Have You Ever Really Danced On the Edge?

“I want to be happy for her, I really do, but not when my boyfriend is a complete scumbag,” I say, and shake my head.

My sister, Taylor, frowns at me. I pretend not to see it and take out my cell-phone. Upon doing so, I dial the most important number in the entire universe... my boyfriend’s. As it rings and rings, I press it closer to my ear, to amplify the noise. I hope that if by pressing it closer to my ear, it will magically force Brandon to pick up. He didn’t... yet again. It bothered me because Brandon and I had been fighting lately, and I feared that while I was gone for a week Brandon would decide that he didn’t want a relationship.

“Where is that damn boy?!” I shout, and I visibly notice Taylor’s bones rattle. I remember how passive and shy Taylor is, so I make a mental note to try to tone it down.

“Anna,” Taylor says, turning on her stern voice. It sounds a lot like my mom’s, “Calm down. You can’t be a downer at your own sister’s wedding!”

I sigh, and chug the rest of my beer. Technically I wasn’t really supposed to be having beer, as I’m only eighteen, but Taylor was my saving grace. The middle Morrison sister just turned twenty-one and was handing me beers underneath the table. Usually she wouldn’t have been so risky, but the beer was free at our eldest sister, Morgan’s, wedding reception.

It was true. The first Morrison girl was getting married, hallelujah, praise the Lord. Of course, the wedding was absolutely perfect. Pink rose petals adorned the white table cloths, decorative curtains hung upon the ceiling, making for a very romantic feel. The venue was somewhat like a Victorian-style palace, with columns and archways.

“Where could he be?” I ask again, to anyone who would listen (which totally rules out everyone... including Taylor). My sister was a great listener, but after going on about Brandon’s absence for more than an hour, she was done. Instead, we both sat at the bar, trying to avoid any conversation: both from distant relatives and each other.

“He’s probably at his grandma’s. Doesn’t she live way out in the country? He probably doesn’t have any service, Annabel. Calm down, please. I’m getting really bothered with all your little worries.”

At her petty excuse for Brandon, I scoff. “Well...” I mutter, reconsidering. It’s a possibility. I try not to admit this out loud, but my silence answers everything by itself. Taylor smiles at her victory.

“Whatever, Tay,” I tell her. “I guess I can just let it go. It’s her wedding after all...”

“It’s whose wedding?! Oh wait, it’s mine!” My perky, gloating, and eldest sister Morgan cut in. “Are you guys having fun?” I saw her eyes dart to my now empty glass. I wonder if she was suspected anything.

“I’m having a wonderful time, Morgs. Everything turned out wonderfully,” Taylor says, smiling. I smile at Morgan to reinforce the compliment.

“Oh, good! I was so worried that you two wouldn’t know anyone! I mean, Eric’s family is so huge, and -“

“And we’re doing fine!” Taylor interrupts. “Eric’s family is so precious. We’re just so happy that you’re happy, Morgan. Now go dance with your new husband... he’s waiting for you!”

Morgan and I turn our heads, and sure enough. Eric is standing a comfortable foot away from the Morrison daughter gathering for privacy. Morgan sends a smile once more our way before she skips off with Eric.

I turn back to Taylor. “His family is precious?” I laugh. Eric’s family is anything but. They were too loud. With my bad mood, I wasn’t feeling up to dealing with them. And Taylor, shy and passive Taylor, didn’t like how overwhelmed they made her feel. But even for an loudest, most energetic extrovert, that family was a handful.

Taylor grimaces, “It was the first positive adjective that came to mind. Believe me, it was hard to say that untruth about the family from Hell.” I laugh again, Taylor is such a sweetheart, even when she’s mean. I’ve been wishing painful deaths on them for as long as the reception started.

Another 80's one-hit wonder came on, and Taylor and I both shudder. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take! It’s only eleven at night and I am dying!” I say, throwing my hands up in exhaustion. You could only pretend you were having fun for so long.

To my surprise, Taylor nods. I thought she would snap at me to behave, be happy for Morgan! But she was now pulling out her cellphone.

“I know some friends from around here, maybe they could pick us up and take us somewhere. I’m kind of hungry for some Taco Bell...” She says, and looks at me to agree.

I nod, “Sure, call them up. How did you meet people from San Diego?” Morgan and her new husband moved from a suburb of Milwaukee, Wisconsin (where our family grew up) to San Diego. Having been born and raised in Milwaukee, I thought everyone in our family other than Morgan would be strangers to San Diego. But apparently, my shy sister had a secret life as a social butterfly.

Somewhere in the darkness, I see Taylor turn pink at my question. “I - I... well you know, I just met these guys... and -“

“Taylor!” I yell in a surprise, “You talked to boys?” My loudness causes the couple next to us at the bar turn and look. Taylor visibly sinks deeply in her seat.

“Anna! Please, stop!” She begs me, glancing at the couple who have finally minded their own business. “This girl through work knows them, they’re this band from San Diego. I met them and we’ve become pretty good friends since then. I told them I’d be in San Diego for the weekend and they told me we should hang out.”

I try to collect my jaw from the ground. Taylor works for The Rave/Eagle’s Ballroom, a music venue based in Milwaukee. She did some accountant work, or something to do with financial crap. Like, the boring stuff. I never thought she would come in contact with bands or musicians.

“So, who do they sound like? Norah Jones, Josh Groban... what about... Ben Folds?” I ask, noting musicians us Morrison girls usually listen to.

Taylor glances away for a fleeting second, clearly still embarrassed. “Yeah... um, something like that.” It’s evident she’s lying, but I glance at the bar and realize I could really go for a Grilled Stuffed Burrito.

“So, ya gonna call these rockstars or what?”

***

After about ten minutes of hugs and trying to get out of Mama Morrison’s watchful eyes, Taylor and I are in the parking lot of the reception venue waiting for the boys to pick us up. I was somewhat excited to meet the boys, especially if they had voices like Ben Folds. Plus... I just really like Grilled Stuffed Burritos.

Finally, I see a white, 16-passenger van squeal into the parking lot. I feel my eyes widen and I look at Taylor. She’s looking away, and wringing her hands. “Oh God...” I hear her mutter.

The van comes to a screeching halt two inches from our toes. A boy with long hair, many tattoos and a lip piercing stuck his head out of the passenger window. He was tan, maybe Mexican, and when he opened his mouth he had very straight teeth.

He smiles warmly at Taylor, “Tay-Tay! Whazzup girl!” He turns around to a boy in the driver side. He yells something to him before turning back. “And who’s this?”

Taylor smiled back, but the mentioning of me makes me feel awkward and a little afraid. Who the heck are these thugs? “Oh, this is just my little sister Annabel. Annabel, meet Mike; Mike, Annabel.”

I smile at him, and he smiles nicely back. The boy in the driver seat is yelling something about getting into the van. The awkwardness is broken for a bit as Taylor and I climb in the van. I can’t help but think that these boys are some sort of criminals, that I’m being taken away and never to see daylight again.

Upon climbing in the van, I am met with a boy with the craziest hair I have ever seen. It was jet-black and it was so messy! I noticed a few tattoos on his arms, but nothing crazy. I breathe a sign of relief. I didn’t want to meet anymore thugs. He had a handsome face though, with cute dimples.

“Hi! I’m Jaime!” He says, and shifts over me to hug Taylor. “It’s nice to meet you, Taylor always talks about how much she loves her little sister! I mean, look at you! Are you sure you guys aren’t twins? I’ve never met twins before! But once, I was at this park... and I see this girl, right? And she’s like walking past me, two seconds later she walks past me again and I’m like, ‘what the hell! I just saw you!’ but it’s her twin sister! Man, if I had a twin, I’d play so many pranks...”

He’s obviously the most-outgoing of the group. Jaime keeps rambling on about how similar Taylor and I look until a boy with a baseball cap on smacks him. This one has a big gauges in his ears and several tattoos on his arms and chest, like Mike. “Don’t mind Jaime. I’m Tony,” the boy, Tony, says to me. He smiles shyly at me.

“Uh... hi,” I say, smiling shyly back. “I’m Anna.”

“Hey Anna!” Screams a voice from the front of the van, the driver’s seat. “I’m Vic!”

Vic has long hair, probably the same length as mine, except I’m a girl. His bangs sweep across his forehead, completely hiding it. He has a beanie on. He has brown eyes that are kind, and he’s smiling at me. Unlike all of the other boys, I don’t see a trace of tattoos.

“Hi everybody,” I say again, hopefully closing out the introductions. As soon as I say this, Vic is menacingly driving the van away. Taylor seems to be in her natural habitat, laughing with the boys.

My shy, innocent Tay is friends with these boys? I wasn’t so sure about them. They seemed nice, but their appearances made them questionable. I dig my phone out of my pocket and check for messages. Still no Brandon. I hit my head on the back of the passenger seat as Vic screeches to a halt. Mike, sitting in the passenger seat, notices and laugh. I grit my teeth to avoid saying anything mean. I decided I hated everyone in this van. Plus, my boyfriend is a complete idiot.

Could this night get any worse?