“Don’t worry,” Kaitlin coos, “you can’t help it. It’s like, being born with bad hair or a weird nose or . . . whoops, I guess you got those too.”
There’s more laughter, everyone smirking like we’re so much better than Jolene.
“What can I say?” Kaitlin beams. “Some people can’t get over their genes.”
“And some people can’t get over being a skanky bitch,” Jolene snaps back, but I know her by now, and I can tell she’s rattled.
Still, I don’t move.
“Whatever.” Brianna sighs, acting bored. “Nobody wants you here, so why don’t you just head on back to the trailer park, and maybe we’ll see you around — working at McDonald’s.”
“It’s Dairy Queen,” Courtney pipes up.
Brianna laughs, delighted. “Right! I’ll remember to tip you extra next time.”
Jolene sends me one last look, as if to say, “These are your friends?” I close my eyes again, waiting until she’s walked away and Brianna and the girls erupt in a frenzy of post-showdown bitching.
“Can you believe her nerve?”
“I know! You should totally call the cops on her; I bet she’s going to steal stuff.”
I listen to them, feeling a low flush of shame. But what am I supposed to say —“Hold up, guys, Jolene is OK; we’ve been hanging out all night”? Like that would play well with this crowd. No, that would only raise more questions, like what we were off doing together, and why. So I keep quiet, and soon, the girls get tired of bitching over Jolene and her nerve and move on to more important things, like coordinating outfits for the seniors’ graduation and how they can convince their parents to let them spend a month backpacking through Europe this summer. But even though the showdown is quickly forgotten to them, I can’t shake my guilt. The way Jolene stared at me, it was like I was the worst kind of person — lower than Kaitlin even, because at least she didn’t look me in the eye while she had her hands down Cameron’s pants.
Cameron. He’s still sitting next to me, stroking my hair. I feel something shift inside me. I know the plan was to sit back and look innocent until this thing blew up in their faces, but even the touch of his hand makes me want to break something. Why did I ever think I could pretend like I was OK with all his cheating and lies?
Maybe because I’ve been pretending so long, I’ve got it down to an art.
“What do you think?” I nudge Cameron quietly.
“About what?”
“Jolene.”
He shrugs, pushing back his damp hair. “I don’t know.”
“Come on,” I press him. “What do you think of her?”
Cameron looks blank. “I guess, she’s kind of a freak, right?” He reaches for the bottle of champagne, offering it to me first with another of those puppy dog grins.
Was it good?
I’ve been blocking the actual memory of him and Kaitlin all night, but now I can’t stop the picture of them together. His hands on her skin, her tongue on his chest.
And it wasn’t even the first time.
“Hey B, pass it my way.” Kaitlin is propped on some cushions on the floor. She rolls over, giving Cameron a view right down the front of her dress. His eyes slip down, just for a second, but it’s enough.
Screw strategy.
“You can have it.” I get up, suddenly feeling this roar of blood in my ears. Before I can think twice — hell, before I can even process what I’m about to do — I grab the champagne bottle and upend it, pouring the whole damn thing over her.
Kaitlin screeches, warm alcohol dripping from her head. “What the hell?”
The whole group is staring at me like I’ve gone insane. Brianna has her mouth dropped wide open, and even Nikki manages to blink through her drunken stupor.
“Have you lost your mind?” Kaitlin is whimpering, wiping at her face. Her hair is hanging in damp clumps, and the booze clings to her dress in wet, sticky patches. She looks ridiculous.
I start to laugh.
“It’s not funny!” Kaitlin screeches again. Courtney rushes to her, passing someone’s sweater to help dry her off, but the rest of them stay frozen, looking at me in shock. Brianna’s face darkens.
This is it, I realize — either I shut the hell up and pretend it’s all a joke, or I finish this for good. No going back.
So I don’t.
“You know what?” I tell Kaitlin, still sitting there on the floor. “Have everything. I don’t want it anymore.” Reaching behind me, I undo the clasp on Cameron’s pendant and drop it in her lap as I walk past. Despite the limp, the socks, and the fact that I just screwed up my entire social life, I sashay out of that room like I’m strutting on three-inch heels.
I’m done with them.
Their insults slice through me, worse than any slap to the face. I spin quickly and stride out of the room before they can see the damage, hurrying down the fancy hallways to get away. Get the hell out of there. Pushing past drunk guys and giggling girls, I finally slip into the empty cloakroom and sink back, falling behind the layers of coats and jackets until I hit the wall. Something solid.
I take a breath. I shouldn’t be so shaken. I shouldn’t even care. It’s nothing but the same petty bitching I’ve ignored for the last three years of school, but for some reason, it was different in there. It was Bliss.
An unfamiliar hurt stings in my veins. I feel stupid even realizing it, but after everything we’ve been through tonight, I counted on some kind of loyalty, the smallest amount of support. But instead, she just sat there, draped over the boyfriend who screwed around on her, laughing along with the friends she’s been plotting all night to destroy.
Nothing’s changed.
The thought is bitter like metal in my mouth. Tonight wasn’t a turning point, or any kind of new beginning. Back at my dad’s house, out on that golf course, I had almost convinced myself that these games meant something. That it wasn’t just canvas and paint going up in flames, but the past, too. Now I see it’s not so easy. Even if I change, everybody else stays the same.
I lurch back out into the party, determined to break this damn haze that’s still clouding me. Why should I let them cut me down to size? Why should I even care? Let them play their cruel games with each other — I’ll be gone soon enough. The faces blur as I shove my way through, ignoring yelps of protest. They should know by now to get out of my way.
Then I see a flash of someone familiar. Meg’s over in the dining room, watching the table hockey game. She looks breathless and happy for some reason, and as the crowd shifts, I see that reason slip his arm around her shoulders, grinning down at her. Tristan.
So, she got her Prince Charming after all. I watch them for a second, and I can’t help but be envious. Not of the status or that preppy jerk, but how damn happy she is. Meg didn’t ask the world for a thing, but there she is, granted everything she ever wanted. Sure, it’s just the same old high school bullshit — the pretty dress and the cute boy — but everything about her is shimmering with delight. Maybe that’s the trick: to expect so little from life, you never feel one ounce of disappointment. Maybe that’s my lesson.
I press on. Brianna’s stocked the bar, I’ll say that at least for her; I pluck a half-full bottle of vodka from the kitchen counter debris and head outside, away from the bright party lights toward the edge of the garden and the silhouettes lurking there. I don’t bother saying hey, or even announcing my presence; I just wander right up and plant myself in the center of the knot.
“Jo-lene Nel-son.” One of the guys drawls it, exhaling a long plume of smoke from the joint in his hand. “What’s up?”
I stare at them all, nonchalant as hell. It’s a motley collection of boys from school: some of the party jocks, a few preppy assholes, a couple of guys I recognize from detention. “You tell me.” I shrug, taking a gulp from my bottle. The vodka burns the back of my throat, fire all the way to my stomach. I don’t shudder, but somewhere inside, I feel a small pang of regret.
I thought I was done with this.
/>
Mikey gives me a sidelong look. He should have graduated last year, but his credits fell short, and the football team was happy to keep him around. “Not your kind of party, I would have thought.”
“Want to throw me out?” I reply, enough challenge in my voice to make him hold his hands up in a kind of defeat.
“Whoa, no offense. I was just saying.”
“And now you’ve said it.” I look around at the dark faces, lurking here like they’re committing some grave crimes instead of smoking some of Mikey’s weak-ass weed. I roll my eyes, not that they’ll see it. “Anyone got a cigarette?”
They shake their heads and shrug. Daniel offers me the joint. I pause. “No,” I sigh, remembering the last time I mixed alcohol with that stuff. “I need nicotine.”
“It’s a bad habit,” Nico tells me, his lips curling in a smile. I stare back. He’s one of the rich, preppy guys that drifts on the edge of Brianna’s clique, but it looks like he’s slumming it tonight. His white dress shirt is wet through from the pool, and his tuxedo pants droop from a thin leather belt. I offer him the bottle with a flicker of my eyebrow.
He takes it and swallows a gulp straight down. Hands it back. Smiles again.
So this is how it goes.
Suddenly I’m so tired I can barely stand. I lean back against one of the old trees, taking tiny swallows from the vodka as they pass the joint around and murmur idle conversation in hushed tones. The haze is back, still cloaked heavy around me and almost too sad to bear. Anger, I can use, but this aching melancholy? It soaks through my whole system, mixing with alcohol and the sickly sweet smell of the weed until I feel dizzy and too, too hollow.
Dante was right.
“Cool party, huh?” Nico edges a couple of steps closer to me, and I realize that most of the guys have left. Just a few people are still around. A few people, and Nico. He smiles at me, teeth white in the shadows.
“Sure. If you like this kind of thing.” I shrug, still thinking about Dante. I wonder where he even is. Did he go straight home, or out to some party with his new friends? His girlfriend? The idea chills me, so I take another sip. I miss him so much it hurts, but that won’t change a thing. It’s done. We’re finished. The last possibility of him is gone for good, and I’ve only myself to blame.
He was right. God, he was right about everything.
“You look great in that dress.” Nico doesn’t notice my fugue, or if he does, he doesn’t care. He slides in even closer, so I can feel his body just inches away; lets his gaze drift over the tight bodice and ruffled skirt. “It’s cute.”
I roll my eyes at his weak line, but I don’t pull away when he leans in and kisses me unceremoniously on the lips. His mouth is soft and hot, and for a moment I think there could be a way to forget everything after all.
Hands and teeth and the tree, hard against my back; just make it all go away.
We’re both breathing heavier by the time Nico grabs my arm and begins to lead me out toward somewhere. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
He shrugs. “Does it matter?”
No. It never does. A backseat, a dark alley; it’s all the same. I know where he’s leading; I know it too damn well. But what’s wrong with that?
And then I hear my own words, echoing back in my head.
You’re better than this. Than him.
What I told Bliss there in the dorm room, about throwing herself away on stupid guys and stupid lies. I know now that it wasn’t even true — she’s not better than this.
But I am.
I pull away.
“What?” He blinks at me, confused. “It’s cool. Nobody’s going to see.”
“How sweet.” I feel myself slip back together, a handful of broken pieces finding some kind of shape and order. The edges hurt like hell, but it’s something. Something whole. “Look at you, so worried about my reputation.”
Nico just reaches for me again, so I duck around him. “You know what? You’re right. A girl can’t be too careful about these things.”
I keep it light, joking even. I’m not looking for another fight, even though it’s clear I could lay him out in five seconds flat if it went that way. Nico clearly realizes it too; he scowls at me like a boy who’s lost his toy, but doesn’t try and stop me as I yank my dress straps up and walk away from him, back through the garden. I pass other couples, intertwined in the shadows, but they don’t look up. Everybody is caught up in their own drama. Everybody is just out for themselves. Sure, the barrier came down for a while tonight, in the buzz of those pranks, and the unexpected friendship of Bliss and Meg. But they’ve returned to their rightful places, and I’m still stuck on the outside, where I belong.
It’s time to go home.
“There you are!”
I’m barely ten steps away from him when Bliss comes charging toward me. She skirts the pool, looking like a slumber-party exile in that pajama outfit. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“And?” I take in her anxious expression and want to laugh. Sure, now I get the apology, when none of her precious friends are around to see. “I don’t want to hear it, OK?” I start to walk away, but Bliss won’t quit so easy. She trots at my heels, and for a moment I flash back to the start of all of this: back at the country club, getting roped into the whole deal to begin with. I figured it would be so, so simple. Never again.
“Jolene, wait.” Bliss grabs my arm. I fix her with a glare, but I guess she’s immune by now. “I really need to —”
“What, apologize?” I cut her off, shaking. “No need. I got the message, back inside. You know, with all your friends?”
I was wrong. I’m not completely numb — there’s still a slice of anger left in me for this. For her.
Bliss blushes like she’s actually ashamed. Or maybe she’s just worried about being seen with me. The pool area is quiet, lights reflecting in the dark water, but there are people still up on the balcony, and stragglers making out among the trees. “I know, I should have said something, but . . .” She trails off, biting her lip.
“But you didn’t.” I finish for her. “You didn’t do a damn thing.”
“I know!” She quivers. “You don’t think I get how bad that was? I felt like the worst person ever.”
“Aww,” I drawl, ignoring how distressed she actually looks. “You poor thing. You feel bad for acting like a total bitch. Hang on while I weep for you.” I’m tight-lipped, my hands clenched, mad at myself for even caring how this shallow, rich waste of space treats me. Bliss Merino has been and will always be one of them, and a few hours of acting buddy-buddy was never going to change that. “Are we done yet?” I glare.
“Will you just listen?” Bliss cries. Sure, because it’s all about what she wants. “I said I’m sorry!”
“You didn’t, actually,” I correct her, feeling the anger kick, like it never left. Maybe it never will. “You’ve said plenty about how bad you feel, and what a terrible person you are, but you haven’t gotten around to, you know, trying to make me feel better.”
Bliss blinks. “Why are you making this so hard?”
I gape. “Seriously? You’re the one sitting back while they tear me to pieces, and it’s my fault?”
“No.” She backtracks, her face anxious. “That isn’t —”
“And what are you even doing out here, where they can see?” I jerk my head over at the patio, where her clique is gathering. “I mean, I’m the lowest of the lows on your grand hierarchy. Will you have to go grovel to them too, after? Say what a trashy slut I am, just to keep your place?”
“Jolene,” Bliss pleads, her eyes filling with tears. But I’m unmoved. God forbid she smear her mascara over someone as worthless as me.
“What?” I reply, fierce. “What do you want from me? I got you that stupid diary, made sure it went where you needed it. I came through for you!”
“And so did I!” Bliss whips back. “Or are you forgetting that whole warehouse cop thing?”
>
I snort. “You think just because you act like a real human being out in the world, it gives you the right to be a bitch back here? That’s not how it works. Friends don’t take that crap. They stick up for each other, no matter what.” I stop dead, realizing what I’ve just said.
Friends?
But before I can take it back, Kaitlin marches down the steps, planting herself down in front of Bliss. “What the hell was that about?” Kaitlin demands, a murderous expression on her face. Up close, I can see her dress is stained with liquid, and her hair is matted against her face. “Have you gone totally insane?”
Bliss looks at her blankly.
“Yeah, what’s going on, B?” That bitch Brianna and a pack of clique girls arrive a few beats after, circling like the audience in an arena. Ready for blood. “You left booze stains all over the carpet. My parents are going to kill me.” Brianna stops, seeing me here. She curls her lip in a sneer. “Uh, shouldn’t you be gone already?”
I give a bitter laugh. “I wish.”
“Leave it, Bree.” Bliss sighs.
“Ex-cuuse me?” Brianna whirls around.
“You heard me.” Her eyes narrow. “Shut up and stop being such a bitch.”
Brianna’s mouth drops open in shock. “What are you doing even talking to her?”
“Yeah!” Kaitlin elbows her way in again. “What’s with you tonight? You ruined my dress!”
I’m ready to bail and leave these girls to their stupid drama, but then Bliss sets her face in a fierce glare and announces, “Well, you hooked up with Cameron, so I guess we’re even now.”
I stop. The clique gasps.
Kaitlin turns a bright shade of pink, spluttering. “That’s, like, ridiculous!”
“No,” Bliss says loudly. “What’s ridiculous is thinking I wouldn’t find out. Are you totally stupid, or just a total skank?”
Kaitlin’s mouth drops open. The other girls stare at her, scandalized, and for a moment, it looks like Bliss will come out the victor in this showdown. Then Kaitlin launches herself at Bliss with an almighty screech. “You’re lying!”
“Eugh . . . Get off me!” Bliss backs up, trying to ward off Kaitlin’s attack. “Owww!”
The Anti-Prom Page 17
