Page 67 of Savage Heart

“Nothing will be in your way then. Not school or distance . . . or Lincoln.” He tilts his head. “You know Lincoln always has a different girl. Going with Iris is easy, no pressure. He’s made it clear he wants out of Ironwood, so he’s not gonna do anything to get tied down. Don’t you worry.”

“You think so?” I ask.

“I do.”

I nod and blow out a long breath. “Okay,” I say. “Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

“Now go pick up your date, and let’s get some pretty pictures.”

I laugh. “All right.”

I’m having the hardest time being subtle when all I want to do is stare at Iris. She’s across the gym, her blue dress catching the light every time she moves. She’s swaying in Lincoln’s arms, head tipped back, laughing at something he says. Her hands are in his, like they belong there.

Because tonight, they do.

Breathe.

Lincoln looks stupid good in his suit. He always does. He moves effortlessly, and when the DJ switches songs, it doesn’t even faze him. He twirls Iris, and they look like they’ve done this forever.

Christa stands beside me, smoothing her dress. I shouldn’t have asked her. She deserves better than a distracted guy who has no desire to dance.

“Let’s get a picture together,” Christa says, pointing at the backdrop where a photographer is set up.

“Sure,” I say, and we walk over there.

“Group picture?” Lincoln says, after the photographer snaps one of Christa and me.

We squeeze together—me, Christa, Iris, and Lincoln. Flashes go off. Iris glances my way, smiling, and I try to just be normal. A song comes on that Lincoln loves, and he and Iris go back onto the dance floor. Christa and I claim a table near the wall and then dance during a few songs.

I hear whispers about the spiked punch, and eventually, the four of us make our way to the table and look at it suspiciously.

“You think it’s really spiked?” I ask.

“Only one way to find out.” Lincoln grins.

“I’m not drinking that,” Iris says flatly.

“Come on, you never drink. You can at least try it for one night. It’d be better if you try it with us than off with your new college friends.”

The thought of that makes me cringe. “He’s right. We’ve got you. We’ll look out for you.”

She smiles at me. “Okay, maybe I’ll try a little bit.”

It’s sweet and burns a little on the way down. Iris coughs when she tastes hers and laughs it off when Lincoln claps her on the back. Lincoln and I have drunk before, but Iris hasn’t.

“You okay?” I keep asking.

“Yep,” she says, giggling more and more.

One cup turns into two. Then three. I lose track somewhere between a fast song and Lincoln and Iris dragging me onto the dance floor, yelling something about living a little. Christa dances with Frank Norwood, and I see them making out in the corner before the lights start to blur. My limbs feel heavier, then not entirely connected to me.

Lincoln’s getting louder and doing goofy dances, and Iris and I laugh so hard. Iris holds on to my arm, and then I’m holding on to her when she sways. It turns out to be the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

When the night starts winding down, I find Christa near the exit.

“My brother is here to take us home,” I tell her.

“Would you be mad if I get another ride?” she asks.