Bittersweet by Shewanda Pugh Page B

… startling?
    Alyssa cleared her throat and motioned with a hand for Edy to get on with it. Mason snickered. With the feel of a doltish calf, Edy went into her arms.
    She hugged hard, stronger than anything expected from a girl so slight, and she held on tight as if promising the best parts of a beautiful friendship.
    “I worried about you,” Alyssa said. “I wrote you on Facebook, but…” She drew away, eyes scolding. But with the scold, Edy saw something else. Forgiveness in the same light. No wonder Mason teased and played. No wonder he ran back and forth, in and out of their relationship. Impatience spiked quick in Edy. He’d better treat her right, she thought.
    Alyssa released her to squeeze Hassan’s arm in greeting. “Hey, twenty-seven. Got a touchdown left in you?”
    “Maybe one.” Hassan smiled.
    The wind whipped up just then, reminding Edy that lounging in glacial conditions wasn’t fun. When Alyssa and Mason headed indoors, Edy and Hassan decided to follow.
    More hellos and claps on the back came as classmates shouted over the music and fist pounded her in greeting. Their sudden interest weirded her out, as if she were the freeway wreck to gawk at. She’d known and seen these people her whole life and they’d never shown an interest in her.
    “Cake?” They’d gone as far as the couch, pasted with girls in blinging bracelets and skinny jeans, before Hassan pulled her aside. “You okay?”
    Yes. No. Maybe.
    Relief came with the sight of Lawrence and Chloe. The hugs came a little easier this time, even between Chloe and Edy. Not much small time for small talk passed before the twins transformed into, well, the twins.
    The wild hoots and fist stabs in the air came first, followed by shouts to turn the music up, way up, way way up, as no one could stop their party. Pretty soon, the blinging girls were off the couch, much to Lorenzo Carpenter’s grinning, hand rubbing delight, and everyone had picked up the chant.
    “With the music this loud,” Hassan shouted into Edy’s ear, “it seems like we should move something, right? Before the police show up, I mean.” He held out a hand to Edy.
    Her fingers laced with his and they crossed the floor together as the music suddenly throbbed. It boiled and thumped and turned sensual, back beat heavy and begging. It begged with a bounce for grinding bodies and sweat the way only club rap could.
    Hassan grabbed her waist and pulled her in, so that the two cinched together. The moving happened in time with the music, barely there, barely obedient, but making it happen because they had to. Coarse presses of the body rendered to an absolute beat. Shots of heat, feverish heat. Was this dancing? She wrapped an arm around his neck, more for balance than for anything.
    She said his name. No, she thought his name. Then his lips found hers in a nibble, a lick, a teasing little bite. Edy gripped him by the hair and crushed his mouth to hers. A touch of cool skin meant he’d found the hem of her shirt.
    So, breathing. It went in out in, right?
    Their foreheads fell together with a thump.
    “Turns out we’re bad at this,” Hassan said. “Dancing together, I mean.”
    Edy grinned. “That and remembering we’re in public.”
    She pivoted just enough to see the gawkers with their knowing little smiles. Then there were the Dyson twins with eyes like thunder, both trained on Hassan.
    “You have enemies waiting for you,” Edy teased. She touched Hassan’s face. “Don’t look now, but the twins are on to us.”
    Hassan’s brows danced. Behind him a freshman wideout sloshed while balancing half a dozen plastic cups of tapped beer against his chest. More girls replaced the ones formerly sitting on Lorenzo’s couch. Undoubtedly, this guy sought to hydrate them all.
    “I have it on great authority that the twins have been on to us for awhile now,” Hassan said and kissed her nose. “They’ll bring it up later, when we’re alone, and argue the strong points of