I'll Be Here

eyes. 
    Girls and boys for that matter, if Lance Snyder can’t get your pulse racing then you might as well hang your hat because you’re done.  Seriously.  I was all clumsy tongue and wide eyes yesterday when Laney first introduced us.  According to Laney, he has that effect on most people.  She says it’s a common phenomenon known as a Lance Attack. 
    We park and pass a group of clucking girls in short skirts on our way into the club.  One girl has streaks of bright purple running through her hair and all three of them are wearing lace-up black combat boots.  I look down at my jeans and my classic button down and feel incredibly self-conscious, but Laney tugs my hand and we surge forward in and out of the swaying bodies to get to the front of the crowd.  
    Lance is much less intimidating tonight ever since he began his hilarious and bitingly accurate running commentary on each and every person that passes by us.  
    When he takes my hand and pulls me to the dance floor I am momentarily dazed.  But then I decide to just let go because I know that dancing with Lance is just dancing and pretty soon I’m coated in a thin sheen of sweat and our bodies are a tangle of pumping limbs and skin.  A tall guy with dark hair and wispy facial hair leans in towards us and whispers something in Lance’s ear.  Lance cuts his eyes to me and then tips his head back and laughs out loud. 
    “What?”  I ask.  My stomach tightens.  Somehow I know that whatever the guy said is about me.
    Lance turns me into his chest.  “That guy just asked me how I got with the most beautiful girl in here.”
    I look around confused and Lance’s smile broadens.  “You Willow!  He means you.”
    I just shake my head in embarrassment. 
    Laney’s dancing next to us with a guy she knows from her job at the music store.  Lance leans over and talks into her ear with his hand cupped over his mouth. 
    She spins and smiles broadly.  “Did you tell him that you score chicks easily because of your manly physique and your in-depth knowledge of silkworm reproductive habits?”
    Lance laughs again.
    I look over Lance’s shoulder but the dancing crowd has sucked my admirer away.  “That guy needs to get his eyes checked.”
    Lance’s eyebrows lift.  “And you need to look in a mirror girlfriend.”
    I roll my eyes but my cheeks flush with warmth from the compliment.
    Halfway through the first band’s set, Lance gets pulled away from us by a cute boy with longish hair and sleepy eyes. 
    Laney and I twist our way through the crowd to order two sodas from the bar.  Laney makes me laugh just like she did when we were kids.  Around ten o’clock her friend gets on the stage and she’s as good as Laney said she would be.  At one point she breaks out a harmonica and does slow version of the Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy in the UK.”  It’s bizarre, but it completely works.
    We pull up to my driveway just after midnight.  Lance found another way home so I am in the front seat now.  The light from the front porch shines through the windshield and creates an eerie line of shadows on our bodies.    The whole drive home, we’ve had the music from the car stereo turned up to ear-splitting loud, and now my throat is dry and scratchy from singing and laughing.
    Laney reaches forward and turns the volume knob down so that we are engulfed in a new quiet.  Her dark head is resting back against the headrest.  “I had fun tonight.”
    It’s a bit of a surprise when I expected to be in mourning, but the truth is that I had fun also. 
    “Me too,” I say.
    She fingers her earlobe and turns her head so that she’s looking at me.  “You know, I never should have let you not be my friend.  It’s not healthy for either of us.”
    I can’t help but laugh.  “Laney, I don’t think that I exactly gave you a choice.  I know that I made it difficult.” 
    A wave of seriousness takes over.  This part is harder to say and I have to clear my throat twice before continuing.  “I d—don’t think that I was really myself back then and I know that I apologized the other day, but I want to make sure you know that even though I acted like a bitch, I missed you.  I really did.”
    “I missed you too.”  She sighs heavily and threads her fingers back through the steering wheel.  “And the thing is that I knew that you weren’t being yourself.  Willow, your mom…”
    “I can’t blame everything on the stuff with my mom.