Under the Orange Moon by Adrienne Frances Page A

desperation.
    “Really?” Dylan asked, looking up into the sky. She was obviously trying to be polite. “That is interesting, but sad at the same time. I like an orange moon for different reasons. I’d rather not know about the scientific explanations of it.”
    With an evil gloat, Ben smiled victoriously and scooted closer to her, practically sticking his tongue out at Michael. The orange moon did nothing but give her a reminiscent feeling of her father, Carl, whenever it came out for its rare appearance. Ben knew this well, and he knew exactly why Dylan looked at the moon the way she did on that night. Normally, this would make him sad for her, but he secretly thanked Carl for granting him this triumph over Oilie.
    “Oilie, shut it. You’re ruining the moment,” Ben harassed.
    “What moment?” Dylan asked with a careful smile.
    Michael laughed uncomfortably, stiffening his body in frustration. “Ben here thinks everything with him is a moment. He doesn’t realize that we could care less if he’s here or not.”
    “ You may not care that I’m here, Oilie,” Ben jabbed. He grinned at Dylan as if to point out her smile. “Dylan’s always happy when I’m around.”
    “Sure,” Dylan teased, elbowing Ben and leaning into him with a lighthearted laugh.
    Fueled by Ben’s hovering and constant shadowing, Michael swallowed hard like a nervous loser and reached over to pull Dylan’s hand from her lap. Ben waited and watched for Dylan to let go awkwardly, but she didn’t. She actually hung onto Oilies hand and continued to watch the orange moon, sickening Ben to the point of seething aggravation.  
    Not quite defeated, Ben scooted even closer to Dylan and allowed his arm to just barely touch hers. He matched her breathing and moved with her as he hoped she would find the feeling of him beside her as pleasant as he felt. That’s my hand , he thought.
    Dylan could feel the silent competition between the two of them. She understood the threat that Michael was feeling, but, for the life of her, she could not figure out Ben’s motives. She chalked it up to intoxication.
    Michael sighed loudly. He looked Dylan’s way and smiled. “Do you want to go for a walk alone? ” She knew that last part was meant for Ben’s ears.
    “That’s a terrible idea. Her brothers wouldn’t like that,” Ben answered for her. He looked Michael up and down with a raised brow full of dramatic suspicion. “You never know with certain people.”
    “What?” Dylan laughed in disbelief. This was getting ridiculous. “Ben, shut up,” she scolded.
    Michael stood to his feet and held out his other hand. “Let’s go,” he demanded politely. He looked at Ben, and said, “You’re not invited.”
    Dylan knew what he wanted. It made her stomach sink just the thought of kissing Michael. Would he really go that far in one night? He was already displaying actions she never thought possible, shocking her forever with even the hand holding. She had been thankful when he let it go to stand. The sweat on his palms was simply too annoying for words. Or maybe that was her sweat, a reaction against the hand she didn’t want to hold.
    “Michael, I’m tired. I was thinking about just calling it a night,” Dylan answered like a coward.
    “Some other time then,” he said, disappointed.
    Ben stood to his feet and flashed a wide, satisfied grin. “Have a good one, Oilie.” He pulled at Dylan’s shirt and headed up the steps of the patio.
    “I’m going to walk him to his car,” Dylan said to Ben, pulling her shirt back from his hand and slapping him with an evil glare. He was like a dog chewing on her pant leg.
    Ben froze on the steps. He glared at them both and pressed his teeth onto his lower lip, a movement of his that Dylan knew well. He was trying to shut himself up.
    “I’ll be there in a minute,” Dylan snapped at Ben when he hadn’t moved.
    As Dylan and Michael headed around to the front yard, Dylan could feel him moving closer.