by Alyson Noel
I see JC lounging in the Jacuzzi between two girls I vaguely recognize as frosh-soph cheerleaders. They’re draped all over him, kissing him, and when he reaches for his beer, he looks right at me.
I want to look away, but it’s too late now, so we sit there gazing at each other, and I start remembering how much I hurt him, and I wonder if he still hates me.
Then JC smiles and goes, “Hey, Rio, come ere.” He waves me over to join them.
And while it’s nice to know he’s not holding a grudge, I’m definitely not interested in making it a menage a quatre. So I give a little wave back, then get up and go inside the house.
I wander into the den where I find Kristi and Kayla sitting in a circle playing a game of spin the bottle. But it’s definitely not the sixth-grade edition I’m familiar with. In this version an empty champagne bottle is spun and whomever it lands on gets to hook up with the spinner.
Kristi motions for me to join them, but I just shake my head since it’s not like I can play this game. I mean, I’m not single like they are. I came here with my boyfriend. So I just stand there watching the next spin, and when Kevin spins on Kayla I’m really happy for her because she’s liked him forever. And as I’m watching them go upstairs together, Tyler walks up and whispers, “Wanna play?”
His hand is on my back and he’s pushing me toward the circle, so I take a sip of my beer and say, “Okay.”
We sit across from each other so we’ll have a better shot of getting the bottle to land where we want. And when Drew takes the next spin, it lands right between this girl Heather and me.
I just kind of laugh, and scootch over so it’s more on Heather, but Drew goes, “Nice try, Rio. When it lands in the middle you get to choose who to kiss.” Then he starts moving toward me.
I look frantically at Tyler but he just shrugs, then I look over at Kristi and she’s giving me the death stare. And before I can stop him, Drew is kissing me and trying to shove his tongue down my throat.
I can feel everybody watching, and I’m waiting for Tyler to do something to make him stop, but he just sits there. So I push Drew away, and wipe my mouth with my sleeve. And when I finally look at Tyler, he’s just drinking his beer like nothing happened. But when I look at Kristi she’s totally glaring at me.
I take a sip of my beer and watch Heather spin, and the bottle goes around and around until it finally lands on Kristi.
Okay, girls don’t have to hook up with each other, unless they’re into it. And since Heather and Kristi aren’t into it they don’t.
But they still have to kiss.
So they crawl toward each other, and they’re both doing it all sexy like Halle Berry in Cat Woman. But I know they’re just doing that for the guys ‘cause guys always want to see stuff like that.
But then Kristi kisses Heather—with her mouth open! And she’s not the first to pull away.
And even though it’s such an obviously staged Madonna-Britney moment, it’s also kinda strange since Kristi’s always calling Mason a lesbo, like that’s such a horrible thing to be. Yet now she’s making out with Heather.
I’m thinking about all this as Kristi takes her spin. So it’s a while before I realize it landed on Tyler.
But I know it’s a mistake, since Drew’s sitting right next to him, so it’s obvious her aim was a little off. I look at Kristi and smile, since now she’ll have to spin again, because it’s not like she can hook up with my boyfriend.
But Kristi looks right at me as she stands up.
And when I look at Tyler, he just shrugs.
But I know they’re just fooling around, so I go, “Okay you guys. Very funny. You can sit down now.” And then I laugh.
And while I’m laughing they go upstairs together.
Thirty-three
I don’t go after them. I just sit there in the circle like a coma victim. I know I should get up, I know I should do something, but it’s like I’m frozen, and everything around me seems surreal.
And when that stupid bottle eventually lands on me, I look up and see this girl I barely know crawling toward me. So I jump up and run.
“Bitch!” she yells.
I run into the first bathroom I see, lock the door behind me, and slide all the way down to the floor where I sit with my head in my hands for the longest time. And when someone bangs on the door and tries to come in, I yell, “Go away!” Then I reach for a guest towel, bury my face in it, and break into loud, choking tears. When I come up for air, the towel’s smeared all black with mascara, so I toss it in the trash, get up, and start pacing.
I can’t believe what just happened! I can’t believe Kristi actually did that—right in front of my face! And the way Tyler acted so casual makes me wonder if they’ve been hooking up all along, and I’ve been too stupid to see it. I mean, ever since last weekend on the yacht, she’s been hanging all over him, and following him around. And I’m such a total dumbass I just sat back and let it happen, all the while convincing myself he’d wait for me!
I sit on the counter next to the sink and put my face in my hands. God, I’m such a fucking loser I didn’t even try to stop them! Yet what was I supposed to do? Chase them down with the garden hose? And what if I were able to stop them? What would I be left with then? A boyfriend and a best friend who hook up right in front of me? I mean, do I really want friends like that?
I turn and look at my reflection in the mirror, I’m a total wreck. My hair’s all knotted, my lip gloss is smeared down my chin, and my cheeks are glazed with thick black mascara. I lean over the sink, pump some antibacterial soap into my hand, and wash it all away, desperate to start over.
When I’m finished I just sit there staring at my pale, bare face. And it suddenly occurs to me how all this time I’ve been so worried about sleeping with Tyler when I’m not in love with him, that I never noticed that Tyler’s not in love with me.
I run my fingers through my hair, breaking through clumps of tangles, then I empty my makeup bag, and start from the beginning. When I finally look normal again on the outside, I go pharming through the cabinets looking for something to make me feel normal again on the inside.
But all I find is a small bottle of aspirin (and it really is aspirin, I checked), a brand-new purple-and-white toothbrush still in its box, a black rubber band with a long blond hair attached, and one super tampon.
When I open the door some freshman girls shove past me and give me a dirty look. And it makes me wonder if word’s already out about what a joke I am and how my boyfriend’s upstairs with someone who used to be my best friend.
I wander into the kitchen where some guys are doing shots, and I ask them to pour me one.
Then another.
And when I ask for a third, one of them goes, “Shit, Rio, take a breather.”
So I grab the bottle and pour it myself. And when my glass is empty, I slam it on the black granite counter and leave.
I’m feeling kind of dizzy, but I manage to navigate through the living room, and I know I should just go home, go to bed, and deal with everything tomorrow But I refuse to leave without confronting Kristi.
Then right as I’m about to go in the backyard, Jen Jen comes in. And I’m so happy to see one of my real friends, that I grab her arm and go, “Jen, oh, my god, I have to talk to you.”
“Wha?” she says, sounding messed-up and struggling to focus.
“Jen, I’m serious. I really need to talk to you,” I say, holding on to her, fearing she might fall over if I don’t. I mean, she’s way worse off than me.
“Rio, relaxsh,” she says, smiling and pulling away.
“Jen, please I really need you,” I plead.
“You’re always so serioush.” And then she yells across the room, “Hey, Parker!”
And I’m starting to get annoyed so I go, “Jen!”
But she walks away and goes, “I’m going to talk to Parker!”
I watch her stagger across the room, but I don’t follow. Instead I head for the study or home office, or
library, or whatever they call this room full of books no one reads, the latest Apple computer, and a brown Ralph Lauren leather couch.
I’m hoping I can be alone so I can try to sort out exactly what I’m going to say to Kristi when she surfaces, but Drew and Marc are in there, all bent over a table, doing coke.
I’m standing in the doorway when Drew looks up and goes, “Hey, there’s some extra if you want.” He motions to the powdery mirror in front of him.
So I join him on the couch, lean down, and Hoover it up, hoping it will clear my head and give me a little twenty-minute boost. Then he hands me the bottle of beer he’s been drinking from, so I take a sip. But when I go to hand it back I remember how much Kristi likes him. And the expression on her face when he kissed me. And how she’s hooking up with my boyfriend right this very minute.
So I look in his eyes and smile. And when he tries to grab the bottle I pull it back and take another drink. I do that like two or three more times until he finally wrestles it from me.
When he kisses me the first time Marc is sitting there watching.
But when he kisses me the second time, Marc’s gone and the door is closed.
Thirty-four
The second I lie down I know I’m in trouble. So I close my eyes hoping that’ll make me feel better but it just makes the spinning even worse. I move my right leg off the couch and onto the floor, so I can dig my heel deep into the carpet and make the room stand still, but Drew must think it’s an invitation ‘cause when I open my eyes again, I see him sliding his pants all the way down and positioning himself between my opened legs.
I try to shake my head no and ask him to stop, because I never meant for this to happen, I was just trying to get back at Kristi. But his mouth is pressing hard against mine, so I can’t get the words out. And even though the room is spinning out of control, I’m starting to feel kind of sleepy again, so I close my eyes, for just a minute.
I can feel his hands reaching back to undo my bra and it makes me wonder what happened to my sweater and cami. So I start to feel around on the floor, trying to find them, but he grabs my wrist and holds my arms up high, so now I can’t touch anything.
He yanks my bra roughly, up over my head, and I can feel his hand and mouth moving all over my breasts. He’s squeezing them kind of hard and it’s really starting to hurt, but just as I’m about to tell him that, I feel this wave of nausea. So I close my eyes again, willing it to stop.
And then everything’s quiet. And Jas is telling me I’m beautiful, just like he did that day in art class. And it makes me feel so good, and so happy, and so loved, that I’m about to tell him that I’ve missed him, and that I think he’s beautiful too. But then he starts pushing my skirt up around my waist and yanking my panties down to my knees. And he’s hurting me.
But when I open my eyes, I see it’s not Jas. It’s still Drew.
And I know I have to stop him. Because he’s not the right one, and it’s not supposed to happen like this. So I go, “Stop it.” But I don’t think he heard me because he keeps yanking on my thong. So I press my legs together as tight as I can and go, “Stop it!”
But he won’t stop.
So I kick him in the balls.
And then he stops.
I didn’t kick him that hard, but he’s naked, so I guess it must have hurt, because he screams.
And while he’s screaming, I jump off the couch, find my bra, and shove it in my purse. Then I put on my cami, grab my sweater, and make a run for the door.
I look back just as I open it and he’s all hunched over, cupping his hands between his legs. “You fucking bitch!” he yells.
But I just slam the door behind me.
I must look pretty bad, because the second I’m out of there a bunch of kids look at me and point. And some of the girls even laugh.
But no one asks if I’m okay.
I run my hands through my hair which is like a big, tangled mess, fold my arms across my chest since I’m no longer wearing a bra, and head straight for the front door, desperate to get out of here and go home.
Kristi’s coming down the stairs, and even though I’ve been waiting all this time to confront her, after everything that just happened it no longer seems important.
But she walks right up to me and goes, “What the hell happened?”
I ignore her, and try to brush past.
“Hel-lo? I’m talking to you.” She’s following right behind me.
I’m about to open the door when I turn and say, “I can’t fucking believe you.”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes, and puts her hand on her hip. “You can’t really be upset about that?”
“How long have you guys been hooking up?” I ask, dreading the answer.
She shakes her head. “Get a grip. It’s just a game.” Then she looks me up and down and goes, “Like you should talk.”
“Excuse me?”
“If I remember right you were totally making out with. Drew right in front of us!”
“I was not making out with him!” I say, louder than I’d planned.
“Oh, and did you come here braless? Or did someone take it off for you?” She narrows her eyes and smirks.
“You have no idea what just happened,” I say, and start to turn away.
“Well, knowing you, nothing happened, because nobody’s ever good enough for you. Not even your own boyfriend. Poor Tyler, it was the least I could do.”
She’s standing there smiling, and she’s so beautiful and perfect-looking you’d never guess the horrible things she’s capable of. And it makes me feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. But even worse, I feel like the world’s biggest sucker for trusting her. “I can’t believe I thought you were my friend,” I say, reaching for the door handle.
“Get real, I’m the best friend you ever had! Before me you were just some big weirdo with a lame camera, really bad clothes, and loser friends.” She shakes her head, and tosses her long dark hair. “I felt sorry for you. And because I’m such a nice person I decided to give you a shot at something better. It’s because of me that you got to date the two hottest guys in school, and have everyone worship you! I’m the reason you’re popular! I rescued you!”
I stand there gripping the doorknob knowing that she’s right about some things, but wrong about others. But I don’t say anything. I just open the door, I’ve got to get out of here.
“I’m just being honest,” she continues. “You know, everyone’s really getting tired of how you act like you’re better than them. I heard some girls call you a stuck-up bitch.”
“Sure they weren’t talking about you?” I say, walking out the door.
“Oh, and now you’re leaving? You think you’re too good for my party?”
I don’t speak. I just walk.
“If you leave, I swear you won’t have one friend come Monday.”
But I just keep walking.
Even when she yells, “You’ll be sorry!”
When the door slams behind me, I start running. But halfway down the street I stop, and double-over in nausea. Then I start vomiting, over and over again, until it runs down the sidewalk.
It’s splattered all over my clothes, and there’s even some in my hair, but I just stand there bent over like the world’s biggest dumbass, vomiting and sobbing onto my mom’s shoes.
Then a car pulls up beside me, and I hear someone go, “Hey, are you okay?”
I recognize his voice. And it’s not Tyler.
But I don’t want anyone to see me like this, especially him. So I start walking quickly down the street, wiping my face with my sweater and refusing to look beside me.
“Rio, stop,” he says.
But I can’t. So I look over briefly and wave at Jas, like everything’s okay. And as I’m turning away I get a glimpse of a girl sitting next to him.
So I start running. And I don’t stop until I get home.
Thirty-five
When I walk in the door, part of me is relieved that my parents ar
e gone, and part of me wishes they weren’t, so they could see what a mess I am, and how fucked up my life is. And then I could stop pretending.
I go to my room, take off my clothes, and throw everything (including my mom’s shoes) in the little trash bin next to my desk. Then I reach in my purse, retrieve my bra, and throw that in there, too.
I get in the shower and turn on the water so hot it makes me cringe. Then I fill my palms with shampoo and bath gel, and I lather my hair and my body over and over until the vomit is washed away and my skin is bright and raw.
I pat myself dry with an oversized towel and weave my long, wet hair into a single braid. Then I slip into some old, worn flannel pajamas with faded pictures of strawberries and oranges, and pull on my favorite pair of old gray socks that come all the way up to my knees. Then I climb into bed.
But I can’t sleep because my mind is spinning around and around, but it’s no longer from the alcohol. It’s spinning with thoughts, and pictures, and things I don’t want to think about, and I know I’ll never get any sleep like this. So I open my desk drawer and grab a Valium that Kristi gave me. Then I place it on my tongue, and go into my bathroom for some water.
I fill up a glass, and just as I’m about to swallow I catch my reflection in the mirror.
And I think: Who are you?
Because the pathetic, messed-up girl in the mirror is unrecognizable. She’s like a mosaic of what everyone else wanted her to be. And I don’t remember there being any broken pieces before. Because I used to be whole.
So I spit into the sink, empty my glass, and watch the water chase the pill down the drain. Then I go back in my room and crawl into bed.
And when my mind finally quiets, I sleep.
When I wake up on Sunday the first thing that pops into my head is: Was that a dream?
But then I look at the bin full of smelly vomit clothes and I know it wasn’t.
I lie in bed until I hear my parents come home, then I hide the trash in my shower so they won’t come in here, see it, and start asking all kinds of questions. And when I climb back in bed I realize I’ve just chosen to lie again.
