The Last Good Thing About This Part of Town

As Pete, Tim, Andy and Joe walked onto the stage to kick off the show, Patrick and Julianna cheered and clapped loudly for their friends. Several people around them--"emo scene kids" as Tim would call them--with their colorful, dyed hair, piercings, makeup and black clothing, looked in the teens' direction. Some glared like the cheering, overly excited boy and girl were obviously posers unaware that this band was just the opening act that no one had ever heard of, and others just smiled and nodded, figuring these two were clueless but it was cool. Patrick and Julianna, however, were too interested in watching their friends play music.

The band's dynamic and charisma onstage was much different that what Julianna had seen in Patrick's basement just a week ago. Andy was his usual self, beating his drums with all the passion and determination of a professional rock drummer, while Joe loosened up a little, moving around the stage purposefully but always ending up back in his original place. Tim spent most of his time at the front end of the stage singing to the crowd and crouching down or moving however the music led him. Pete was just a mad man. He jumped and spun and walked across the stage to Joe, then to Tim, but always ended up back at his microphone when he had to sing -- or rather, scream -- his vocal parts. Despite how a person might feel about metalcore or punk rock music, they could not deny Arma Angelus was a really fun band to watch. Even some of the scoffing emo kids were now moshing or pushing to get closer to the stage and the crazy bass player.

And Patrick was right about Pete's groupies. A crowd of varying aged girls and young women were jumping up and down, pushing closer to the stage on Pete's side, raising their hands and vying to get the attention of the good-looking bassist. Julianna wondered if maybe one of them would go home with Pete tonight, and she felt a stab in her midsection. Did she actually care? 'He's a man whore, an unapologetic man whore at that, and a struggling musician with an inflated ego and dreams of making it big. Why does that bother me?' She silently asked herself as she outwardly jammed alongside Patrick. She liked Peter Wentz as a person, but there was no way she could be attracted to Pete Wentz the rock star. Not only was he five years older, so that was creepy, but he was the kind of insecure arrogance that she could not stand. Maybe she was just protective. Maybe she cared about him as a friend and wanted to protect him from himself.

But she really had no right to do that. She had only known him for a week and he was his own person. He could do what he wanted as long as it didn't harm the other guys in the band or Patrick. Julianna looked over at the sincere boy beside her, completely lost in the music his friends were making. Maybe that was it. He looked up to Pete as a role model and also considered him a musical peer, but Patrick was so trusting, vulnerable and honest and didn't deserve to be led astray, whether intentional or not, by a guy he considered to be one of his closest friends. Patrick was good. He did not deserve to be burned because he chose to see the best in people.

Arma Angelus finished their twenty minute set, then the stage crew came out to take away their equipment and stage decor to replace it with that of Relient K's. In the fifteen minute intermission, Patrick turned to Julianna, his green eyes bright with excitement and his face lit up with a huge grin. He reached up to scratch his forehead under his beanie, slightly skewing the gray hat to reveal more of his thin blonde hair, then he replaced his hat again and Julianna thought it was the cutest instinctive gesture she had ever seen. This boy was absolutely adorable and he had no idea. That was what attracted her to him, or at least partly.

"What'd you think?" he asked.

"There are no words," she answered. "Those boys are going places. God, Patrick, you really should play live with them." She rested her hand on his shoulder and gently shook him in her exuberance. "With you playing the band is that much fuller and it adds more rhythm to their sound. I mean, the four of them are fine, but what I heard in your basement was dynamite."

Patrick looked down at the ground, scuffing one of his black Chucks against the grass, "Yeah, yeah, but I--"

"You made a promise to your mom, I know," Julianna interrupted, waving her hand dismissively, "but, seriously, Patrick, you've got so much talent and a love for music that it would be a shame to see it go to waste. I mean, what if the band breaks up in two years? You gotta live in the now, man, because nothing is promised."

He couldn't keep up with this girl! One day she was cynical and distant, and the next she's all carpe diem. Right now, she sounded a lot like Pete. Luckily, he didn't have to respond because the next band came out onto the stage. Patrick had never heard of Relient K, but they were really good. They were definitely punk rock, probably influenced by many of the same bands as Arma Angelus, but all their vocals were clean and their lyrics were more inspirational or tongue-in-cheek than angry or political. It was nice for a change of pace, and the lead singer had fantastic live vocals. Patrick hoped they could make it as a band in the rough, politically-charged punk rock scene because they could be a game changer in the genre; a softer, gentler, more carefree side that still rocked but also appealed to kids who were not necessarily "emo" or "punk". He hated those labels. Why couldn't music just be what it was, and if a person liked it then so be it. Pete and Tim, for sure, would disagree with him, and he was sure they did not consider this band to be punk rock because of their uplifting lyrics and lack of screaming, but Patrick was inspired. He did want to leave some sort of legacy on pop music, to make a difference in the scene, to inspire some kid to push boundaries and think outside the boundaries of genres and rules. The Beatles did it with their compositions, Michael Jackson and David Bowie crossed the line between rock and pop, so Patrick knew it could be done successfully.

Julianna seemed to enjoy Relient K's style, too. She was rocking out to the harder songs with her hands in the air, and swaying to the beat of the gentler songs. He was impressed with her musical knowledge and appreciation. He had never known a girl as attractive, confounding and magnetic as this girl. Yes, he had crushes; most recently on the first chair clarinet player in the jazz band until he found out she had begun dating a senior basketball player halfway through last year. All of his crushes had been unrequited. He never had hope that maybe she liked him back. This time, though, he had hope, and the fact that his friendly really liked her, and she liked them, was enough to make his heart soar.

Flatfoot 56, of course, put on a great show, probably the best show of the night since they were the headliner and about one contract dispute away from being signed to a major label. According to Tim, who was good friends with the drummer and guitarist in the band, they had to come to an agreement on legal fees and commission for their manager before the record deal was official. After the encore, Patrick and Julianna, still giddy and half deaf, made their way backstage as discreetly as possible. They went the long way, sneaking off to the side of the stage away from the crowd, then walking around the backstage area to the metal door on the other side of the outdoor venue that lead to the green rooms behind the stage.

The backstage area was just as chaotic as the crowd beyond the stage trying to get to the merchandise tables or jostling to get closer to the stage to meet a couple members of the bands. But backstage, there were venue officials and stage crew members everywhere, clearing out equipment, trying to avoid running into each other in the narrow hallway between between the green rooms and the actual stage. Julianna grabbed the back of Patrick's shirt so they wouldn't be separated and he made his way through the mass of people like a salmon trying to swim upstream, finally arriving at Arma Angelus' green room.

"Baaahhhh!" Andy exclaimed, jumping up and down and gripping Patrick's shoulders in his excitement. Joe was only a little more sedate as he came up to Julianna and swept her into a big, sweaty hug.

"That was awesome!" Joe buzzed with energy. He released the girl from his tight grip and did the same to Patrick.

"You guys are my heroes! Ohmygod, can I have your autograph?" Patrick joked in a high-pitched voice, imitating an obsessed fangirl. He firmly patted Joe on the back as the separated from their man hug. Tim and Pete were noticeably absent so Julianna figured they stayed behind to meet and greet fans.

"Dude, did you hear that chord change in the third song? It was flawless!" Joe ran both hands through his dark curls, pushing them down on his sweaty scalp, but his stubborn hair just popped back up and fell down over his ears and forehead.

"Hell yeah!" Patrick shared in his best friend's happiness because he had first-hand knowledge of how hard Joe had been working on that change.

"What did you think of your first Arma Angelus show?" Andy asked Julianna, draping one tattooed arm across her shoulders.

Julianna smiled at the normally calm, soft-spoken man, "You guys were so good! It sounds different in a venue than it does in a basement. Definitely louder."

"We rocked that crowd," Andy said happily.

"All five of them," Joe joked and Andy busted up laughing. It wasn't all that funny, but at 9 o'clock at night, running on post-show enthusiasm, they thought they were hilarious. Julianna and Patrick chuckled, too.

"Someday, man," Andy shook his head. "Someday it will be us they're coming to see."

"Hey, you've already got two," Julianna jabbed the older man in the ribs with her elbow. "I don't know about Patrick, but I wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for you guys." Andy grinned wide at her and squeezed her close to his side in a brotherly hug then dropped his arm from her shoulders.

"Guys, I need to call Lindsay," Joe informed them, picking up his cell phone from the side table by the couch, where it had been since Arma Angelus took the stage. He checked his text messages then excused himself to call his girlfriend.

"Homeboy is in big trouble," Andy commented as Joe walked away. Patrick scrunched up his face in confusion. He had no idea what Andy was talking about, but Julianna did because she was nodding her head in agreement. He let it go for now, though. Joe was his best friend and if something or someone was bothering him, he would tell Patrick in his own time. Right now, they were happy and celebrating another successful Arma Angelus show, and Patrick was not about to be the buzz kill.

"Hey, we're going to the Bottom Lounge down the street to hang out with the other band dudes and the crew. You wanna come?" Andy asked Julianna. She looked at Patrick as if to ask if he was going too, since he was her ride. He indicated with a head nod that he was.

"Sure thing!" Julianna answered. She was amazed at how quickly her life had changed. A week ago, she was biding her time in Glenview, anticipating the day she graduated high school and could get out of town. Now, she was at a punk rock concert with a cute boy, hanging out with semi-professional and hopeful musicians, and she was enjoying every minute of it. Just then, Pete and Tim burst through the door, talking animatedly and bouncing like rowdy school children.

"Hey hey!" Pete announced himself, holding his arms wide and slightly cocking his head to the side, a huge grin lighting up his face. "So?"

"Mmm-mmm," Julianna shook her head but was also smiling. "I'm not gonna inflate your ego even more, Pete."

"Aww, you hurt me," Pete pouted and dropped his arms.

"Someone has to," Julianna shrugged. "Those girls out there weren't enough?"

"Oh, they were fine," Pete drew out the last word, sounding kind of pervy, but he didn't seem to care how he came across. He was the most unapologetic person Julianna had ever met, and she liked it because she never had to guess with him. She did not agree with some of his views and the way he chose to live, but he was who he was and no one was going to take that from him. Pete draped an arm around the girl's shoulders. He was sweaty and smelled like a mix of his own deodorant and various girls' perfumes. Oddly, it wasn't repulsive. "But you know you're my one and only," he batted his long eyelashes at the younger girl.

"You won't sway me, Mr. Wentz," Julianna laughed, playfully pushing against his chest to break free, but his grip was strong. He gently squeezed her shoulders, bringing her whole body closer to his for a brief moment. He vigorously shook his head, flinging droplets of sweat onto Julianna. "Gross!" she protested, applying more force to his chest. He laughed and released her, bounding off to join Andy and Patrick's conversation. By now, Joe was back from his phone call and chatting it up with Tim. Julianna walked closer the them in order to grab a stray towel off the couch, wiping Pete's sweat from her face, arms and hands. She could hear Tim and Joe talking about the two bands that played after them tonight. Joe smiled and motioned her over with a slight nod of his head, a no-words-required invitation.

Tim was saying something about how he thought the bands were good musically, but he wished they were more controversial and political with their lyrics. Joe asked him what he meant by that, though Julianna sensed he already knew.

"I just wish rock music, or punk rock, or whatever you want to call it, would go back to its roots sometimes, you know. Like, The Damned, The Voidoids, Sex Pistols. Those bands were all about rebellion and anti-establishmentarianism, rejecting societal norms to change minds. Then we got Black Flag, Bad Brains, Misfits, who inspired bands like Green Day and The Offspring. You know, all these great bands who write about social justice and putting up a middle finger to the corrupt politicians, breaking down walls of segregation and sexism. Now we've got these supposedly 'punk' bands singing about girls and shit."

"I hear what you're saying, man, and I would tend to agree with you, but think about it. Those bands we love pushed boundaries and did unexpected things to create this punk rock or rock genre that we put ourselves in, and now there's this whole emo punk rock sub-culture that has rules and stereotypes and is constantly changing and defining or redefining itself. I think that's what these guys are trying to do. They're rebelling against what is now accepted as punk rock culture. The music matches, but the lyrics are generally more upbeat rather than angry. There are terrible bands out there calling themselves punk, but the Relient K guys, I think, are legit."

"I disagree," Tim shook his head adamantly. "The fuck-it-all attitude and music go together. You can't have one without the other."

Julianna disgreed, and Joe did too, but she didn't know them well enough, especially Tim, to get in the middle of this debate. She was also fairly certain Tim did not respect her opinions anyway.

"Dude, how can you even say that?!" Joe asked incredulously, pulling at the sides of his curly hair in frustration. "Music is meant to be fluid, not tied down to some rules or whatever the hell restrictions people try to put on it. That's what they're saying in a passive-aggressive way. They're saying 'fuck you, we're gonna make the music we want to make'. Man, if all bands did that, there'd be, like, a fucking rock revolution!" Joe's voice became louder and his movements more animated as he got excited, and Julianna couldn't tell yet if he was mad at Tim or just passionate about his disagreement of Tim's opinion. Joe looked at the girl, his big blue eyes wide. "What do you think, Julianna?"

She held up her hands in surrender, "I'm not taking sides in this rather heated debate, but I will give my opinion since you asked. I think Relient K was great and a breath of fresh air in a generally depressing genre of music."

"Oh my god!" Tim exclaimed, turning his head away and scratching at the back of his neck. She was sure he rolled his eyes and thought she was a brainless bimbo, but she got the feeling he felt that way about a lot of girls. Tim was an intellectual, politically aware, but he came across as a sexist know-it-all. She wondered if he knew that.

"See," Joe pursed his lips and looked at Tim again, "those guys are gonna do great things for rock music in the twenty-first century."

"Agree to disagree, man," Tim clapped the younger man on the shoulder, then walked off to start picking up his laptop and other equipment he might have left lying around.

"I think you're right," Julianna shrugged one shoulder, the right corner of her mouth lifting in a sardonic smirk.

"Yeah, he knows it too. He's just too damn stubborn," Joe said. He turned his left wrist to look down at his watch. "Oh geez, we need to get going."

"Can't you just show up at an after party? Like, isn't it cool to be fashionably late?"

Joe laughed a little, "Yeah, when you're famous and don't have a curfew."

"Are you kidding me?" Julianna teased, feigning surprise. "The rebellious, cool Joe Trohman has a curfew?"

He grinned and shrugged, "Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my street cred."

Julianna laughed. For all his seriousness and blunt responses, Joe was really funny when he wanted to be.

"You want to help me pack up my guitars and shit so they're not waiting on me?" Joe asked.

"Sure. What do you want me to do?" Julianna said, looking around for stray guitars and equipment.

"Um, all the six strings in this room are mine," Joe also looked around the room, trying to remember where he left all his instruments. "I think there's one acoustic and three electrics lying around, so if you find one, the cases are all stacked in the corner over there." He pointed to a messy pile of black guitar cases haphazardly laying in the far corner of the room where Tim had been sitting earlier. Some of the cases were decorated with stickers indicating the brand of guitar and/or bands the guys liked, and all of them looked well-loved and well-traveled. "Mine are the non-stickered ones. It doesn't matter which guitar goes in which case," Joe explained in his lilting, joking way. He walked across the room to where Patrick, Andy and Pete were still standing together. Patrick talked animatedly with his hands as Andy and Pete listened. Joe picked up a black electric guitar that was leaning against the wall. Julianna noticed a white electric laying across the couch. She picked it up and carried it over to the mess of guitar cases, pulling a plain black hard case from the pile. She knelt down to open the case and set the guitar inside the red felt.

Soon, all the guitars, drums and equipment were cleaned up and loaded into the band's van, and everyone was ready to move the party to the Bottom Lounge. Joe, Andy, Tim and Pete piled in the van while Patrick and Julianna followed in his car. Julianna expected to walk into a rowdy, dimly lit bar full of people in various stages of dress and intoxication, but when they actually arrived and walked into the Lounge it was much less crowded than she anticipated. As she scanned the room, she soon realized that everyone looked familiar. The Relient K band members and crew were scattered all over the large room talking to the band members and crew of Flatfoot 56. Some of the venue staff and security guards were there, too. And, of course, there were groupies and fangirls. The jukebox in the corner was playing Blink-182's "All the Small Things". Some men and women were dancing, drinks in hand, in the center of the room, while others sat at the bar or at the tables set up around the edges of the room.

"Hey, Chris!" Pete called out and waved at a tall, heavily-tattooed guy at the bar.

"Petey!" the man, apparently named Chris, turned around on his barstool and threw his arms up excitedly, waving the group over. There were two empty Corona bottles on the bar in front of him, and he was holding a third beer bottle that was half-full. A slightly shorter, stockier guy sat on the bar stool next to Chris, his hand wrapped around the handle of a pint of some sort of frothy amber liquid. Pete greeted his friend Chris with a handshake thing that turned into a man hug, then took a seat on the stool to the left of him. Tim sat on the other man's right, and the rest of them crowded around.

"Awesome show tonight, man," Chris slapped hands with Joe, then took a swig from his bottle.

"Thanks," Joe responded.

"Damn, Chris, is this your third beer?" Pete pointed at the bottle in his tipsy friend's hand.

"I waited for you guys to show up before partaking of the hard liquor." Chris then noticed Julianna standing half behind Patrick and Andy. He turned his stool to face her fully. "And who is this angel you brought along? Oh my god, Patrick, is she your..." Julianna blushed and looked at Patrick's face. He was looking at his feet.

"No," Pete shook his head, grinning. "I asked the same thing, man. This is Julianna. She goes to school with Joe and Patrick."

"Chris," the near-drunk man lifted his beer bottle in salute. "I'm available." Pete laughed as Julianna and Patrick both became new shades of red.

"Shut up, man," Patrick chuckled and shuffled his feet, trying to hide his embarrassment, grateful for the dim lighting in the bar. He glanced over his shoulder at Julianna. She was looking down at her hands, picking at her fingernails as if she suddenly discovered a very interesting hangnail, her long, wavy hair falling over her cheeks. Thankfully, the bartender walked over and set four shot glasses full of clear, hard liquor on the bar. Pete, Chris, Joe and Tim each grabbed a shot glass.

"To the rock gods!" Chris exclaimed, holding his shot glass up. The four men clinked their glasses and downed the shots, then slammed the glasses upside down on the bar. It shocked Julianna that underaged Joe was able to, but also chose to, drink the shot, but she didn't say anything and tried to play it of like this was normal. Like she always went to parties where older men allowed, and even encouraged, teenaged boys to drink. Would Patrick have participated if she weren't with him?

Andy wandered off to talk to the drummer of Flatfoot 56, and Tim became engrossed in a conversation with the guy sitting next to him. Patrick noticed the lead singer and guitarist for Relient K sitting at a table near the jukebox. He was alone, his head bent as his thumbs scurried over the Blackberry in his hands, and Patrick figured he was either typing out a text message or playing a game. Either way, it was an opportunity to congratulate him on the show and ask a few questions, but he wasn't sure if it was appropriate to leave Julianna at the bar with Pete, Joe and Chris. Knowing them, they would have her drunk out of her mind by the end of the night, and he would be left carrying her home and explaining himself to her parents.

Pete ordered two beers. The bartender checked his ID because it was the law, but Patrick knew one of the drinks was for Joe. The bar was busy, though, and the bartender, who was working solo, either didn't have time to notice or didn't care that Chris and Pete were buying drinks for their teenaged friend. Tim and the other guy, whose name was Brian, left the bar to talk to some crew guys sitting around a table at the back of the room, and Joe immediately took the seat Brian had vacated.

"Julianna, I'm gonna go over and talk to the guy from Relient K," Patrick informed the girl beside him.

"Stay here, Julianna," Joe patted the empty spot next to him and took a swig from his beer bottle. Julianna really wanted to go talk music with those two guys, but Joe needed a friend tonight and he chose her. He would never admit he was feeling lonely and unwanted, but the slightly whiny timbre of his voice and his sad, pleading blue eyes were not the result of being drunk. He had only had a shot and a few sips of beer so far. Pete and Chris were more interested in drinking and hitting on girls that noticing Joe's unusually needy behavior.

"Yeah, you go, I'll stay with Joe," she said to Patrick. His brow furrowed as he glanced from Julianna to Joe, wondering what was going on between them and why he was not being let in on it. Julianna climbed up on the bar stool to Joe's right as Patrick walked off. "Do you want to talk about that phone call you got earlier?" she pointedly asked the slightly inebriated boy.

He shook his head, running one hand through his brown curls, "Mmm-mmm. I wanna drink!"

"Hey hey!" Chris saluted with his nearly empty beer bottle. "You wanna drink too, sweetheart?" Chris's speech was so slurred that Julianna didn't realize he was even directing his question to her until Joe nudged her with his shoulder.

"Yeah!" he widened his eyes and grinned at her, his stubborn curls falling down onto his forehead, making him look younger and more innocent than his sixteen years. She had the sudden urge to reach out and push his hair off his face like a mother caring for her sick child, but she quickly quelled that urge before she embarrassed herself. He set his now empty beer bottle on the bar. "Drink with me."

"Nope. Sorry, guys."

"Come on, please," Joe pouted and leaned his head on her shoulder. "One drink won't hurt."

"But you won't let me stop at one," Julianna shrugged him off. "You'll whine and pout until we're both drunk, and then my parents will never let me see you again."

"You care way too much about what your parents will say and do," Pete accused.

"Whoa! You don't know me or my life well enough to make that assumption, sir!" she retorted.

"Just an observation," Pete held his hands up, palms out, in surrender, then flagged down the bartender again. He ordered four pints of beer this time. When the bartender came back with the drinks, Joe slid one in front of Julianna.

"Drink."

"Joe, I'm not...this is illegal," Julianna argued, but he just smirked and raised his glass to his lips.

"For once in your life, Julianna, don't think about the consequences," Pete urged. "Live in the moment! Be daring!"

"Hazzah!" Chris and Joe raised their pints and clinked them together as some sort of drunken affirmation. Chris was completely wasted at this point and Joe, being two and a half beers and a shot in, was definitely tipsy. She hated that they thought she was concerned about what other people thought...especially her parents. 'Fuck it, I'll show them.' Before she could think about the consequences or change her mind, Julianna gripped the handle on the pint of beer in front of her and tipped it back. The amber liquid tasted terrible; like old bread and potpourri. It was cold going down her throat, then she felt her body begin to warm from the inside out. She must have twisted her face into an expression of disgust because Joe chuckled and said, "It's like sex. The first time is the worst." Her cheeks flamed; partly from the alcohol and partly from Joe's analogy. Pete laughed so hard he tossed his head back and almost fell off his bar stool. Julianna took another sip from the glass, but she still did not like the taste.

"Nope," she shook her head, scrunching up her face, "still tastes like a bread burp."

All three guys laughed hard at that before Joe clarified, "It's definitely an acquired taste. Just keep drinking." And she did. By the time Patrick was done socializing and came back to the bar, Julianna had two beers in her. Her head felt fuzzy and the noise in the room was suddenly too loud was suddenly too loud yet muffled and jumbled at the same time, but she could still see straight.

"Hi, Patrick!" she said a little too loudly, her voice pitched up an octave, drawing out the last syllables of each word.

"Hey," Patrick stood between Joe and Julianna, "they bought you beer, huh." He sounded like he was talking to a belligerent four-year-old, appearing calm and unaffected on the outside but really wanting to wring his friends' necks on the inside.

"Yeah, and it's still gross," Julianna's speech was slurred. "I don't know how you guys do this every weekend."

"Well, not all of us do," Patrick glared at his friends as if to let them know they would talk about this later. Pete just raised his eyebrows in challenge, clearly not feeling threatened. Joe grinned like an idiot at Patrick, as if to claim his innocence, but his best friend was no fool. Chris just raised his glass in Patrick's direction then turned to talk to Pete again. Danzig's "She Rides" played from the jukebox, and Julianna slipped her arm around Patrick's waist, pressing herself up against his side.

"Hey, you wanna dance?"

For several seconds, Patrick froze but his heart felt like it was in his throat. Her smile was so genuine, her dark eyes twinkling in the dim bar lighting, and he knew she was fully aware of what she was doing. Before he could even respond, she had hopped off the bar stool and was grabbing his hand, leading him to the dance floor in the center of the room. She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he hesitantly rested his hands on her hips. Uninhibited due to the alcohol, Julianna moved her body to the rhythm of the punk rock song coming through the speakers, caught up in the music and ambiance of the night. She met the short boy's gaze, grinning at his meek attempts to move to the music while also keeping her at arm's length so as not to make any unwanted contact. He actually was not a bad dancer. The song changed to a mid-tempo ballad, and Julianna tugged on his shoulders, indicating her consent for him to press the front of his body to hers. Patrick burst into flame. He knew his face was flushed, his head was full of air and he hoped to whatever higher entity that may be out there that she couldn't feel how turned on he was.

"How come we've gone to the same school for years and I've never seen you before?" she asked, looking up into his face with her head cocked a little to the side. They swayed in place to the slower song.

Patrick shrugged, "I don't necessarily go out of my way to be noticed, especially by hot girls."

Julianna giggled, "You think I'm hot?" Her brown eyes searched his green ones for some sort of indication that he was lying, although she was not certain of exactly what she was looking for. In her inebriated state, she was not sure she would even recognize it.

"Well, yeah," Patrick decided it was too late to backtrack so he chose simple honesty.

"Hmm," she just reached up and brushed aside his bangs peeking out from under his hat, then she gently tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, her arms draped over his shoulders. "Well, I'm glad I was Joe's lab partner and I'm glad I met you...and the rest of the guys in the band. This has been one of the best weeks of my life."

"Me too," Patrick's neck tingled where her fingers touched his skin, and he grinned at her. It struck him that he had to look down slightly to level his gaze with hers. He was a small guy but she was a good two or three inches shorter.

They danced to two more songs, and as far as Patrick was concerned, they were the only two people in the room. She swayed her hips and danced close to him while he shuffled his feet and did his best to move like he knew what he was doing. They did not talk. Julianna just rested her head against his chest, occasionally singing quietly along to the song. When it was time to leave, Patrick did not want to. If he had his way they would stay in that dimly lit bar, filled with the din of his friends conversations, with their arms wrapped around each other, dancing to every song on the jukebox. But he had enough of a grip on reality right now to understand that they had to get back to it. She needed to be home on time or her parents would probably ban her from hanging out with him.

He pulled back from her to look down into her face. Her eyelids partially hooded her big brown eyes and her whole body was relaxed, almost totally leaning on him. If his arms were not locked around her waist she would have just slumped to the floor.

"Hey, sleepy head," Patrick murmured, reaching one hand up to gently push a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Mmm," a slow grin lazily stretched her face but her eyes remained half-closed.

"It's time to go," Patrick played with the ends of her hair. She yawned.

"I'm so tired."

"I know. That's the alcohol."

She pouted but let him take her hand and lead her back to where Joe, Pete and Chris were still drinking at the bar. This time, though, Pete had a red-haired girl in a short denim skirt and low-cut top sitting on his lap. And who knows where Andy had escaped to.

"Guys, we're gonna go," Patrick clapped Joe on the shoulder with his right hand. "Let Andy drive you home and don't do anything stupid."

"Ahh, it's fine!" Joe protested too loudly, his speech definitely slurred. His eyes looked blurry.

"We'll get home safe," Pete assured his friend. He was only slightly more alert. The girl on his lap just gave a small wave of her left hand. Her right hand was speared through Pete's dark hair at the back of his head. "See you, man." Patrick gripped the hand Pete held out and they exchanged a brief handshake like they were fraternity brothers.

"Say bye to Andy and Tim for me," Patrick exchanged the same bro handshake with Joe and Chris.

"Ok, see ya later," Joe turned back toward the bar and his alcoholic beverage.

"It was nice meeting you, sweetheart," Chris tipped his beer to Julianna.

"Yeah, same," she responded. "It was fun. You guys were great. I'm going to sleep now. Pete, Joe and Chris chuckled.