The Bitterwine Oath

by Hannah West

  “We’re so proud of your hard work,” Dad said, and gave me a hug. “Wow! Look at that tour bus! Riley Carson must be a big deal!”

  I followed his gaze and found Levi talking to a gorgeous girl with hair like a stream of strong coffee. She wore a lace crop top over a high-waisted skirt that flattered her dense, volleyball-player build. If my heart hadn’t just dived into the depths of my belly, I’d probably be awestruck by Riley. But seeing her and Levi perched together on the steps right outside her bus sucked the sparkle right out of the star sighting. There was no way of knowing, but they looked like they could have just emerged together. Levi said something that made her laugh and she shoved her hair behind her ear.

  The two stood in close enough proximity that I could too easily imagine his sturdy arms encasing her, her fingers tangling at the nape of his neck, the space between them diminishing. The thought stung like a fresh blister. They’d met at college, where there were no parents, no curfews, no rules about who could be in whose room when.

  A fellow volunteer named Tina approached, looking frenzied and windswept despite the lack of breeze. “Nat, I hate to ask one last thing of you, but could you help load in the opening band? We’re falling behind schedule.”

  “Sure thing,” I replied, wiping tangy barbecue sauce from my fingers with a wet nap and saying a quick goodbye to my parents. I hurried toward the temporary dance pavilion, where a plaid-clad foursome of guys was struggling to get ready for their sound check while obviously distracted by Riley’s presence. Like the festival organizers, they understood that this event was small potatoes compared to other gigs she could be playing tonight.

  Jumping into the action, I rolled an amp case from the back of a van and was about to heave it onto the stage when another hand covered mine. I recognized the rusty freckles and caught a blast of woodsy-fresh cologne.

  “Can I get that for you?” Levi asked. I looked up—I always had to look farther up than I expected—and met his amber-flecked eyes under the string of lights crossing the pavilion, warm against descending dusk.

  “I’ve got it,” I said, and lifted. It took some elbow grease, but I managed.

  “Will you get a break anytime soon?” Levi asked, leaning his hip against the stage. His brow was furrowed, his expression enigmatic.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “I’d like to talk when you get a chance,” Levi said, his voice low and gentle, like you’d talk to a wounded animal. I could already guess why he wanted to chat: as a gentleman, he felt obligated to spell out that he and Riley were dating, especially now that I had seen them together.

  I’d thought clearing up the misconception about my being a Warden would solve everything between us. Now, I realized the truth. My family legacy wasn’t the only thing keeping us at a distance. I had been nothing but a short-lived, shiny distraction, a hometown heartbreak hit-and-run.

  And I didn’t need to hear him say it, even if he was just trying to do the decent thing. I didn’t need to be pitied and coddled. He didn’t owe me anything.

  “I can’t right now,” I said stiffly. “I’ve got to help tear down the booths.”

  That was a lie, and besides, I was pretty tuckered out. But Levi didn’t need to know that.

  Someone kicked up the house music to take the pressure off the opening band. It blasted through the speakers and coaxed the waiting crowd onto the dance floor. Our friends started coupling off.

  “Save me a dance, then?” Levi asked. My gaze traveled briefly over his fresh-shaven chin, and his slight, involuntary frown that made any breakthrough of joy twice as fulfilling to see.

  “Okay,” I agreed, despite myself.

  Riley sidled up before I could escape. “Hey there!” she said, her gray eyes shimmering.

  “Riley, this is Nat, my friend from high school,” Levi explained. “She helped put the festival together.” Friend was a stretch, but I slapped on a smile and rolled with it.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” I said brightly. I could have gushed about what an honor it was and how much I adored her music, but I left it at that.

  “I’m happy to be here, and to see this guy.” She nudged Levi’s ribs, a playful, intimate gesture, and turned back to me. “Thank you for working so hard to put this together!”

  Of course, she had to be magnanimous, too.

  “Your hair is gorgeous,” she said to me. “What shade would you call it?”

  Levi cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Um…dirty blond?” I tried, fearing this was some kind of inside joke or a quiz that I was failing.

  “No, it’s prettier than that,” she mused, pursing her lips to one side, then the other. She shot Levi an oblique look. “It’s more like honeycomb blond.”

  “That sounds better,” I agreed. Usually, I could suss out when someone was being disingenuous, but I couldn’t get a read.

  “One dance before I warm up?” she asked Levi. She stood with her hands on her hips, long, dark curls cascading down her shoulders, daring him to refuse, knowing he sure as heck wouldn’t.

  “You know I’m not great at it, but all right,” Levi said, his large hand enveloping hers. Over his shoulder he called back to me, “Don’t forget!”

  Right. The talk. As if this situation needed any clarification, let alone three minutes’ worth of it. But Riley had already led him to the middle of the dance floor, and she was entwining her fingers at his ruddy nape, just like I’d pictured.

  I exited the tent and marched through the crowd that had been summoned by the music, only to bump right into Emmy. Avery squealed my name and gave me a fierce hug. Her dress was covered in grass stains and she smelled like bug spray.

  “I’ve missed you, you little cutie patootie,” I said, squeezing her. “Are y’all having a good time?”

  Avery nodded emphatically. “We fed the goats!”

  “We just came from the petting zoo,” Emmy said, brushing Avery’s hair away from something sticky on her face. “Have you seen my brother, Nat?”

  “He’s in the pavilion.”

  She craned her neck to look. “Is he dancing?” She laughed. “I’m just glad he’s having fun. Today’s the anniversary of our dad’s passing. I thought I should check on him before we go, but it seems like he’s doing fine.”

  “Emmy, I’m so sorry,” I said. I felt guilty for judging Mrs. Langford’s churlish mood earlier, and for being short with Levi.

  Emmy waved me off, her hazel eyes moistening. “We made a huge pancake breakfast this morning and fished in our pond out back. That was his favorite thing to do as a family.”

  “That’s really nice,” I said softly.

  “Anyway.” She wiped away a tear and took Avery’s hand again. “I’d better get her home. See you later, Nat.”

  The band was finishing their rushed sound check when I turned back to the pavilion, my heart heavy. Levi and Riley gathered around a picnic table with the twins, Grayson, Bryce, and a handful of juniors. If I were to leave now, it would be with my dignity intact. It would show Levi that I didn’t need an explanation from him.

  But part of me wanted to stick it out and stay. My jealous imagination might be more ruthless than reality. Besides, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let any thorny feelings for Levi complicate my social life. Even though the summer had gone to hell in a hand basket for other reasons, I could at least keep that promise.

  My truck was parked behind the courthouse, a quick jog away. I rummaged through the duffel in my floorboard and found a clean change of clothes, including a fresh bra and a cute black top with an overlapping slit that revealed a triangle of skin at my lower back. The console was a treasure trove; I found a stick of melted travel deodorant, stale mints, and a tube of mascara. I ducked down to change before crawling up to the mirror to make myself semi-presentable. Unfortunately, there was no alternative to the boots.

  The opening band was in the middle of their set by the time I returned. Levi was dancing with
Abbie. Riley huddled with her band by the stage, preparing for their set. She was probably used to waiting in a fancy green room stocked with snacks, though her manager had only requested meals and water.

  On my way to sit between Faith and Grayson, I was intercepted by Ryan Ashland, my truant chemistry partner from junior year. He swilled from a plastic cup that I suspected was full of beer, his eyes already red rimmed. “Hey, Nat,” he said, swaying. “Wanna dance with me?”

  “Maybe later,” I said, knowing he wouldn’t remember. He saluted with his cup and let me off the hook.

  I circled the table and swung my leg over the bench. “There you are!” Faith said. “You cleaned up quick.”

  Grayson’s blond hair flopped over his forehead as he turned his flirtatious energy in my direction. He often did that when Lindsey wasn’t around to intercept. “You’re gonna dance with me next song, right?” he asked, hanging an arm over my shoulder.

  I reached for a sip of Abbie’s Diet Dr Pepper across from me. “I suppose I can tolerate you for that long.”

  “That’s what a guy likes to hear,” he said, pumping his fist. Faith snorted into her soda cup.

  In my peripheral, Levi brought Abbie twirling back, laughing goofily. His actual friends got to experience that side of him: easygoing, fun, openhearted. It was like they had a secret access code, while I haphazardly punched keys, hoping the system wouldn’t lock me out.

  The seating configuration changed as we rotated partners. The band started another cover song, and a grin crossed Faith’s face. “I love this one!”

  “Well, let’s go then!” Bryce said, beckoning her out. Abbie and Grayson coupled off, leaving Levi and me alone at our table, catty-corner, both of us watching the band.

  A minute of the song went by. Then the first chorus came and went. Just when I thought he was chickening out, he turned to me and jerked his head in the direction of the dance floor, a question on his face. I nodded.

  As I followed behind him, his hand quietly found mine, sending a jolt of aching glee through my every nerve. He led me to the few feet of space we could find among the packed bodies and turned to face me.

  I could feel him drawing in a breath as he resituated my hand in his grasp, then opened his left hand across the small of my back. Thanks to the cut of my top, his palm splayed smooth and warm against my skin as he guided me into our first steps.

  He’d said he wasn’t good at this, but he kept the rhythm just fine and brought me back close and snug after each twirl. I was more aware of my hand resting on his firm shoulder than I would be of my finger on the trigger of a loaded gun, and yet I hoped the song would last forever.

  “You saw me leave Riley’s bus, didn’t you?” he asked.

  “Um…yeah,” I said. We had encountered the unpleasant part all too soon.

  “We were just catching up.”

  “Okay,” I said, as though this didn’t concern me.

  “We’re just friends,” he said, searching my eyes for a reaction. “We met in poetry workshop and realized on day one that writing is the only thing we have in common. She thinks I’m boring and broody because she parties a lot. I mean, no judgment. It’s hard not to when you get free drink vouchers and no one cards you.”

  “Opposites attract,” I said.

  “Not always.”

  “Are you sure she feels the same way?”

  “She’s dating another musician. They’re keeping it quiet so it doesn’t look like a cheap publicity stunt when her album comes out in a few weeks.”

  I nodded, repressing a sigh of relief. “So why are you telling me? Worried about your reputation if you’re known to have been inside a pretty girl’s private tour bus?”

  “Nat, I think you know why I’m telling you,” he said, his voice gravelly and euphoria-inducing. He shuffled closer to me. My palm clammed up against his, and my knees felt a little wobbly. “I haven’t meant to lead you on. But…”

  He trailed off. The song ended with a drawn-out chord and the smash of a cymbal. “But what?” I demanded, ready for the truth. We lingered awkwardly on the floor while everyone else cleared away.

  “I know what you are,” he whispered. “At least, I know enough. I don’t know who else might be involved, but I saw your grandma that night.”

  “What night?” I asked.

  He set his jaw. “All I’ve ever gotten from Miss Maggie is deflection and lies. One of the reasons I stayed away from you for so long—and trust me, it wasn’t easy—was because I didn’t want to fall for a girl who had to keep secrets. So, if you believe that there’s something here, like I do, please tell me the truth.”

  There was so much to process that I just stared in disbelief. The way he talked about staying away from me…It was like he’d been forcing himself to do it for a long time. I wondered if we knew each other better than I thought, if I’d been noticing him more than I liked to pretend. Maybe, looking back, that kiss wasn’t as surprising as it seemed at first blush.

  “Levi, I’m not one of them.”

  He shook his head and released my hand. “I shouldn’t be surprised to hear another lie.” His words on paper might have read as angry, but he sounded more disappointed. And exhausted.

  “I’m not lying.” A strange desperation overcame me. This was the last place on earth for us to discuss everything that lived in the shadows.

  As if just realizing his hand was still resting on my back, he dropped it and stepped away. I felt him dislocate from our conversation like a bone from a socket. “I should have trusted my instincts,” he said.

  And then he was gone, leaving behind the pavilion lights that glowed like fireflies. The words rattled in my head as I watched him walk deliberately toward the overflow parking lot. I knew that if he gave me the chance, I could convince him of the choice I’d made. But would it be enough?

  Finally, I stormed away from the dance floor and across the busy lawn toward my truck.

  “Are you okay?”

  The voice in the empty courthouse parking lot startled me. I whirled around to find Heather loading up her bakery van. She tucked her hands in the pockets of her yellow apron and leaned against her bumper, watching me.

  There was no one else around. The concert would be the last event of the festival, and all the families with young kids had gone home. “I don’t know what to do,” I said, the pressure of tears burning the bridge of my nose. “There are consequences to being a Warden whether I join or not.”

  Heather opened a pastry box and placed a yellow cupcake with a fluffy tower of icing on a napkin. She held it out for me, a peace offering. My boots scuffed across the concrete as I accepted it.

  “None of us had to absorb this so suddenly, like you did,” she said. “It’s okay to be in shock. Just sleep on your decision another night. Strange things happen under a dark moon.” Tendrils of her purple hair caught the breeze as she tilted her chin to look up at the vast sky. We stood there for a minute until she sighed and said, “I’d better go. I’m on Warden duty in half an hour. Stay safe, Nat.”

  After she left, I sat on the curb and nibbled at the lemon cupcake, which made me feel instantly better. The entire town was enamored of Heather’s bakery, and now I knew why: she charmed her baked goods. No wonder they made an appearance at every baby shower and birthday party in San Solano.

  “Hey, Nat!” I looked over my shoulder to see Riley waving to flag me down. She bounced to a stop in front of my car and handed me a thin, rolled-up magazine. She smelled like expensive perfume and cigarette smoke. “I’m about to go on stage, but I wanted to give you this.”

  “The East Texas Poetry Review?” I asked, reading the title.

  “Levi’s poems are in there. I could tell you hadn’t read them.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but it sounded like a question. “How did you know?”

  “A big reason I added this stop to my tour was to solve the mystery of the girl in that one poem,” she said with a canny smile. “But turns out, it’s not much of a
mystery.”

  She jogged away, leaving me speechless.

  I tore open the pages and read by the overhead light in my truck. The poem I found was beautiful, but I didn’t think it was the one Riley meant. I moved on to the second one, written by Levi, and gasped at the first line.

  THE OTHER SIDE OF SHADE

  Levi Langford

  Hiding with her in the checkered shade

  of Miss Maggie’s garden trellis, I see

  only the thrumming blood-orange of life:

  tomatoes clinging fat and worry-free to their sturdy towers,

  her soft-seeming sundress, the strawberry cobbler

  bubbling with heat on her paper plate.

  This is the happy kind of going-away party.

  Honeycomb hair gloating over one shoulder,

  she asks me if there’s anything I regret—

  no mechanical “he-would-be-proud” or “it-will-get-easier.”

  Eyes outspoken as a summer storm,

  sweat-slicked August freckles forgetting

  that a cold day ever passed, she waits for my answer.

  Up close, she is a mosaic of idiosyncrasies,

  no mere stranger, no mere silhouette,

  and her every inch and breath calls to my will to survive.

  I meet her summer lips, and renounce Death

  —his and mine—whether mine’s yet to come

  or has already. Until now, I was phantom-thin,

  more lost than him, even though I’d purged the wrinkles

  from my Oxford and rehearsed a smile.

  His was the other kind of going-away party.

  I hope it’s not pity inspiring her to be

  so generous with her blood-orange kiss,

  our unpremeditated kiss,

  my why-have-I-never-done-this kiss.

  Tucked away in the quilted grid of garden light,

  I remember everything alive needs darkness to thrive.

  I see the other side of shade.

  SIXTEEN

  Natalie Colter

  Fresh off devouring Levi’s intoxicating words, I forced my prehistoric engine to roar to life.