“Voilà!” she exclaimed, stepping back to admire her admittedly impressive handiwork. I just stared at myself in the mirror.
“How’d you do that?” I asked in astonishment.
“I’m not done yet,” Jennica said. It took her ten more minutes to apply bronzer, blush, lipstick, eyeliner, and mascara to my usually bare face. I looked in the mirror with trepidation, expecting to see something horrific (or at least something like her over-blushed mom). Instead, I looked … good.
“Hellooooo, hot mama!” Jennica said, grinning at me in the mirror.
I giggled. “This is … different. You’re like a miracle worker!”
Jennica shrugged. “Nah,” she said. “I didn’t do anything. I just played up what you’ve already got!”
I stared at the mirror and shook my head in amazement. She was right; I did look like me. Just a prettier version.
• • •
Ten minutes later, Jennica had changed too—into jeans, heels, and a sparkly purple tank (the difference being that she actually had real curves to fill it out)—and I had persuaded her that I needed a cardigan so I wouldn’t freeze to death. Grudgingly, she had handed one over. I intended to bring my Star Beck hoodie, too, because I figured it would be cold enough outside that I’d want to layer up.
We walked downstairs and found Jennica’s scantily clad mom removing a pizza from the oven while Jennica’s little sister, Anne, sat at the table, drinking a glass of milk.
“Just in time for dinner, girls!” Mrs. Arroyo exclaimed. Jennica started to protest, but her mom turned firm. “Jennica! I can’t send you and Lacey out of here with empty stomachs, now can I?” Without waiting for an answer, she added, “Wash some salad mix and get the dressing out, will you? Lacey, what would you like to drink?”
I sat next to Anne and flashed her a smile. She looked up from her glass, and I tried not to giggle when I noticed her milk mustache.
“Hey, you,” I said. “How’s it going?”
“Fine,” she answered gruffly. “What’s up with you?” Anne was twelve and right in the middle of that tough phase when you know you’re grown up, but the rest of the world still treats you like a kid. I knew she was trying to sound as adult as possible. I played along.
“Not much,” I said with a shrug.
“Got a boyfriend?” she asked, turning her gaze back to her milk.
I looked at her, surprised. “Um, no,” I said. “Do you?”
She glanced at Jennica, who was pouring salad into a bowl. Then she returned her attention to me. “Yeah,” she said casually, “I got a few options.”
I looked over at Jennica in time to see her roll her eyes. It had always bugged her that Anne seemed to copy every move she made. Her younger sister had insisted she was “playing the field” when Jennica was single, but now that Jennica had Brian, Anne was always saying cryptic things about how she had lots of boyfriend options.
“Having a boyfriend isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, kiddo,” Jennica muttered. I turned and glanced at her, wondering what that was all about.
We scarfed down our pizza and salad in the same kind of silence that pervaded my house. This surprised me. I’d just assumed that Jennica’s family was just as it had always been.
Apparently, I was wrong.
After Jennica and I had put our plates in the sink and wrapped the remaining slices of pizza in foil, Mrs. Arroyo stood up to give Jennica a hug and to pinch me on the cheek, which used to annoy me when I was a kid but which I now thought was kind of cute.
“Have a good time at the party, baby,” she said to Jennica.
Jennica nodded. “We will.”
“Don’t drink too much,” her mother said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “And call me if you can’t drive.”
I looked at Jennica in astonishment. But she merely nodded again, mumbled a goodbye, and grabbed my hand to drag me out the door.
“Bye!” Anne yelled behind us.
I waved, but I couldn’t even muster the words to say goodbye. I was still in shock.
As soon as we got outside and the door was shut behind us, I exploded. “Your mom knows you drink?”
I knew Jennica sometimes drank beer when she was at parties or out with Brian, and I thought it was wrong. She could get in huge trouble! But she was always saying that everybody did it, so why shouldn’t she?
“Yeah,” Jennica muttered. She was looking at the ground. “So?”
“Soooo,” I said, drawing the word out. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”
Jennica shrugged. “Whatever,” she said. “She’s cool, you know? She treats me like a grown-up now.”
I just stared at her. I didn’t even know what to say. What had happened to the old maternal, strict Mrs. Arroyo?
Jennica paused. “It’s just been recently,” she said. “Since my dad started dating the Spandex Leech. It’s like my mom suddenly turned sixteen again. I found her in my closet one day, trying on my clothes, when I got home from school.”
“That’s so … weird,” I said.
Jennica shrugged. “She seems happy. It’s no big deal. It’s cool.” She paused awkwardly, cleared her throat, and added, “Anyways, let’s go.”
Without another word, she strode over to her mom’s old Corolla, yanked open the door, and got inside. She slammed the door behind her and didn’t look at me. It took me a second to snap myself out of it and join her. As soon as my door was shut, she started the car, threw it into reverse, and backed out of the driveway. She switched quickly to drive, cut the wheel sharply, and peeled out from the curb, like she couldn’t get away from her house fast enough.
chapter 9
The party was in full swing by the time we got there. I followed Jennica and Brian toward the house, feeling more nervous than I usually did. Even though I’d been to parties before with Jennica, I knew I didn’t belong. I didn’t drink. I didn’t have a boyfriend. I didn’t make out with random guys. And I didn’t really care whether people thought I was cool or not.
As we walked through the front door, we were blasted immediately by a wave of thumping bass turned up as loud as it could go. An old Kanye West song was throbbing from the speakers, and more people than should ever be crammed into any space were jostling and gyrating all over the Newells’ perfect living room.
Most of the girls were dressed skimpily and were laughing too loudly and swaying a little bit on their stiletto heels. The boys were talking in unnaturally booming voices, slapping one another on the back and shamelessly ogling the girls. And everyone was carrying big red plastic cups filled with what I guessed was beer. In fact, I saw several people sloshing it onto the carpet as they talked.
Jennica turned to me with a big smile. “Isn’t this awesome?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“Um …,” I responded.
“Let’s go get some beer!” she said loudly, close to my ear so that I could hear her over the music.
“I don’t really want any!” I said back.
“What?” she shouted. I repeated myself, but she shook her head again. The music was too loud. I shrugged and followed her and Brian through the living room, out the French doors in the back. There was a line of about a dozen people waiting for beer while Scott Moore, who was in my English class, cheerfully pumped the keg handle. There was a couple kissing on the hanging swing near the house, and a stressed-out-looking senior girl, whose name I thought was Trish, was furiously texting on her phone while she chewed on her lower lip.
Jennica, Brian, and I got in line.
“Wassup?” Scott said as we got close to the keg. He grinned and handed us empty red cups. “Who’s first?”
Jennica filled up her cup. “Your turn!” Scott told me as she stepped away from the keg and took a sip of her beer.
I hesitated. I’d always been so against drinking. But wouldn’t it be nerdy to say no with a keg right in front of me?
Just then, I saw Sam come out of the house, scanning the yard. My jaw dr
opped. What was he doing here? At the same time, he caught sight of me, smiled, and waved. I ducked my head, immediately feeling guilty, like I’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Lacey?” Scott prompted, glancing at the growing line behind me. I snapped to attention and looked from him to the beer keg and back.
“Um, no thanks,” I mumbled.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure.” Brian filled up and then slipped an arm around Jennica’s waist.
“It’s freezing out here,” she said. I couldn’t help noticing that she wrinkled her nose a little bit every time she sipped, like the beer tasted bad. Why would you drink something you didn’t even like? “Can we go inside?” she asked.
I followed her and Brian back into the hot, loud, crowded living room. It felt like a sauna. A tall guy I didn’t recognize splashed beer on me as he walked by.
“C’mon, Lacey!” Jennica shouted over the music. “Dance with us!” She took another big sip of her beer.
I shook my head and glanced around the room. I never should have come.
Just then, Logan and Sydney walked by, both of them clutching beer cups. From the looks of it, they’d been here for a while. One side of Logan’s shirt was untucked, and his hair was a little messed up. I wondered how much he’d been drinking.
“Hey,” he said when he saw me. “What’s up?”
I could smell the beer on his breath. I shrugged. “Nothing.” I glanced pointedly at the cup in his hand. Logan shifted it to his other hand.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m with Jennica and Brian,” I said.
Logan’s eyes landed on my cup. “You’re drinking?” he asked incredulously.
I realized it must look like I was holding a beer I’d finished, rather than one I’d never started. “So what if I am?” I asked.
“You don’t drink,” he said flatly.
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t think you drank either,” I said.
“Yeah, well.” He paused. “Maybe you don’t know everything about me.”
“Yeah, well,” I said. “I guess I don’t.”
After I walked away from my brother and Sydney, I looked for Jennica and Brian, but I didn’t see them anywhere. Amy Tan, from my trig class, told me she’d spotted them walking upstairs.
“To make out,” she added unnecessarily. “Lots of people make out up there.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ve got it.”
I felt more out of place than ever. I walked through the backyard, past the beer keg, past the handful of couples making out near the deck. The backyard was larger than I would have thought, and there was a small lake at the end of the lawn. I made my way down to the old wooden dock, pulling Jennica’s cardigan more tightly around me as the wind whipped in stronger now that I wasn’t shielded by the trees in the backyard anymore. I shivered, but I liked the feel of the breeze against my face.
I sat down on the edge of the dock, took off my strappy heels, and dangled my feet over.
The night was cold around me, and I was surprised at just how far away the sounds of the party seemed. It was quiet enough that I could hear crickets chirping and the occasional splash of a fish or a bird in the water. Across the lake, the darkness was punctuated by porch lights of houses, which looked much farther away than they did during the day
I was so tuned in to the sounds of the water that I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone until I heard a voice just behind me.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I jumped about a mile in the air and whipped my head around, my heart pounding double time.
It was Sam, standing there, looking down at me. He was backlit by the lights from the Newell house far behind us, and he seemed to almost glow in the shadows. I blinked a few times and tried to slow my racing heart. By the time my eyes adjusted, I noticed he had two cups, one of which he was holding out to me. “No thanks,” I mumbled. “I don’t drink.”
Sam looked amused. “Me neither,” he said. “All you need to do is take a walk through the party back there, and you realize how stupid it makes people act.”
I looked at the cup again and raised an eyebrow.
He laughed. “It’s not beer. It’s Coke. I had a few cans in my Jeep.”
I didn’t know what to say. I took the plastic cup from his hand. “Oh. Thank you.”
Sam sat down beside me, close enough that our thighs were almost touching. I could feel the heat from him. It made me shiver.
“So what are you doing down here?” he asked.
I shrugged and looked out at the water. “I don’t know. I just wanted to be alone, I guess.”
He seemed to consider this for a second. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” I said, surprising myself with how quickly the word came out of my mouth. “I mean, that’s okay. I don’t care what you do.”
“Why are you mad at me?” he asked.
“I’m not mad,” I said.
“Was it something I said the other day?” he persisted. “When I drove you home?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Well, I am worried about it. You’ve been avoiding me since then. And I don’t know what I did.”
I squinted, wishing I didn’t have to explain it to him. He’d never understand. “It’s nothing personal. I just don’t need another friend like you,” I said.
He stared. “What do you mean?”
I gazed out at the lake without answering. After a moment, I felt his hand close over mine. It was big and warm and reminded me a little bit of the way my father’s hand had fit around mine when I was little. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.
“Please,” he said. “Tell me what I did wrong.”
I hesitated. His hand didn’t move. And strangely, I realized I didn’t want it to. “Look, I know I’m being dumb,” I said. “But I didn’t want to talk about my dad with you. I’m sick of having to explain it to people who have no idea what it feels like. Okay? Can you just drop it?”
He looked surprised and withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m just tired of people feeling sorry for me,” I added.
“I don’t feel sorry for you,” Sam said.
“Whatever,” I muttered. I paused. “And I hate it when people say they know how I feel. Okay? Because you don’t know how I feel.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know.” He paused. “But I do understand, Lacey. Better than you think.”
Our eyes met in the darkness, and he held my gaze. I blinked a few times. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. “So how come you don’t drink?”
He gave me a half-smile. “First of all, I hate the taste of beer. Why would I drink something I don’t like?”
“True,” I said. I’d never had it, but it smelled terrible.
“It tastes like socks,” Sam said, reading my mind. “Dirty socks.”
I giggled.
“Plus, it makes people act like idiots.” I laughed. “True again.”
“But the biggest reason, I guess, is that it’s dangerous,” he said. “Think about how many people in that house are going to drive home tonight. What if they get into an accident and get hurt or cause an accident that hurts someone else?”
I felt cold, the way I did whenever I thought of car accidents. Suddenly, I couldn’t fathom ever wanting to drink anything in my entire life, if it could lead to something like that.
“I’d never drink and drive,” Sam added.
“Me neither,” I agreed. “No way.”
I looked up at the sky. It was clear out tonight, with just a few wispy clouds drifting across the nearly full moon like pieces of gauzy silk suspended in space. I searched for the brightest star and recited the familiar words in my head: Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish, I wish tonight. Then, without even thinking about it, I silently wi
shed that Sam Stone would kiss me.
Immediately, I regretted it. I didn’t necessarily believe in wishes coming true or anything like that, but what if they did? Shouldn’t I have wished for my dad to be safe in heaven? Or for my mom to stop crying in her room at night? Or for Tanner to come out of his shell? Or for Jennica’s mom to snap out of her weird teenager phase? What if I’d just wasted a wish? And why, of all the things I could wish for, would I wish for Sam to kiss me?
“So, I think I’m going to go,” Sam said after a minute. “My mom worries when I’m out too late.”
“My mom doesn’t worry about anything anymore,” I said before I could think about it.
Sam looked at me closely. “I bet she worries more than you realize.”
I wanted to tell him that he had no idea what it was like in my family, and he had no idea what my mom was thinking. But there was something in his eyes that stopped me from speaking.
“Are you okay getting home?” he asked.
I hesitated. “I’m actually spending the night at Jennica’s,” I said.
“She’s driving?”
I nodded.
“But she’s drinking,” Sam said. “I saw her.”
I shrugged. “I’ll figure it out,” I said. “Don’t worry.” But I was worried. I didn’t have my license, so I couldn’t get us home, and there was no way I was climbing in a car with someone who’d had a few beers. I figured we’d have to call Jennica’s mom, which I knew Jennica would argue with me about.
“How about I drive you home?” he asked. “You and Jennica and her boyfriend, I mean.”
“You don’t have to—” I started to say.
But he cut me off. “I’m not leaving you in a situation like that,” Sam said firmly. He stood and pulled me up. “Let’s go get her and tell her it’s time to leave.”
Sam didn’t let go of my hand as he led me into the party and upstairs to find Jennica and Brian. Ten minutes later, his fingers were still intertwined with mine as the four of us walked out to the street to pile into Sam’s Jeep. I realized I didn’t want to let go.
After Page 7
