Saturday's Storyteller: "No, but really, those pork rinds are for everyone."

by Belinda Roddie

"No, but really, those pork rinds are for everyone. Ivan? Ivan!"

Of course, Ivan simply pulled the bag closer to his chest, munching away at the contents, and all his brother Ben could do was sigh and return to the rest of the party. In the corner, Lacey and Erik were kissing with lukewarm beer bottles in their free hands, while Sandy played guitar on the dilapidated couch with the strange hunting landscape pattern. At this point, all Ben wanted to do was curl up with a beer and the TV remote control and shoo everyone out.

Then again, he was throwing this shindig for his sister Shana, who had just turned twenty-one. So he may as well suck it up and deal with the set-up for the next six or so hours.

It was eight o'clock by the time the first guest actually left, a disgruntled Alan after a call from his girlfriend. No one wanted to leave, though. Some of the younger people were huddled on the carpet, Ivan included, who of course was still not sharing the pork rinds. Ben could smell pig and salt on his lips from a good meter or two away. Then he sidled to the refrigerator for another bottle and ran into Jason instead.

"Hey."

"Hi." Jason chuckled. His bare shoulders shook slightly as he leaned a beefy arm against the nearest wall. "Great party, huh?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Shana probably won't miss us," Jason murmured, winking. "Want to ditch this boredom central?"

Boredom central? Who spoke like that? Only Jason did, as far as Ben was concerned. It didn't matter. Jason was good-looking enough to let it slide.

The night air outside the house was cold, and Jason lit up a pipe and passed it to Ben. The two smoked together in a stoic silence. Funnily enough, this was a better outlet for the twenty-four-year-old than staying inside, where Ivan got fatter and fatter off of junk food and Shana learned how to mix the most disgusting drinks. Jason and Ben traded the pipe for an hour or so, taking silent puffs and letting the sticky smell envelope them. It was clear that they both wanted to kiss each other. They didn't.

"So," Jason finally asked between mouthfuls of sweet tobacco smoke, "you know any good places to hide?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know...forgotten landmarks, outside monuments, unsavory locations. Like the shady gas station that always has the cops patrolling around, or the pit stop at the 45 exit. You know of anything good?"

Ben sighed. Inside, Shana was probably digging into the rum-soaked cake. And Ivan, of course, was most likely opening a second bag of pork rinds. "There's the park," he recalled, "on Oak Street. Maybe we can go there."

Jason arched an eyebrow. His mousse-laden brown hair shimmered in the moonlight. "No one to watch us?"

Ben grinned. "No one to care."

He wondered if Jason's lips tasted like pig and salt.

This week's prompt was provided by Arden Kilzer.