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Ask Again Later

Page 14

by Liz Czukas


  “I do say so. One minute we’re dancing and having a good time, the next you won’t even let me be in the group pictures.”

  His body went still, though I still couldn’t see his face.

  “I’m right, aren’t I? You’re pissed at me.”

  “No,” he said after a long moment.

  I marched up to the piano bench and stared at the side of his head until he couldn’t stand it anymore and looked at me. “Then why are you being so horrible? I apologized for ditching out on the No Drama thing already and you said we were cool, but you’re not acting like we’re cool.”

  “You kissed Ryan.”

  “What?” I took a step back, confused for a moment, before I remembered how I’d gone all over-the-top when Ryan had found my wallet at Taco Bell.

  “I was right there. Everybody was.”

  “So? I was just happy he found my ID and my money.”

  He shook his head. “All this time you’ve been saying you don’t date, not anybody, no matter what, and suddenly that’s all out the door.”

  “What?” I squinted at him in confusion. “It wasn’t like that. It was nothing—”

  “Whatever, I can take a hint.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m just saying if you didn’t want to go out with someone, all you had to do was say no. You didn’t have to make up some stupid rule to—what? Make yourself feel better?”

  “Schroeder, I am not going out with Ryan. Trust me. And what do you care, anyway?”

  He got up from the piano bench with a frustrated growl. “I don’t.” But then his face scrunched up, and he pressed his fists into his temples. “I like you, okay? I wanted to ask you to prom, but I didn’t because of your stupid rule, but you just—you show up with Ryan, and . . .” He splayed his fingers wide and brought his hands down to his sides. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t even want to talk about it.”

  My heart was in my throat, and my nerves were jangling as he stalked toward the double doors. I felt like I’d just been dropped in the middle of a game where I didn’t know any of the rules and no one would stop playing long enough to tell me. “Wait! You don’t understand—Schroeder, wait!”

  He wheeled around impatiently. “What?”

  “I’m not dating Ryan.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not!”

  “I said okay,” he repeated.

  “I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

  He sighed. “Then why’d you go to prom with him?”

  “Because he asked me!” I shouted.

  “So that’s all it takes to violate the big No Dating rule? Pretty weak rule.”

  “Trust me, this is so not a date.” I shook my head.

  “You sure he knows that?”

  “Oh my God, yes.”

  “You really sure? I tend to get a little confused about that myself when the girls I ask out kiss me in front of a bunch of people.”

  “Schroeder. Trust me.” I held up both hands. “Ryan is not interested in me.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I do.” Trying to make eye contact was proving pointless. How was I supposed to will him to read my mind when he wouldn’t look at me? I needed him to guess Ryan’s secret. It wouldn’t be me telling if he guessed, right?

  “So why would he even ask you?”

  “We’re friends!” I shouted.

  “You just better hope you’re right, ’cause if you’re not . . .” He shook his head slowly.

  “Then what?” I demanded, hands on hips.

  He shrugged. “I guess that would make you kind of heartless, wouldn’t it?”

  “You know, I’ve had it with you.” I stepped closer, whispering loudly in his face. “You’ve been so rude to me, and I didn’t even do anything wrong.” I pointed my finger in front of his nose before he could protest. “Uh-uh. I had no idea how you felt about me. None. And you know whose fault that is? Yours. If you wanted to ask me to prom, you should have frigging asked me. You don’t get to whine about it just because somebody else had the balls to do what you didn’t. I’m done apologizing to you.” I poked him in the chest. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Get over yourself.”

  Shaking and on the verge of tears—God, I hate confronting people—I turned my back on him.

  He didn’t reach for me. He didn’t even say a word. Just walked away.

  There, I told myself. You did what you needed to do.

  So why did I feel so awful?

  24 In which Troy departs for points unknown, and I am not a gymnast

  HEADS

  I don’t know how long I sat there, listening to the driver’s music choices—country, as it turned out—but I’d fully rebuilt my buzz by the time they all came back.

  “All right,” Doug crowed as Phil shut the door behind him. “Let’s get to Blanchard’s already!”

  I thought it was very big of me not to hit him in the head with the bottle of vodka I was still holding.

  They all seemed quite restored by their late-night snack at the diner, chattering and laughing all the way. Even sourpuss Olivia was smiling now and then, and she didn’t try to stop Austin when he groped her. Across from me, Troy continued to snooze. I actually envied him. So, I leaned back into my seat and closed my eyes.

  I’ll think about all this tomorrow. At Tara.

  I didn’t open my eyes until the limo pulled to a stop at Frank Blanchard’s house. Or should I say mansion? I tried not to go completely slack-jawed when I stepped out onto the long driveway, but I’m not sure how successful I was. The place was huge. The word that came to mind was château. Stone block walls, high pointy roofs over tall windows. Lights shone up from the ground at the exterior walls and around some of the trees on the sloping lawn.

  “Ho-ly shhhh . . .” I pressed my lips closed before Phil and his band of Merry Jocks could catch me gawking.

  “About fucking time,” Randi groused as she got out of the limo. “I gotta pee so bad.” She scurried toward the house, leaving everyone else behind.

  “Come on, let’s go around the back. I’m sure everyone’s outside anyway,” Tara announced.

  “Hang on, we gotta get Troy outta there.” Phil indicated the limo.

  “Driver’s done,” Doug agreed. “We gotta find somewhere to dump Troy.”

  Olivia sighed. “Just take him in the house and meet us by the pool.”

  I had precisely zero clue where to go. Where would my friends be? I decided the safer option was sticking with the girls as they headed around the side of the house. Tara had said everyone would be in the backyard, and I really didn’t want to be in the splash zone if Troy came to and gave a repeat performance of his world-record-setting barf routine.

  Tara and Olivia were already walking away when Tara turned back to look at me. “Are you coming, Heart?”

  I jogged a few steps to catch up with them, but that was a colossal mistake. The ground seemed to heave under my feet, and I had to throw both hands out to steady myself. “Whoa!”

  “You okay?” Tara asked.

  I nodded, blinking hard.

  “Oh, you’re drunk, aren’t you?” Tara cooed.

  “Maybe.”

  They giggled together. “Aww, they’re so cute when they’re young like this.” Olivia made an isn’t-she-adorable face.

  I showed great personal strength and integrity by not kicking her.

  “I’m gonna look for my friends,” I said instead, walking a little faster to put some ground between them and me. I had reached my limit.

  About five hours ago.

  I spotted Cassidy first, jumping on one of those humongous trampolines. It was in a shadowy part of the yard, but Cass’s blond hair and pink dress were unmistakable, catching the light every time she reached the top of her jump. Plus, she was laughing and talking the whole time, so it was kind of hard to miss her.

  “Wait!” she was calling down to whoever was on the far side of the trampoline. “Wait! I’
m totally gonna do it this time, I swear!”

  “Yeah, right!” Neel said from the shadows. “You can’t do it.”

  “Cass!” I shouted, jogging to the trampoline.

  She spun to face me, and her face lit up. “Heart! Oh my God, you’re alive!” Flipping her legs out in front of her, she bounced on her butt a few times to kill her momentum and scrambled off the edge of the jumping surface before throwing her arms around me.

  “Oh my God! Where have you been? We were so worried about you!”

  “Yeah, I can tell.” I nodded at the trampoline and grinned.

  “Come jump with me!” She pulled me by the arms until I climbed up beside her. “Come on! Jump!”

  I couldn’t get the right rhythm to match her jumping, and I dropped onto my knees. You’d never expect a bouncy surface to be painful, but if you’ve already taken a decent hit to the tailbone in a night, any impact can give you a nice reminder of the injury. “Ow!” I gasped just as Cassidy came down again and I totally face-planted, and bounced on my stomach and face for her next few bounds.

  But I could not stop laughing. It was impossible when I was completely helpless to stop myself from flying up in the air and flopping across the mesh. I floundered into Cassidy’s legs, knocking her onto her butt again, and then we were both laughing as the springs ran out of energy.

  “I give it a two-point-three. Tops,” Neel said from the sideline.

  “Boo!” Cassidy said. “The judge from Russia is totally biased!” Then she dissolved into giggles again.

  “Hey, Heart,” Neel said. “You really saw a fight?”

  I lifted my head, spitting stray curls out of my face. “Saw it, and got knocked on my ass by stupid Amy Byers!”

  “What?” Cassidy demanded, sitting up.

  “Girl fight. Nice.” Neel nodded, grinning.

  “Are you okay?” Cassidy asked me.

  “Well—” With a grunt, I managed to roll onto my back, panting at the moon overhead. “I’m not gonna lie, my butt hurts.”

  Neel snorted, and Cass giggled.

  “But I’m okay.” I waved a hand in what I thought was a very triumphant manner.

  “Oh my God.” Cassidy got onto her knees and crawled closer to peer at me through the shadows. “Wait—are you drunk?”

  “No.” I shook my head, and the moon jiggled in its orbit. I slapped a hand over my eyes.

  “Oh my God, you are!” Cassidy laughed. “I’ve never seen you drunk! Neel, she’s totally drunk!”

  “Nice!” Neel repeated.

  “You have to come with me!” Cassidy tugged on my wrist as she wormed her way to the edge of the trampoline again. She dismounted and beckoned wildly for me to do the same. I was a little less graceful, but I got off. Sometimes getting the job done is all you can ask for.

  As soon as I was on my feet, Cassidy grabbed my hand and led me to the better-lit patio. Though calling it a patio was a little like calling the Statue of Liberty a figurine. It had an outdoor kitchen, a huge pool, a small building I could only assume was a pool-related structure of some sort, tons of loungers and chairs, and a fire pit on the opposite end from where we stood.

  We ran into Ryan and Ally first, and Cassidy presented me like a proud kid with a painting. “Look at this. Heart’s drunk!”

  “I’m not drunk,” I said.

  Ally laughed. “You are drunk.”

  I shook my head. Cassidy flagged over a few more No Drama people from nearby to show me off. Most of them laughed, or wanted to know where to get a cup, but I didn’t know the answer. There were also a lot of exclamations over my finally arriving, and questions about what had happened to me.

  “You actually sat in the limo with Troy and got drunk?” Schroeder asked.

  “I’m not drunk,” I said for the eighth time, shaking my head firmly.

  “I can’t believe you,” he said.

  I drew back with a pissy look. “Excuse me?”

  “I just can’t believe you’d be that stupid.”

  “God, don’t be such a tight ass.” Once the words were out of my mouth, I smiled. That had been a good response.

  He glared at me. “Whatever.”

  “What’s up your butt?” I blinked, realizing I’d made two references to his posterior in as many sentences. Time to expand your metaphorical language horizons, girl, I coached myself.

  “It didn’t occur to you that being incapacitated might be dangerous around Troy?”

  I tossed my hand dismissively. “He was completely passed out. It was fine.”

  “There was no one there to look out for you.”

  “Um, hello? My brother was there.”

  He just stared at me for a second, then looked away, muttering, “Whatever.”

  “Hey!” I smacked him in the shoulder with the back of my hand. “Seriously, what is up with you?”

  “Hmm, let me think.” He tapped his chin hard enough that I could hear the sound his finger made against his skin even over the noise of the people splashing on the stairs in the pool and the music coming from hidden speakers. “Could it be that I tried to help you get away from your stupid date, but you just go back to him the minute your brother snaps his fingers?”

  “It wasn’t like that.” I reached out to steady myself against the nearest chair.

  “And then you don’t even show up at this stupid party for an hour and a half—”

  “What is the big deal? We ended up in the same place.”

  “We never would have come here if you’d just stuck with us.”

  “Us who?” I indicated the vacant space around us. None of our friends were in sight, having conveniently faded away as soon as Schroeder started getting bitchy. “Everyone else is having a good time except you. What is your problem?”

  He frowned. “Nothing you need to worry about.” And with that, he started toward the stairs leading up to the deck. But I wasn’t about to let him get away that easily. I stormed after him. He was moving quickly, and I didn’t catch up with him until he was nearly at the sliding doors leading into the house.

  “Don’t walk away from me!” I said, reaching around him to grab the handle of the door.

  “Why not? You did.”

  “When?”

  He held up one finger. “One. When you ditched me for prom to go with Captain Neanderthal. Two. When you let Phil dictate where you were going after the dance.”

  “Ditched you?” I leaned toward him. “Why are you taking this so personally?”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, brushed my hand away from the door handle, and walked into the kitchen without another word.

  I wasn’t about to chase him again. He was obviously in some kind of snit that I could not possibly be responsible for. Fine.

  I made my way back to the stairs and clomped down, feeling more sour than I had before I got here. This was supposed to be the point when my evening improved. Why was this whole freaking night so determined to be horrible to me? What did I do?

  The area that had been a ghost town as soon as my fight with Schroeder started was suddenly crowded with a few of my friends in a tight circle, chattering like sparrows.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “Somebody’s in a bad mood.” Ally looked at me from the corners of her eyes.

  “Yeah, Schroeder.”

  “Well, it seems to be contagious, Heart my dear,” she said. “Have you seen you?” She indicated me with one long finger outstretched.

  Refusing to obey her command to survey myself, I rolled my head and shoulders, letting them settle into a natural posture. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Neel leaned toward Ryan, stage-whispering, “Should we tell her?”

  “Tell me what?” I demanded.

  Ryan shook his head. “I don’t think she’s ready.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” Neel nodded and leaned back beside Ally.

  “What are you talking about?” I dropped onto the
bottom step with a little too much force, and my head swam. Not that I was drunk, because I so was not. Probably.

  “Nothing you need to worry about right now, sweetie.” Neel batted his eyes at me.

  “You guys suck.”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “Thanks for letting me take your ticket, by the way. I had a lot of fun with these guys.” He tilted his head toward Neel and Ally.

  “Aww, shucks.” Neel made a big show of being embarrassed.

  “Well, at least somebody had a good time.” I propped my head on one hand. “I am so done with this night.”

  Neel pretended to check his watch. “Not even close.”

  I groaned, letting my entire upper body collapse onto my knees, turning me into a lavender tulle heap. “Seriously. What did I do to deserve this?”

  “Is that rhetorical?” Ryan asked.

  I looked up at him, trying to gauge his level of seriousness. Based on the smirk, I was going with “not serious.” “Fais attention,” I warned him in French, making him smile wider.

  “Moi?” he asked.

  “So!” Neel interrupted our little tête-à-tête, going cross-legged on the patio to look at me. “What are we going to do to improve your night, Heart LaCoeur?”

  I blew out a sigh. “Suck the vodka out of my blood and tell Schroeder not to be mad at me. What did I even do to him, anyway? Nobody else hates me. You guys don’t hate me, right?”

  “He doesn’t hate you.” Ally sat down with us, crossing her legs and spreading the short skirt of her dress over her lap. “Far from it.”

  “Sure seems like it.”

  “Well”—she smoothed her dress a little more—“you did ditch out on the No Drama Prom-a.” She gave me her slant-eyed glance again, showing that even she had a little resentment toward me.

  “For a good cause!”

  Neel snorted. “Sounds like it was a pretty crappy cause.”

  “Okay, but I couldn’t know that.”

  “I was a good cause, too,” Ryan piped up, joining us at last on the ground.

  Guilt wrapped its uncomfortable tentacles around me, gurgling should-haves in my ear. “I know.”

  “Luckily, we were here to clean up your mess.” Neel patted Ryan on the knee.

 

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