Love-Struck by Rachael Wing Page B

and riff combined with the drums hypnotized my hips, and they wanted to dance. I looked at my watch. He was nearly twenty-five minutes late, with not so much as a text.
    Screw this, I thought.
    I turned to Boy-At-The-Bar.
    â€œI’ll hold you to that! I’m going to dance, see you later…”
    â€œJack.” He filled the space with his name.
    â€œRight,” I smiled. “Jack! Later…”
    Jonah obviously asked me out, and then met some other girl and just decided that I wasn’t worth it. Well, he was wrong. So wrong. I pushed my way to the middle of the crowd, which is always a scary thing to do when you’re a midget like me, and got near the front, listening to the set.
    I don’t know how long I stayed there, but I just let the crowd carry me. That’s the thing with the pit – if you resist, you get hurt; but if you go with the flow and let the music carry you, the crowd is just one organism and it’s all good.
    I let the drums beat into my head and drum out all of the thoughts about Jonah the Pig and what he might be doing instead of being here with me. I let the bass soak into my soul and cleanse me like a steaming hot shower. I let the lead guitar take over my body and make it jump and shake and dance as hard as it could, and then I let the vocals dance around my eyes like raindrops stuck to my eyelashes. Music can be the most healing of things.
    Before I knew it, the set was over and I was thirsty as hell. I headed over to the bar, and finally caught sight of Wes.
    â€œGood set!” I exclaimed, bouncing on his shoulders as he waited to be served.
    â€œThere you are!” he said beaming. “I couldn’t find you anywhere! I thought it would be all right, that you’d be with Jonah—”
    My face must have dropped a little, because the next thing I knew he was giving me a pitying look, almost like he was expecting it. A twinge of annoyance hit my stomach, but I ignored it because I’d been alone for God-knows-how-long, and I needed to talk to him.
    â€œDid he not show?”
    I shrugged. “Nope. But it’s OK, because I’ve got a drink waiting for me!”
    And right on cue, Jack waltzed up and beamed at me.
    â€œSo, Holly – did your friend show?”
    I shook my head sadly.
    â€œOne drink coming up, then, as promised!” He picked up a glass with a flourish. “What do you want?”
    â€œJ20, pink flavour?”
    He winked. “Sure, anything you want.”
    He wandered off to the other end of the bar. Wes turned to me, blocking my view of Jack’s lovely bum.
    â€œWho’s that guy?”
    â€œOh, that’s Jack!” I replied loftily, looking down at my twisting hands. “He wanted to buy me a drink because I’ve been stood up.” I looked up into Wes’s face, which was frowning. “Oh, what, Wes?”
    â€œYou’re accepting a drink off a total stranger?”
    I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, big brother, I didn’t realize I had to check with you first. And besides, he’s not a total stranger, he’s Jack …”
    Wes looked like he wanted to say something, but then judging the look on my face, he just let it slide. His drinks arrived, he paid, and then turned back to me.
    â€œSo how’s it going with Emily?” I asked.
    He smiled, his eyes a bit distant. “Good! We danced and we’ve had a laugh, and now I’ve come to get her a drink whilst she’s talking to some girls she knows.”
    My drink came and I smiled at Jack. “Thanks, you’re an angel.”
    â€œYeah, you could say that!” he laughed. “Are you coming next week to MSR?”
    â€œYep!” I nodded. “I’m going with this fine guy here!” I clapped Wes on the shoulder.
    Jack nodded. “Great. If you see me there, come over and say hi. Maybe you can repay me for the drink?”
    â€œYeah, sure!”
    Jack walked away, and Wes