his diet mainly consists of sugar and processed foods.
"Yeah," PJ chimes in.
I don't even respond, because I don't need to get into it with them. Especially in front of Paul. "Where's my mom?"
"Out," Paul says. "Come into the kitchen, Ryan. I need to talk to you." I hear the thud of his shoes on the hardwood floor as he walks into the kitchen.
I follow him into the kitchen and lean against the counter.
"Sit down," he orders. I can tell this little meeting isn't going to be fun. "I got you a summer job," Paul says. "At the Johnsons' farm. You'll be working in the fields and cleaning up after their cattle."
"I'm not working at the Johnsons' farm," I tell him.
"Yeah, you are. I already confirmed it," Paul says as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Five days a week, five in the morning till two in the afternoon."
Is he kidding me? Paul got Allen an internship at his uncle's law firm and PJ is going to be working at the police station with him. He gets me a job shoveling shit all summer. "Somehow you think you can just boss me around and I'll be okay with it," I tell him. "I'm not."