“We don’t have much time. The manager will probably show up soon to look at the mess. Luckily, the store is huge.”
River sprinkles pepper on his salt smiley face to make it look like it’s sticking out its tongue, and I can’t help but giggle—silently, of course.
Suddenly, a wonderful tingling sensation washes over me, a mix of fear, agitation, and fun. It’s like the shaking after my fall, but this time, there is no sorrow. It’s a rush of adrenaline and happiness.
You can be someone else. And for a reason I can’t explain, I’m suddenly no longer afraid of getting caught. River knows what he’s doing. Besides, he also knows what he can risk! On impulse, I put the tip of the bottle to my lips and sip from the bottle. The champagne tingles like fizz on my tongue, like butterflies in my stomach. It’s so wonderful that I down several sips.
“Tucks, I can’t believe this!” River stands in front of me, staring with his hands on his hips. “Are you seriously drinking in public? You’re lucky that’s allowed in Wyoming, damn it!Although, you do realize that’s alcohol… and you’re not twenty-one.”
I look from him to the bottle in my hand and back again, stunned. Oh God, he’s right! Not about my age or the alcohol, but that I drank at all! There’s laughter that desperately wants to come out right now. I feel the waves pulsing inside me, but the fear of letting it out is like a wall blocking it. Everything would change, and there would be no going back. I would no longer be separated from the world, which could possibly crush and destroy me.
I drink more, as if I want to drown the loud laughter.
River watches me, but suddenly, his gaze glides over my shoulder.
“Holy shit!” he curses and puts his sunglasses back on. I turn and see two security guards and the men in cowboy boots at the other end of the aisle.
“There they are!” someone shouts, amazed, and the next second, they rush toward us.
River grabs my arm, and we run in the opposite direction. Maybe we have a significant lead, but there are four of them. My newfound fun turns into a mixture of high tension and panic.
“Let’s split up. You two go that way; we’ll go this way.”
We reach the end of the supermarket and stop. There’s a deli counter as long as two trucks. Behind it are the refrigerators with gallons of milk, and in front of them is the pyramid of watermelons.
“Stop!” growls one of the men behind us. River snatches the champagne bottle out of my hand and gives me a shove. “Run to the other side!”
As I reach the melons, I notice two employees in the middle aisle. They charge head-on, and two others appear on the other side of the market.
“Game’s over!” a man from the staff shouts, a big bear with a baton on his weapon’s belt. His red-haired colleague who approaches me reminds me of Chester.
For a moment, I freeze. The familiar feeling of helplessness catapults me straight back to my high school. The moment when I give up and just wait for it to be over. I can’t do anything anymore. They’ve surrounded us, we’re trapped. I glance frantically from side to side.
“The boy first!” someone shouts behind River. “Take it easy, my friend, and nothing will happen to you.” One of them stretches out his arm to grab him.
I get hot and cold. These men will call my dad. I may never see River again! He might actually jump off the Lost Arrow Spire at the end of the summer, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Suddenly, the thought is unbearable. For a split second, I imagine him falling into the depths, past sharp rocks, his arms outstretched like wings, his blond hair windswept, and a smile on his face.
With trembling hands, I reach for one of the lower watermelons.
“Don’t do anything stupid, girl!” the security guard with the baton on his belt shouts.
My heart is pounding, but I see no other option. “Let…” With a hard tug, I pull the melon out of the perfectly constructed work of art and instinctively throw my arms over my head. Projectiles like heavy medicine balls thunder down on me, and I’m pushed around by the weights like I’m hitting school lockers.
People yell as the tower of watermelons slides like an avalanche through the supermarket. Some of them burst on impact, making cracking, smacking noises like gigantic dinosaur eggs breaking.
When the watermelons stop attacking me, I check on River, but I lose my balance and tumble into the pulpy chaos androlling fruit. Someone resolutely grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet.
River!
“Hurry!” I look around for the shouting men, who are somewhere in the melon chaos. One of them is fighting his way through a few onlookers, while another is lying on the ground. A crowd has also formed in the middle aisle, which is exactly where River is heading. “Lesson number four; mix with other people,” he gasps breathlessly in my ear. He raises his hand and divides the crowd like Moses parted the sea. It’s incredible how everyone always does exactly what he wants. He must also impart a certain fascination for others and not only because of his appearance. The mob swallows us in its midst. We are like Jonah in the belly of the whale.
River gently pushes me forward. “Did you see that?” he calls out to the people. “Those kids these days!” An older man wearing sandals and tennis socks merely shakes his head, unsure we’re responsible for the commotion. The man with the dreadlocks, who was staring at me in the beginning, stands out from the crowd, and our eyes meet for a second. I don’t know why—maybe because I’m feeling wound up, panicked, and cocky—but I smile at him. Bemused, he blinks but then grins.
I don’t know the last time I did that, if you don’t count River. I was probably five years old!
Without noticing, River has pulled me into the clothing department. “That was great, Tucks.”
I blush, and, at first, I think he means the smile. My heart is still pounding in my throat, and I feel dizzy, which could also be from the champagne.
