“You were wondering about me? Doubtful. And as a side note, how exactly do you plan on getting that big-boy beverage out of here?” I ask.
I locate the one remaining Phish Food covered in thick ice crystals, and push past him.
“No, really. When I saw your little boyfriend at Grant’s party without you, I wondered where your gorgeous self was. Oh, and don’t you worry about me, I’ve got the best fake ID around. Grant’s being a douche about letting booze into the house, so I’m going to sneak this baby back inside,” he says, patting the case of Shiner Boch lovingly.
“Ben. Was. There?” I gulp each word, trying not to choke on them. I shouldn’t be surprised, I know Ben and Grant have been hanging out, but the mention of his name, is like a punch to the gut.
“Yeah, with some snooty looking chick. I guess that’s why you’re here – dressed like that.” He motions up and down at my wrinkled t-shirt and gym shorts. “And why you’re buying ice cream on a Friday night. Sucks. You should have called me though. We always did have a good time.” His smirk says that he’s thoroughly enjoying my horror at the news about Ben.
“Ben was there with someone? Who?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before. Cute, I guess if you’re into the whole stick-up-your-ass type. Me, not so much. Are you okay? You don’t look so hot. I mean, you do, you always do…”
“Whatever Daniel, just shut up for a second and let me think.” I shove the ice cream at him and press my hands to the sides of my head. I can hear the blood pounding in between my ears.
He stands there impatiently, questioning my sanity I presume.
“Listen, Daniel, I need you to do me a favor,” I say. I start toward the front of the store. I need to get out of here.
“Anything baby, what do you need from me?” He sounds hopeful, and horny.
“I need you to follow me to my house. I’m going to take this ice cream to my mom and change, and you’re going to take me back to the party with you.” My mom will eat the ice cream and then pass out like she always does and not notice I’m leaving the house when I’m supposed to be “grounded”. I hope.
“Sure thing, darlin’,” he says.
“Oh, and Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“I need you to get this too.” I hand him a bottle of tequila.
“Hey, Ben,” Sydney says.
She smiles politely at Caroline, while Tessa gives Linney the once over.
“Hi, Syd. Linney, this is Sydney and Tessa.” I introduce them out of obligation, but I’m peering over both of their heads searching the crowds of people for Quinn.
“Do you go to our school?” Tessa asks Caroline.
Caroline shakes her head. I can tell she’s uncomfortable. “Caroline’s a friend from Kentucky.” I tell them. The fact that Linney purses her lips tightly when I use the word “friend” doesn’t go unnoticed by me. Before I kissed her, everything was one-hundred per cent simple with Linney. Now, not so much.
“Oh, I see,” Tessa says curiously. She stares at me long enough to realize what I’m doing. “If you’re looking for Quinn, she isn’t here, she’s grounded or something.”
I’m not sure if I’m thankful there won’t be any drama, or let down that I didn’t at least get to see her, even if she wasn’t going to talk to me.
“I guess you knew that already though, right? Everyone knows everything going on but me,” Tessa mumbles to herself.
“Give it a rest, Tess. Quinn’s just having a tough time,” Sydney says.
“Everyone is entitled to have a bad day, Syd, but frankly, I could do without the daily dose of Quinnitude,” Tessa says, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically.
Caroline glances up at me with a searching expression that translates to, can we go, yet? It was her idea to come in the first place. She wanted to get out and meet people, and I didn’t disagree. Really, the last thing I wanted to do was sit around the house with Caroline and my mom talking about the past, or worse, Caroline reading more into the kiss than I intended. I can tell that meeting people like Tessa was not exactly what she had in mind, though.
“Did I hear my name?” Quinn appears out of nowhere. Ah, hell. She meets my eyes for the quickest of seconds, her eyes severe as daggers.
“Hey, bitch, I thought you said you were grounded?” Tessa says to her.
Quinn doesn’t even bother to glance at Tessa
“Hey, bitch, I thought you said you were my friend,” Quinn says.
“Quinn, that’s not—” Sydney starts. But then decides better of getting in the middle of her two friends and clamps her mouth shut.
I see Daniel, the tool Quinn used to date walking toward us.
“There you are,” he says. He wraps his arm around Quinn’s waist, and my hand involuntarily forms a tight fist. I squelch the voice telling me to punch first, ask questions later.
Tessa laughs. “Oh, my, isn’t this cozy?”
Quinn shoots her a warning glare and shakes Daniel’s arm off of her with a look of what I interpret as disgust. My hand slowly relaxes, and I fight the twitch of a smile that is forming. Not to say that the situation still isn’t incredibly awkward, but I’m glad to see a little emotion from Quinn again.
“So, have you met Caroline?” Tessa continues. Oh, for the love of all that is holy, shut up Tessa.
Linney tenses up. She has no clue what is going on, but I know she can tell it isn’t good. She clutches my arm for security, her nails dig into my skin. This was a total crap plan. I never should have brought her here.
“Caroline?” Quinn says. Her surprised and yet amused eyes dart to Linney, taking her in. She’s standing on the other side of Caroline but even at this distance I can smell the alcohol on her. All I can think is please don’t start something with Caroline – that’s one fight I don’t want to be in the middle of.
“Oh, yeah, I guess I do recognize you from the pictures Ben has of you.”
Caroline flinches. “Hi,” she says meekly, and gives Quinn the tiniest of waves.
Nice, Quinn mouths to me.
“What do you want me to say, Quinn?” I ask her. I’m totally baffled. I don’t know what the hell it is that she wants from me.
“I could go wait outside while y’all talk,” Caroline says.
I open my mouth to tell Caroline not to leave, but Quinn cuts me off. “Yeah, that’d be great,” she says, staring at me fiercely.
“Oh, come on, Quinn, don’t be such a bitch,” Tessa says.
“Yeah, definitely wasn’t talking to you, thanks though.” Quinn shoots back.
Shit, this is not going to end well at all. I see Sydney meet Grant’s eyes from across the room. He breaks off the conversation he’s having and walks over to us. I’m immediately jealous of how in-sync he and Sydney are. Caroline drops my arm and starts to walk away.
“Linney, come back here, you don’t need to leave,” I say. But she just nods with a strained smile and keeps walking toward the door. I don’t blame her.
“Quinn let’s dance,” Daniel says. He is apparently oblivious to what is going on between the rest of us. I have no doubt that he’s just as hammered as Quinn.
“There’s no music, jackhole. I left my bottle in your car, go find me something else to drink,” she says. She gives him a hearty shove away from her and he walks off obediently.
“Well, it sure didn’t take you long, did it?” she says, slurring her words.
I lean in toward her, trying my best to keep what little privacy is possible between us.
“I don’t really think this is the place to talk about it.” I tell her through clenched teeth.
“I can’t believe you dumped me for that – that sleeping pill.” She throws her head back in an antagonistic laugh.
“That's who he broke up with you for? Oh, for fucks sake, when did I get so out of the loop?” Tessa says, shaking her head at Sydney.
“Not now,” Sydney whispers, and pulls Tessa away from Quinn and me. Finally giving u
s a few feet of space to ourselves.
“Quinn, you know that’s not true. I didn’t dump you for any one, you rejected me, remember? Listen, let’s talk about this tomorrow when you’re more… yourself,” I say. I’m trying to stay calm but her accusations are infuriating. She has to know that she totally crushed me, not only by cheating on me with that moron Mark, but then breaking up with me.
Quinn closes the space between us and pushes on my chest. Her hair is styled with care, falling to her shoulders in soft waves. The outrageously form fitting, sparkly dress she’s wearing looks new. She looks insanely gorgeous and perfectly put together, but her expression is completely out of control.
“Just stop,” I say. I put my hands up in surrender.
“Stop what? You wanted to talk before, so let’s talk.”
“Not now, Quinn,” I say. I glance around at the room full of people, a handful are politely pretending not to hear what’s going on, but the rest don’t bother and are staring directly at Quinn and I.“Yes, now! You show up with her and you don’t expect me to be pissed?”
“Quinn, calm down, this is insane.”
She shoves me in the shoulder. “I’m not insane,” she yells.
“I’m not saying that you are! I’m saying that this entire situation is just crazy. You have no right to show up and take it out on Caroline. You’re obviously drunk, so we can talk tomorrow.”
“Of course not! We’d never want to do anything to upset sweet Caroline! Or what is it that you call her? Linney? That’s just flippin’ precious! I never got a little pet name, shows where I ranked, huh?”
Quinn takes a couple of steps back, loses her footing and falls to the hardwood floor. I reach out to help her up. I can't stand to see her like this, it’s ripping me apart. She swats my hand away and gets up on her own.
“Everything okay, guys?” Grant asks. Sydney is standing on her tip-toes to peer over his shoulder. “Why don’t I take you home, Quinn?”
“I’m not ready to leave,” Quinn says.
Sydney pushes around Grant. “Quinn, everyone is staring, why don’t you let Grant and I drive you home?”
Quinn’s eyes dart around the room, not focusing on anyone or anything. “Give me a minute,” she says. Sydney nods and she and Grant step just a few feet away.
“I was never good enough for you, was I? I bet you wished you were with her the entire time we were together! Is that why you wouldn’t sleep with me? You were still hung up on her?”
I can tell there’s no chance of reasoning with her tonight. I work my jaw back and forth, my pulse is pounding through my veins so violently that I feel lightheaded.
“Is that what this is about? The fact I didn’t sleep with you?” I’m going to lose it.
“So where is she sleeping at your house, Benny? That’s so cozy, the first time—”
“You want to get into it, Quinn? Fine, let’s talk about how I wouldn’t get you off, so you went and found someone that would!”
Quinn jerks her head back. She may be inebriated as hell, but she has never seen me angry and it shocks the shit out of her.
“I hope that made you feel better, you asshole,” she says.
“Feel better? Hardly. But I hope you enjoyed being a notch to that douchebag, because no matter what he told you, or promised you, that’s all you were. And I know you don’t see it, but you’re so much better than that.”
“I hate you,” she spits.
Her words sting, I’m not finished, though.
“Of course, that’s probably ideal for you. Being a piece of ass to someone doesn’t require you to actually feel anything for them, does it?”
She straightens her dress, her lips forming an evil grimace. “I seriously hate you,” she says.
“Fine, Quinn, hate me. Just stay away from me.” I force myself to say. I’m so angry, but more than that, I know it’s what she wants, and it’s best for both of us, right?
She stumbles backwards slowly, but it only takes a second for Daniel to cling back to her side like cellophane.
“I'm ready to go home,” she tells him.
I start to open my mouth to protest, neither of them are in any shape to drive.
Grant spins around and beats me to it. He puts his hand up and says, “I've got it.” He looks at me with pity. Great.
“I'm gonna drive you two home.” I hear Grant tell them.
Even through my rage, I can’t turn off the need to try to take care of and protect Quinn. There is nothing I want more in the world than to scoop her up in my arms and take her home. But I can't. Because she isn't mine anymore. She hates me.
Shit, I have to go and find Linney.
“There's coffee,” my mom says, as I walk into the kitchen. She glances up from her newspaper; her eyes are bloodshot and angry. They probably mirror my own, even more so this morning than usual. For a split second, I think maybe she knows I snuck out last night after safely delivering her ice cream. But no, I recognize the look on her face. She’s already surpassed the nicely-buzzed phase, and has moved on to the pissed-off drunk stage. All it’s only nine thirty a,m. She’s drunk, and my head is throbbing from hangover from hell – the apple doesn’t fall far, eh?
“Thanks,” I say. “Are you okay?”
“Everything is fine, Quinn. I just don't feel well. Your father and Mason went to their tournament already and won’t be back till later. I think I’m going back to bed,” she says.
Mom tightens her robe as she passes me, dragging her padded slippers across the hardwood floor. The scraping sound makes my skin crawl even more so than usual. I want to scream PICK UP YOUR DAMN FEET! I peer into the cup she left on the table. Tea? No. I sniff the air, it is filled with the briny, saltiness of Whiskey, no, scratch that, Scotch.
I pour a cup of coffee and preheat the oven. My eyes glaze over as I stare into the pantry, surveying its contents for something that I can bake. Maybe a banana bread pudding? I could drizzle it with homemade butterscotch sauce. Maybe eating my weight in carbs and calories will make me feel a little less hollow. Or maybe I will just curl up inside the dark oven instead.
I can't believe I pulled that shit last night. Seeing Ben was so unnerving and the fact he was there with Caroline and knowing they’d be going home together was infuriating. I've never felt real, full-fledged jealousy before, but seeing the two of them, ugh. I can’t even wrap my mind around what Ben must’ve been feeling when he saw Mark and I together in the kitchen – that was a million times worse than me seeing him at a party with Caroline. Did I seriously tell him I hated him?
I think I did and, in a way, I actually meant it. I hate that he has made me feel things that I don’t want to feel.
As I smash the bananas, I decide a Percocet or two will go nicely with the pudding. I need something to calm me and make a dent in my killer headache. I throw back the two round pills, and since I’m already in my mom's medicine stash, I grab a plastic sandwich bag and fill it with an assortment of pills for later.
Caroline was even prettier in person than she was in the photo. Her simple jeans and a white t-shirt made her look classic and innocent. No wonder she bolted away from me like I was Medusa. I came stomping in wearing a second skin of sequins – and little else.
I heard all of the comments from the guys at the party when I walked past them, but knowing that I could easily turn their heads, or turn them on meant nothing to me. The only guy I did want was there with someone else. Jesus, he’d looked at me with such disgust after I sent Caroline away and spewed my venom at him. My stomach turns when I remember the look on his face when he told me to stay away from him. How did things between us get so out of control?
While I stir the hot sauce, I wonder if my dad is still sleeping with the skanky tramp from across the street. I wonder if Mom knows about Mena too. Maybe that’s why she’s drinking so early in the day, to try and block out the truth.
I often think about how different life would be if my mom had never met my dad. I mean, logic says th
at my brothers and I wouldn’t be here if my dad wasn’t in the picture, but what if we were. Mom was engaged when she met Dad. The story goes that she was out taking a walk one night, when my dad saw her as he was leaving a bar and asked her if he could walk with her. Nowadays, that undoubtedly would have led to some rufies, but Mom said yes.
I’ve seen pictures of my mom back then. She was beautiful, young and had an amazing warmth behind her eyes. In some of the photos, she’s even pictured with her first fiancé, James. He was a regular looking guy, nothing spectacular, but you could tell how much he loved my mom just by looking at him. In most of the photos his arm is draped casually, but lovingly around her waist. And his eyes are always locked directly on her, no matter how many other people are in the photo with them.
I know one thing for certain; the warmth behind my mom’s eyes would still be there today if it weren’t for my dad. It just shows that sometimes a split second decision to say yes, when you should probably say no, can change everything.
I put my banana bread in the over, set the timer and then go and curl up on the couch.
I wonder what Ben and Caroline are doing right now.
“I'm really, really sorry about last night,” I say, standing in the doorway of the guest room.
“It's fine, don’t mention it,” Caroline says. She keeps her eyes down and purses her lips, which I know is a clear indicator that it’s anything but fine.
“Linney,” I say. She’s busy packing her suitcase and barely looks up. The morning sun fills the room, and the blonde hair piled on top of her head makes her look almost angelic. Typical.
“No, please don't try to explain or anything, it's not my business.” She folds a shirt so perfectly that it looks like it belongs on display at Banana Republic. I never realized it before now, but her perfection is almost off-putting. There is nothing mysterious about her, nothing to figure out or let your thoughts linger over.
Who am I kidding? Her main fault right now is that she isn’t Quinn.
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