Somebody whistled behind me. Catcalls started. I shuffled forward and stood stiff as a board, unsure what I was supposed to do. Finally I realized he was supposed to put it on my leg.

Which meant I had to hike up my skirts. I did, and stuck out my leg. Victor knelt in front of me, and gently cupped my foot in his hand. He slipped off my shoe, and pulled the elastic band up over my calf, then up my thigh. I shivered as his fingers brushed the skin of my leg, and bit my lip.

It felt... good. He held my calf lightly in his hand and put my shoe back on, and I lowered my foot to the floor. As I put my foot down he stood up, rising inches away from me, his face filling my vision as I stood to my full height.

Karen was grinning. Father's face was a stony mask, a false smile stretched over absolute, incandescent fury.

The disk jockey started talking. Victor took my arm and walked me, briskly, away from the open floor. It was time for the first dance of the bride and groom. Karen was absolutely overjoyed, smiling so much it had to hurt. She put her head on Father's chest as they danced, and he looked genuinely happy.

Except for his eyes. His eyes never changed.

The best man danced with the maid of honor, a girl I didn't know, one of Karen's people. I tried to slink into the crowd.

Victor took my wrist and pulled me out onto the dance floor.

"I've never danced before," I blurted out.

"Me either, not like this. It's not hard. We just stand close together and walk around. No big deal."

I nodded. It was no big deal, until he put his hand on the small of my back, and clasped my hand in his. My heart started pounding and my throat went dry. There was a distance between us, maybe six inches between our stomachs, but it felt like we were touching anyway. I stared at his throat and didn't look at anyone, aimlessly moving in a circle, shuffling my feet. He squeezed my hand.

"Does he hurt you?" Victor murmured.

"Who?"

"Your father."

I shook my head and looked away from him.

"Time for the cake."

He let go of my hand, and his palm fell away from my waist. He stood next to me, arms folded, as our parents fed each other sickly sweet wedding cake. I ended up with a paper plate in my hand, picking at a slice. The icing was too cloying sweet and I wanted to spit it out.

"This cake sucks," Victor grumbled.

I couldn't help it. I started laughing.

There were a few looks, but no one paid me much mind. They probably thought I was laughing from happiness at the wonderful wedding. I dumped my cake on a random table and looked for a place I could hide. I never liked crowds and it felt like there was an itchy wool blanket on my shoulders, weighing me down. I tugged on my skirts and wove my way through the crowd, and ended up in front of the fire hall. I breathed in warm, humid evening air. Music thudded through the brick walls as I sat down on a narrow ledge running through the windows and plucked at loose strands of my hair. A shadow fell across my feet.

I looked up and Victor pushed a glass of red liquid at me. There was a little umbrella in it.

"I can't drink."

"Me either. Not here, anyway. It's a Shirley Temple."

I took it and sipped it through the little straw. It was too sweet, but it was cold and liquid. Victor had one, too. He seemed amused by the umbrella. After he finished the drink he took it out and was playing with it, popping it up and down.

"These aren't supposed to have umbrellas. Want another one?

"I shouldn't be talking to you."

"Why?"

I was trying to think of an answer when I heard a piercing voice.

"Victor!"

I looked over to see a girl our age storm outside. Her dress made me blush. I was honestly wondering how it stayed up. It had no back or sleeves, just cups for her rather large breasts. She walked over and planted her fists on her hips, a long leg visible through a high slit in the side of her skirt.

"Uh," he said.

"Amber."

"Right. Hi, Amber."

"What are you doing out here?" she demanded.

"Getting some air. I brought Eve something to drink."

I looked at her but she ignored me. Instead she tugged his arm.

"Come inside. What was that about, giving her the garter?"

He shook loose of her grip. She scowled at him.

"What are you doing here?" he said.

"You invited me," she said, folding her arms under her impressive bust.

"I did?"

"Yes," she growled.

I stood up. Neither of them noticed me. I took my cup and Victor's, and walked back inside. I found a trash can, tossed the little plastic cups and looked at the clock. When would this be over? I just wanted to be alone.

The reception had moved onto the dance floor, so I walked back into the dining room and sat down at my seat. It wasn't five minutes before Victor slunk in and sat down next to me. In my father's seat, I noticed.

"What do you want?"

"You look upset."

"Shouldn't you be occupied with Amber?"

"Don't worry about her. She kinda crashed the wedding."

"I see."

I folded my hands primly in my lap. Maybe if I just sat there he'd leave.

"I'm sorry if I got you in trouble."

"About what?"

"The car. The day we met. I wouldn't have done that if I knew your father would flip out."

"You wouldn't?"

"Maybe I would have. Mom was worried about you. She said you were really upset. Did I piss you off?"

I look over at him, then away, and sigh. "No. Not me."

"I know he was upset, but I do know what I'm doing. You want some more cake? Something to eat? A drink?"

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Look, I'll be honest. I don't know most of these people. The ones I do know I hate. Three of my ex-girlfriends showed up, invited by my mother. Your father tried to kill me with his eye lasers when I gave you the garter."

"I don't think that was appropriate," I said. "Our parents are married now. We can't..."

"What?" he said, smirking.

"Nothing."

"We can't nothing? That's a double negative."

Flustered, I rubbed at my temples.

"I know, it's shocking. I read a book."

"I can't talk to you," I blurted out.

"Why? Did somebody threaten you? Your dad?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Why'd you come up to the widows walk? You want to tell me, you just won't. Look, this guy just married my mom. If he's trouble I need to know."

I look around the empty dining room. The crowd in the dance hall starts to blur as my eyes burn.

"He disciplines me. That's all. I broke a rule. I needed punishment."

Victor looked at me intently.

"Punished you how?" he said, softly.

I covered my mouth with my hand and stifled a sob.

"I can't. Don't make me tell you. I can't."

"I don't want to make you do anything."

I sat there and sniffed quietly until he found a clean napkin and handed it to me. I snatched it and rubbed at my eyes and nose. It only made my nose raw.

"You moved into my house. My roof. Your father married my mother but the house is mine."

"Are you mad at her? For getting married again?"

He sighs. "Yes, but don't tell her that. It's not... she's been alone for over six years. She doesn't fit into my dad's social circles. She was a waitress before they married. She's completely alone. Your father spent a lot of time with her. They got to know each other, started seeing each other, I was fine with it. I think he had me fooled."

"Fooled?"

"You don't have to tell me what he does to you. It's probably better if you don't. He does hurt you though, doesn't he? You're scared shitless of him."

I started wringing the napkin in my hands. "He spanked me when I was younger. That's all."

"When you were younger," Victor said, carefully.

"A-after the car ride," I choked out.

"With his hand?"

"No. He uses a belt."

His hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles bleeding of color as he crushed the tablecloth in his hand. "Not anymore. He puts a hand on you again, or a belt or anything else, you come to me, understand?"

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

"I wish you'd told me before. I would have put a stop to this."

"He'd kill me," I blurted out.

Victor looked up. "What?"

"I didn't mean it. You know how people say 'he'd kill me," I added quickly.

"No. You meant it."

I swallowed.

"I'm thirsty. Will you get me something to drink?"

"Yeah."

He came back from the bar with another sweet, alcohol-free cocktail. I drank it quickly. I thought he brought the second one for himself, but he gave that one to me, too.

"You were home schooled," he said.

"Yes."