Loca, Spider Monkey

66. Paul Lahote - Imprinting

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Maybe coming to the bonfire party at First Beach was a bad idea. Rowdy get-togethers wasn't your thing; you would have much rather preferred hanging out at home with a couple of good friends and doing something that didn't involve underage drinking. But your notion of a good time didn't coincide with that of your best friend's, Quil, and so you found yourself surrounded by a bunch of drunk kids from his school, trying hard and unsuccessfully to keep yourself warm under your thick layers of clothing.

Quil was having the time of his life trying to hit on girls, despite being constantly rejected.

"Don't worry," he told you. "After a few more drinks, they'll be singing a different song."

You smacked his head at that comment, but it didn't deter him whatsoever.

The gang was also there — Jared Cameron, Paul Lahote, and Sam Uley. They stood on the edge of the bonfire, slightly away from the rest of the people there as if not wanting to mingle with them — as if they were better than that. Jared and Paul were having fun, too, but Sam kept a watchful eye not just on the two of them but on everyone else. You couldn't even start to imagine what was going on in his head.

Meanwhile, Jared and Paul were eating hot dogs and laughing hard at something they obviously thought was funny. You couldn't understand why everyone was put off by them. Sure, they did kind of act like they were better than everyone else, but they didn't seem like the dangerous hooligans everyone made them out to be. Sure, they had matching tattoos and went around shirtless half the time, despite the fact that it was freezing outside, but that didn't make them bad. It just made them crazy.

"I'm gonna go try my luck with her," Quil said, pointing to a blonde girl. She wasn't from the reservation — she probably came here with a friend just like you had with Quil.

"You do that," you replied. You almost felt bad for him. You knew he would only get rejected again.

As Quil left, you felt someone's presence behind you. Turning around, you saw a tall and lanky — but not entirely unattractive — boy grinning at you, a red disposable cup in his hand.

"Hi," he said. "I don't think I've seen you around school."

"That's because I don't go to school on the res," you told him. "I came here with a friend."

"Your boyfriend?" he teased, jerking his chin towards Quil. You glanced back at him and saw that the blonde girl he'd set his eyes on was actually laughing at his jokes.

You grinned. "Nah, he's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, good." Suddenly, his arm was around your waist. You squirmed slightly under his touch, trying to hide how uncomfortable you were. "You want to take a walk with me?"

Something told you that you should not be alone with him, especially not since his breath reeked of alcohol and he had no concept of personal space. "I think I should be heading home soon, actually," you lied. "But it was nice meeting you—"

"Come on, don't be like that, kitten." His words were a tangled slur; the level of intoxication he was at scared you. Panicked, your eyes shot around from person to person. You needed someone — anyone — to step in before things escalated. You considered calling for your friend Quil, but he wasn't paying attention whatsoever. He was too engrossed in the blonde.

You looked at the gang; they were seated on a couple of rocks near the water. The expression on your face caught Sam's attention. He prodded Paul in the shoulder, who took a lazy glance in the direction of Sam's gaze — and almost fell off the rock he was sitting on.