by Jo Knowles
By the end of the party, people are totally out of control, getting sick in the bathroom, hooking up in any open space available. I keep an eye out for Lucas, but I don’t see him. Not that I want to be with him, but . . . well, maybe I do.
I keep replaying that time on the patio with him and wish it had been Leah who walked out to see us instead of Jess. I can almost remember his hand on my breast, and Leah’s words from way back, when she first told me about getting felt up and I didn’t know what it meant. It felt about as romantic as she described — someone rubbing my tit. But it also felt pretty good.
I look around for something more to drink, even though I don’t really need it. Jess and Web find me in the kitchen.
“Come on,” Jess says. “Escape walk.”
“What about all these people?” I ask. Web shrugs, like he doesn’t understand what the big deal is, leaving a bunch of drunken strangers in his house.
It’s dark and cold when we step outside. Fall is coming fast this year. Web brought a travel mug with orange juice and vodka with him. The three of us pass it back and forth as we walk to the gazebo behind his house.
We sit on the floor so we can’t see the house, only the silhouettes of the trees around us. The music from inside feels far away.
After a while, we hear cars starting as people begin to leave. I swear Web’s keeping track of how many, waiting until he thinks everyone has left.
When we finally go back inside, everyone’s gone except for a few people passed out on the floor and on the two couches in the living room.
Jess and I follow Web up to his room. He pulls off his sweatshirt and pants and then draws back his blankets.
“Looks like none of us are getting lucky tonight, girls. Care to join me?”
Jess strips to her tank top and panties and crawls in. I hesitate, standing at the edge of the bed.
Web pats the empty space next to him. “It’s OK, Laine. You know you’re not my type.” He smiles the way I love, even though it still hurts. I take off my pants but keep my long-sleeve shirt on. Then I crawl in. Web spoons me from behind, his warm arm draped over me. He breathes steadily in my ear. It feels good, and horribly hopeless.
“’Night, guys,” Jess says from the other side of the bed.
Web is already snoring softly.
“Good night,” I whisper. I close my eyes, letting my hot tears slip down my jaw.
A few weeks later, Web has another, even bigger party. Web’s house is the perfect place to have parties because his parents are never home. Most weekends they go to their place on the Vineyard. And in November they’ll go to Florida and only come back north for Thanksgiving and Christmas reunions with Web. Other than that, they think the house is unoccupied, with their perfect son at boarding school making them proud. Ha.
I’ve been drinking steadily for about an hour before I find my way to the bathroom in the master bedroom. Jess and I have put an “out of order” sign on the door so people will think it’s broken and we’ll never have to wait in line.
When I’m done, I open the door and step into Web’s parents’ bedroom. Someone has turned off the lights. I don’t think anything of it, but as I step into the dark, I feel a hand grab my wrist. At the same time someone whispers “Shhh” in my ear.
My heart races.
“Nice party, Lainey,” she says.
“Shit! God, Leah. You scared me.”
She sucks in her breath. “Nice to see you, too.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask. My heart pounds in my chest the way it does whenever I’m scared. The way it does when I’m with Leah.
“I followed you.”
I don’t tell her that’s not what I meant. I would have thought she’d consider herself too cool for partying with people her own age.
“Sorry I scared you,” she says. She walks over to a side table and clicks on a reading lamp, then sits on the bed. The low light casts a dark glow over her skin. She has on a silk tank top and definitely no bra. She pats the space next to her for me to sit down.
I stay standing, still recovering from the shock of seeing her again.
“I won’t bite,” she says. She shifts on the bed. She’s wearing a sheer skirt that shows the shape of her perfect thighs through it. I look down at my loose jeans.
I try to act casual when I walk over to her and sit down.
“So, how’ve you been, Lainey?”
“I’ve been fine,” I say, matching her fake cheerfulness. “How about you?”
She smiles and pushes her blond hair away from her face with the back of her hand. I catch a quick glimpse of her wrist but don’t see a scar. Maybe she only tried to slit one wrist. Maybe it’s the other one.
“I’m fine, too,” she says.
“How’s Brooke?”
“Great. Never been better. She’s fulfilling her dream of becoming a court stenographer.”
“Yeah, your mom told me about that. That’s cool.” I relax a little, relieved the conversation isn’t about me. Or us.
“Whatever.” She starts to play with her silver thumb ring.
I wait for her to ask me how Christi is, but she doesn’t.
“So, is this your thing now, Lainey? These parties every weekend?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” I say.
“Hmm. Well, I’m glad you have friends,” she says. I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or sincere. Her voice sounds quiet now. Sad.
I try to read her feelings, but her face seems vacant. She’s wearing glittery blue-tint eye shadow with liner that makes her eyes look happy, even though it’s obvious she isn’t. She still looks beautiful underneath it all, but it’s not the beauty she used to have. She seems empty.
When our eyes meet, she half smiles at me.
“Did you come here with friends?” I ask.
She looks away from me and pushes her hair behind her ears again. “Nah,” she says quietly. “My boyfriend.”
She pulls her skirt down tight against her thighs. If I didn’t know better, I would think she was nervous. But Leah doesn’t get nervous. Not around me.
“Where is he?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Trying to score something, most likely. What about you, Lainey? You have a boyfriend yet?” She slides closer to me. “Or do you still prefer girls?”
I’m not going to let her do this again.
I stand up and get ready to walk away, but then I turn around. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I prefer guys, Leah. Guys. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Why would that disappoint me?”
“You know why.”
“I have an idea,” she says. She stands and walks over to me, blocking the space between me and the door. “Why don’t you prove it to me?” She takes my hand. “Kiss me right now and see if you feel anything. Prove to me that you only like guys.”
I pull my hand away. “I don’t have to prove anything. I already know.”
“No, you don’t,” she whispers.
“Yes, I do,” I say back.
I walk around her to the door and flick on the overhead light in the room. Leah squints at me in the bright light.
“Why do you always do this?” I ask.
“Do what?”
“You know what. You act all nice, and then you get weird and nasty.”
“Nasty? Oh, come on. I’m only goofing on you, Laine. God, you’re so sensitive.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Why is it so important to you to like guys, anyway? Guys are losers. There’s nothing wrong with liking girls, ya know.”
“I never said there was anything wrong with it. I just don’t.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
I want to hit her. “Because you won’t drop it! After all these years, you keep hanging it over my head. You’re so convinced you know me. You don’t know anything.”
“I know it still bothers you.”
“Maybe you’re the one it bothers!” I say back. “If what we did means I like girls, then what abou
t you? Why do you have a boyfriend?”
She shrugs. “It was different for you than it was for me.”
“What? How? How would you know?”
“It just was. Trust me.”
I shake my head.
“Aw, Laine. You need to get it through your head that no one cares what you are. Just be happy for once in your life and stop worrying about it. I’m only trying to help you.”
“How is this helping? You’re the one who said we should move on, Leah. So why do you show up to torment me? I’m trying to be happy, but you keep wrecking any chance I have!”
She honestly looks hurt at that.
“You call this happy, Lainey? You look pretty lonely to me.”
“I have friends now, Leah. Friends that I made on my own.”
“Really? Where are they?”
I feel myself deflating. Jess and Web are my friends. I know they are.
“Where are your friends, Leah?” I shoot back. “You’re so worried about my being happy. What about you?”
She smiles at me, but it looks like it hurts. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m going to cry.
“Just leave me alone from now on, OK?” I say quietly. “Just stay away from me.” My voice cracks a little.
“Lainey, wait. I’m sorry, OK? I really am trying to help you.”
“If you really want to help me, stay away from me.”
“Lainey, just — just wait.” She comes toward me slowly and reaches for my shoulders with both hands. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she says quietly. The points of her fingertips press into my shoulders.
“Don’t touch me,” I say.
She lets go, then frowns, as if now she’s the one who’s going to start crying.
“OK, OK,” I say, hating myself for giving in so fast. “What is it?”
She moves closer to me.
“I want you.” She laughs and steps back.
“Fuck you.” My cheeks burn. I hate her so much. I’ve hated her before, but nothing like this.
“Lainey, wait. I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
I keep walking.
“Please wait? I really do want to tell you something.”
But I don’t wait. I don’t even look back. When I step into the hallway, I almost bump into Jess.
“Hey,” she says. “Everything OK?”
“Yeah,” I say, looking back to see Leah standing in the middle of the room, smiling at us. “Fine.”
Jess makes a concerned face and puts her hand on my shoulder. “You sure?”
I nod, wondering how much Jess saw and heard. I know Leah can see Jess touching me. I can almost feel her smirk. Go ahead, I think. This is what real friends do.
“Come on,” I say. I don’t look back again. We find Web in the kitchen, drinking with some guys from his school.
Jess grabs his hand and tells him we all need to take a walk.
Outside, the air is still pretty cold, but we make our way to our gazebo and huddle together.
“What’s up?” Web asks.
Jess looks at me.
I don’t say anything.
“Leah Greene was giving Lainey shit in your parents’ bedroom,” Jess says.
“That psycho? What’s she doing here, anyway?”
I squeeze my arms around myself.
“Lainey, what was it about?” Jess asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing,” I say.
“It didn’t seem like nothing.”
“Why, what happened?” Web asks.
I feel myself slipping away from them.
“Lainey?” Jess asks.
What did she hear? What did she see?
Tell them, I think. Just tell them.
I open my mouth.
Tell them.
“Ancient history,” I say. “I’m fine. Really.”
I know they don’t believe me, but they each put an arm around me and hug me from either side.
“We’ll protect you from her,” Web says.
Jess gives me another squeeze. “Definitely.”
I close my eyes and force myself not to cry.
What would Mr. Mitchell say?
Did I just fail the friendship test?
Or did Jess and Web just pass it?
During Thanksgiving break Web’s parents are home, so he doesn’t have any parties. He tells Jess and me he’s taking us on a mystery date. He says to dress warmly and picks us up at my house. The only other hint of where he’s taking us is the big wool blanket folded up on the backseat of his car. Jess raises her eyebrows and yells, “Shotgun!” before jumping into the front passenger seat.
Web hands her a thermos as he pulls out of my driveway. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Mmmmm, you’ll like this,” Jess says to me, handing the thermos back between the front seats.
I’m sure it’s some concoction with more alcohol than anything else, but when I take a sip, it’s just hot chocolate. Rich, perfect hot chocolate. When I swallow, the warmth travels down to my chest and stays there.
Twenty minutes later, we’re at a state park we used to go to on field trips in elementary school.
Jess and I follow Web along a well-worn path to a large pond surrounded by trees and picnic tables and a few grassy spots, though the grass now is brown and the ground is frozen. Web spreads out the blanket on the hard ground. We watch some joggers and dog walkers make their way around the pond. The wind is cold on our faces, but it feels good. After a while we lie back and try to soak up the warmth of the sun.
“I see a turtle,” Web says, squinting behind his dark sunglasses.
“That’s not a turtle; it’s a whale,” says Jess.
The sun warms my face. The clouds are like paintings slowly sweeping across the blue sky. I don’t see a turtle or a whale.
“I see a small horse chasing a bigger one,” I say.
“Where? I can’t see that!” Jess shades her eyes with her hand.
The horse clouds glide in front of the sun and cast a shadow over us and the blanket.
“Your horses just turned gray,” Web says. He stretches his arms out and pulls us closer to him. His down parka smells like outside and feels soft against my cheek.
In the distance a child screams excitedly. I sit up just as a little girl runs past our feet, followed by another girl who looks about the same age. The first one has two long braids that stick out from under a bright red hat. She reaches a tree and yells, “Safety!”
But the other one ignores her and grabs her arm. “Got you,” she says.
“No fair!” the long-haired one whines.
“Baby,” the other one says. She has short hair that’s almost bleached white. Instead of a hat, she has a fuzzy pink scarf wrapped around her neck. The ends trail behind her regally. She turns to walk away, but the long-haired one shouts, “Wait!” and runs to her. She slips her mittened hand into the other girl’s, and they walk away, swinging their joined hands up and down.
“They’re cute,” Jess says. She’s propped on her elbows, watching the girls skip away.
From behind, they look familiar. I can almost feel Leah’s hand in mine. I look down at the scar on my palm and imagine the shadow of the letters she wrote all those years ago in permanent marker. When I glance up again, the girls dash behind another set of trees.
“You two are way cuter,” Web says.
Jess nestles her head back onto his chest.
“Lie down with us, Lainey,” Web says.
They smile at me, and Web holds out his free arm. Somehow when I lean back down, my head winds up resting in his armpit. His black coat is warm from the sun and cozy against my face. But instead of feeling comforting, it’s smothering. I roll away from him and watch the trees where the girls disappeared.
“What’s wrong?” Web asks.
What’s wrong? What’s wrong? I wish I knew. Leah’s voice burns in my ears. You call this happy, Lainey? You look pretty lonely to me.
I shake my head. “Nothing,
” I say. I know it’s not true. But it should be. I picture the three of us — me, Web, and Jess — going to all those parties, IMing one another, passing out together in Web’s bed, and getting up early to have breakfast and coffee and gossip about the night before. It all feels like a movie I watch but I’m not really a part of.
If Web and Jess are such good friends, why do I feel so lonely? If Web and Jess are such good friends, why can’t I tell them the truth? The questions pool in the back of my throat. I know the answers all come down to Leah. And me. And what we did. And that I just can’t bear the thought of Web and Jess knowing.
A flow of hair swings out from behind a tree and disappears. A girl giggles in the distance.
I sit up again and pull my knees to my chest. I wrap my arms around my legs.
“You sure you’re OK?” Jess asks, sitting up, too.
Web joins her, so we’re all sitting on the edge of the blanket, watching the woods beyond the pond.
Web’s shoulder touches mine.
“It’s just that . . .” I try. “Those girls . . . they remind me . . .” The words choke me. I swallow them and let them slide down into my chest. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”
Web reaches for my hand and makes me let go of myself. His hand is warm and firm in mine. I will him not to let go. Ever.
The long-haired girl comes tearing out from behind the trees with a huge grin on her face. Her braids bounce against her puffy red coat.
The short-haired girl isn’t anywhere to be seen.
I know the trick. If the long-haired girl is winning, the other one will simply say she isn’t playing anymore. I want to tell her. I want to tell her to go find a real friend.
But who am I to give advice on friendship? If I was a real friend, I would tell the truth. I would give Web and Jess the ultimate friendship test.
I study my hand in Web’s, how his fingers curl around mine like a promise.
I open my mouth to try again, but I still can’t figure out how to start.
Web eases his hand out of my grasp as he lifts it to shade his face from the sun. His eyes meet mine. They tell me he knows I’m hiding something.
