He glances over, his eyes homing in on me. “I can taste it on the end of the joint.” Bringing said joint up to his lips, he takes another hit before adding, “Tastes good.”
My chest tightens at that, my throat going dry.
Josiah chuckles, passing it back to me, but he doesn’t look away. In fact, his gaze drops to my mouth as I inhale. My heart races under the weight of his stare, my mind going a mile a minute.
Is he flirting with me?
Surely, that can’t be right.
We finish the joint, saying our goodnights, before I head back up to Lana’s room. I can’t shake the idea that Josiah was flirting with me. What would that mean if he was? It’s what I wanted, right? It’s why I wanted to spend time with him today. Then why does the thought of him possibly reciprocating how I’ve been feeling terrify me so much?
5
JOSIAH
Ishould go home and shower first. It’s unusually hot today, and I’ve been working out in the unrelenting sun all day. I probably smell like sweat and oil, but there’s deodorant in my glove box, and the chances of me leaving my house if I stop by there first are slim to none. Besides, I don’t have time. I’m already running late.
Pulling into the fairgrounds parking lot, I give the lot attendant some cash and he directs me where to park. Once I turn off my truck, I grab my phone, finding Lana’s contact and bringing it to my ear. I’m meeting her and Segan here for the fair tonight.
Thinking back to this time last year, Lana and I were hanging out at least once a week. She’d come over to my house after school or on the weekends, we’d go hiking together and watch movies. I’ve always had a close relationship with my niece—much closer than anyone else in my family. Us being so close in age probably plays a big role in that. But I’m realizing the last few months, we’ve barely spent any time together.
She doesn’t answer my call, her voicemail picking up. I find Segan’s contact and give him a try. Unlike Lana, he picks up after two rings.
“Hey, man. You here?” he asks, the sound of a crowd and carnival rides in the background.
“Yeah, just parked. Tried calling Lana, but she didn’t answer.”
“Her phone’s dead. I’ll meet you out front.”
I hang up, ambling across the large gravel parking lot, toward the entrance to the grounds. By the time I get there, Segan’s already waiting for me. He’s alone.
“Where’s Lana?”
I don’t miss the frown or the hard set of his brows. “She saw some friends here. She was chatting with them when you called.”
“Like from school?”
He shrugs as we turn to head inside. “Fuck if I know. I’ve never seen them at school, but she’s been hanging out with them quite a bit lately.”
Segan and I, on the other hand, have been hanging out quite a bit lately. On the weekends, he’s usually at my place while we work on cars together. He’s even getting a little better. Not good enough that I’d ever trust him withmycar, but he at least knows his way under the hood.
The sun’s starting to set, painting the sky with gorgeous pastels, blanketing the entire fairground in rich, warm hues. People of all ages are strolling around, riding rides, eating food, chatting. A lot of people I know from living in town, people from the church I don’t attend, but also, a lot of people I don’t recognize. It’s a county fair, so people from the surrounding towns are here as well.
I don’t have to worry about running into my folks here, or any of my family, really. None of them would be caught dead at an event like this.
Segan and I walk side by side for a while, before finally running into Lana and the group of friends she’s with over by the Tilt-A-Whirl. She sees me and squeals, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug. She reeks of cheap beer and pot, and when she pulls back, I take in her bloodshot eyes and hooded lids.
My eyes drift over to Segan, and I notice his eyes are a little bloodshot too, but that’s not unusual. I know they smoke weed together. Hell, I smoke weed with Segan from time to time.
“Uncle Josiah!” Lana squeaks. “I’m so glad you came. I want you to meet my friends.” She spins, introducing me to all three of the girls she’s with. All looking three sheets to the wind, just like her.
One of them—Brittany or Tiffany or some fucking basic name—comes up and gives me a hug when Lana introduces her, which is a little weird. Made weirder when she says right beside my ear, “You don’t look old enough to be Lana’s uncle.” Giggling, she pulls back, and I have to fight the urge to cringe.
Glancing over at Segan, he’s rubbing a hand over his mouth like he’s trying to conceal a laugh as he holds my gaze. He must’ve heard her. I give him the finger.
The next couple of hours drag on as Segan and I basically follow Lana and her girlfriends around, occasionally riding some rides and playing a few games. Had I known she was bringing friends, I wouldn’t have come. My ideal Friday night is not hanging out with a gaggle of sixteen-year-old girls.
Although, what does it say about me that, as of lately, my ideal Saturday afternoon is hanging out with a sixteen-year-old guy. Well, it sounds creepy when I put it like that. And in my defense, Segan doesn’t act or seem like an immature teenager. Not that I’m old or anything; I’m not even twenty for another few months.
