My Sweet Escape

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  The singing went on for a while and then someone mentioned food and then that was all anyone could talk about, so the group reached a consensus that a night out was in order.

  “Yeah, we never got to celebrate the new member of the Yellowfield House family,” Taylor said while everyone yelled out suggestions. That made everyone turn to me, including Dusty.

  “So, you get to pick the place,” Taylor said. Even though she was not that much older than me, when she talked everyone seemed to listen. She was the shortest one, too.

  “Um, I don’t even know what’s around here.” I’d wanted to go out and see what was around Bangor, but Renee had been totally down on that. I might actually have fun, and that was definitely against the rules.

  And then they all started talking at once, each pitching for their favorite place, telling me which had the best steaks or pizza or bread sticks. Jesus, they were loud.

  “Whoa, hold up,” I said. “I can’t think straight when you’re all yelling at me. We need to, like, do this democratically.”

  Darah piped up.

  “How about everyone writes their choices on pieces of paper and then Jos will pick one?”

  That made everyone but Dusty burst into raucous laughter.

  “Yeah, because it worked out so well before,” Taylor said, poking Hunter in the chest. He just grabbed her hand and kissed it.

  “Pretty swell, I’d say.”

  I gave Dusty a look, because he was the only other person who wasn’t enjoying the inside joke.

  “Okay, then,” Dusty said, ripping a piece of notebook paper out of one that someone had been doing homework in earlier. “My choice is Sea Dog. Who’s next?” He wrote down everyone’s choices and then tore the slips in equal pieces, folded them up and tossed them in one of Mase’s hats.

  “Do the honors, Red,” Dusty said, bowing and holding the hat out as if he was bestowing a great gift.

  They all waited with anticipation like I was choosing something that would affect the rest of their lives. I grasped a piece of paper, unfolded it and read it out.

  “Sea Dog it is.” Dusty winked at me. Of course I’d picked his choice. Everyone else agreed that it was a nice place and started to get their stuff together.

  “Need a ride, Red?” He’d sidled up behind me again as I’d gotten my coat.

  “I swear, one of these times you’re going to get a faceful of my fist if you sneak up on me, Dustin.”

  “You coming, Jos?” Renee said as Paul helped her on with her coat and everyone else piled into their cars. I decided to seize my opportunity to get out from under her radar, even if I’d have to spend a few minutes with Dusty.

  “I’m going to ride with Dusty.” He looked surprised for a second but then smiled. Did he just...smile all the time? Was it a reflex?

  Renee looked like she was going to protest and then Paul said something in her ear. They had a quick argument and Renee threw up her hands.

  “Fine. See you there.” I didn’t know what she was making such a big deal about. The restaurant was just down the road.

  “Ladies first,” Dusty said, pointing toward a black VW Golf that had more than a few dings. “By the way, I wrote Sea Dog on all of them,” he whispered.

  Of course he did.

  “Wow, sneaky,” I said, pretending to sound impressed. He shut the door for me, and I resisted the urge to call him out on it. Matt, my ex, was big on door opening, and I’d always liked it. Yeah, I knew that it was against feminism or whatever, but it was still nice. Matt was big on things like that. Flowers on holidays and pulling chairs out and wearing ties.

  His ambition was to be president, and he always said if you wanted to be president the first step was looking like one. Granted, I’d also dressed very differently then. Yes, I’d had skirts and blazers and pumps and even brooches for my neck scarves. I’d boxed all of it up and left it at Mom’s house when I’d moved into my dorm room this year. No need for any of that anymore. I’d quit all the clubs I’d been in, even Student Council, much to the dismay of nearly everyone there. Mostly because I kept the minutes and no one else wanted to do it.

  “So what’s your story, Joscelyn Archer?” Dusty said as he pulled out behind Taylor’s Charger. “Have you always had that chip on your shoulder, or is it new?”

  Why the hell did he care?

  “What’s your story, Dustin Sharp? Renee’s never mentioned you before.” Instead of turning on the radio, he made his own music by tapping on the steering wheel and making snare drum sounds with his mouth. I was beginning to think he had ADHD. It would explain a lot.

  “I bet yours is more interesting than mine,” he said, turning to look at me. I stared out the window, pretending to be fascinated with the houses that passed by.

  “Okay, fine. You win,” he said when I didn’t answer. “Let’s just say I wasn’t always this good-looking and talented. I, uh, got myself into a lot of trouble when I was younger, if you can believe that.” Could I? You bet.

  “And I screwed up a lot and then something happened to me to...yeah, this part sounds lame, but something happened to put things in perspective, you know? And I stopped screwing around, and I started actually giving a shit about what I wanted to do with my life.”

  “And how did you become buddies with Hunter?” That was what I was most curious about.

  “I met Hunter in one of my classes, and, for lack of a better, more masculine term, we formed a bromance. We see each other all the time now, since he changed his major. So, yeah. That’s my rambling and completely weird story.”

  It wasn’t what I’d expected, but before I could answer he was pulling into the parking lot.

  “So, on the way back it’s your turn, Red.”

  This time I opened the door myself before he could get around the car.

  Chapter 7

  Dinner was...interesting. Everyone—except me and Dusty—greased their wheels with the wide selection of beer on tap. Even though Taylor wasn’t of age, Hunter just ordered two glasses at a time and handed her one when the waiter wasn’t looking. I didn’t even bother to try that, because Renee’s eyes were on me the entire time. She kept herself to one beer, but I knew from experience that she could pound them back when she wanted.

  The more alcohol the group consumed, the dirtier the stories got. Renee kept trying to shush them, as if they were going to poison my precious ears. Like it wasn’t anything I’d heard already. I’d been in college before. I also had the sneaking suspicion they’d been on their best behavior with me in the house.

  “Oh, my God, do you remember that time I walked in on you in the shower?” Mase said to Renee.

  “No, I cannot recall,” she said, becoming really interested in the half-devoured onion blossom. “But even if I did, that doesn’t mean it’s the kind of story one would tell in front of one’s impressionable younger sister.” Her words were sharp as knives and I think Mase and everyone else got the message. Then there was one of those silent moments where everyone is super uncomfortable and doesn’t know what to say. It stretched out until Dusty cleared his throat loudly and then made a whistling sound like an airplane diving and then crashing in a giant explosion. It was pretty accurate-sounding and made everyone laugh nervously. Our waiter chose that moment to come over and ask if anyone wanted more drinks. I got myself another Dr Pepper and Dusty got another Mountain Dew.

  “You’re going to be up all night if you keep drinking that stuff,” I said. Of course we’d been the last people to arrive at the restaurant, so we’d gotten the last two chairs at the end of the table, so of course I was next to him.

  “Maybe that’s my plan. Maybe I don’t sleep.”

  All I could think of were supernatural creatures. “Vampire, werewolf or zombie?”

  “All of the above,” he whispered and winked at me. Why was
I talking to him again?

  I stole a glance down the table at Renee, but Paul was telling her something and she was laughing. Thank you, Paul. I caught his eye and gave him a thumbs-up.

  “Your sister is, um, protective,” Dusty said.

  “It’s a recent development.”

  He waved his hand for me to elaborate. “Due to...”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “None of your business.” I was not going into my life story with him even though he’d shared his. I didn’t ask him to. I didn’t care.

  “I think we need to have a toast,” Darah said, raising her glass. I knew she wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but she seemed to have changed her mind. “To our new resident, Jos.”

  “May her life decisions be much wiser than ours,” Mase finished for her. Glasses were raised and clinked and there was some minor beer sloshing as my ears turned red and I tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Yeah, my life decisions weren’t anyone’s business but mine.

  I hate it when people say “seize the day.” Seizing sounds so violent. How about “love the day” or just “live the day”?

  Live the day.

  A pair of fingers snapped in front of my face, making me jump.

  “Come back to earth, Red. You were orbiting somewhere else. That’s dangerous, you know.” I turned toward him and a retort formed on my lips, but I let it die. He wasn’t worth it. He didn’t understand. So I just gave him a sweet smile and imagined dumping the glass of Mountain Dew on his head. It would have been so satisfying, but I would have made a scene.

  “Okay, okay, it’s time for some of us to go home because some of us have class tomorrow,” Renee said.

  “She means me,” I said in a stage whisper to the entire table. They laughed, some more than others, but that was probably because of the beer and not because I was that funny.

  “I can drive her,” Dusty said as everyone tried to figure out the bill and how much they should tip. Most of the guys did their guy thing and refused to let the poor delicate females even consider paying. After a few lectures about feminism and the increasing popularity of going Dutch, the guys won the battle and the ladies left the tip. Paul ended up paying for me, mostly because I was broke as shit.

  “But then you’d have to go to our house and drop her off and then drive back. It’s no big deal—I’m fine to drive,” Renee said.

  “It’s not a big deal. I forgot my phone at your place anyway.” He was totally lying. I’d seen it in his pocket, but I kept my mouth shut.

  “If you don’t mind...”

  “It’s no big deal, Ne,” he said. So I guess everyone was calling her that these days. She’d always hated it when Paul called her “Nene,” but I guess she was over it. You can only fight a nickname for so long before everyone just decides to use it with or without your permission.

  What if I call you...Josie? Jo? Jojo? Lyn?

  He’d finally agreed to call me Jossy, which was the only suggestion I could live with.

  “You went away again, Red. You have a habit of doing that?” Dusty said, bringing me back again.

  “None of your business.”

  He laughed as we walked, and some of us stumbled a bit, out of the restaurant.

  “You sound like a robot when you say that. Means I’ve hit on something you’d like to keep hidden. You’re one of those onion girls.”

  “Onion girls?” I had a brief visual of a girl wearing an onion costume. “Are you saying I smell like an onion?”

  We got to the car and I let him open the door, standing back and folding my arms. Damn, it was fun screwing with him. He was about to open it but pulled his arm back at the last second and walked around to his side of the car. I wrenched it open, got in and fastened my seat belt.

  “No, I mean that you’re one of those girls with layers. You know, you’re more than just a pretty face. Plus, you don’t have to scrape through a layer of makeup to get there.” While it was true that I didn’t wear a lot of makeup, I used to, back when I wore skirts more often than pants and had to look good for any photo opportunity. I used to get up early every single day and straighten my hair and line my eyes just so. I had the cat eye thing down to a science. I honestly didn’t know where my eyeliner was. I definitely hadn’t seen it in months. Renee had probably stolen it.

  “Is that a nice and slightly weird way of saying I look like crap?”

  “Jesus, do you take everything negatively? Man, kick a guy for trying.” He shook his head and started making drum noises. “Your turn.”

  “I’m not telling you my life story, Dusty.”

  “I’m not asking for your life story. Just...give me something.”

  “Why? What do you want from me?”

  He shook his head, a different kind of smile on his face. It was almost shy. If anything about him could ever be considered shy.

  “Nothing, Red. Absolutely nothing.”

  And by the time I could think of something to say, we were back.

  “I know you didn’t forget your phone, you liar. Is something burning?” I pretended to sniff the air as we walked up the front steps. “I think your pants are on fire, dude.”

  “Ha-ha, you’re so funny.” He reached out and rang the doorbell. I raised my eyebrow. I would have just walked in. The bell dinged and then donged and Dusty made the exact same sound with his mouth. Somehow. The door opened, and Hunter gave both of us a look before holding the door open to let me in.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said to Dusty, but it sounded like a question. He tapped two fingers to his forehead and then flicked them upward in a little salute/wave. Yeah, okay.

  “’Bye.”

  Hunter was still looking at Dusty. Hmm. I was distracted from watching the two of them by a retching sound coming from the upstairs bathroom and then Mase yelling that he needed a hand. There was a sound like a herd of stampeding models as Renee and Taylor clacked their way up the stairs to take care of their fallen comrade.

  “Jos, can you bring me up a glass of water?” Renee said over her shoulder as the puking sounds got louder. Lovely.

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on it,” I said, giving her a thumbs-up and walking toward the kitchen. I set the glass in the sink, turning the water on, and tiptoed back to where I could hear Hunter and Dusty, but they couldn’t see me.

  “So, I’ll see you at Steiner’s tomorrow?” Hunter said.

  “Yeah. I might be late, but I let Kent know.” Dusty walked into the living room, and I could hear him rustling about “looking for his phone.”

  “Found it. See you tomorrow, man. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Thanks for coming.” I heard them slapping hands or fist bumping or performing some type of guy-bonding ritual and then the door closed and I realized the glass of water was overflowing. I went back to the sink and turned it off.

  Bromance indeed.

  * * *

  My alarm shattered the calm of sleep the next morning so completely that I woke up cursing. Stupid fucking school. I rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. I was just taking care of business when a fist slammed on the door and Renee’s voice penetrated my morning fog.

  “You’d better not be late your first day.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but it would be nice if I could pee without being interrupted.”

  “Just get your ass upstairs in ten minutes, or I’m coming back down and dragging your ass to class, no matter what you look like.”

  “Jesus H. Christ,” I muttered under my breath. I couldn’t even remember my mother being this wound up about taking me to kindergarten.

  “Hurry up,” she said, rattling the doorknob for good measure. I had half a mind to walk upstairs stark naked and say I was ready, just to see the look on her face. But I didn’t fancy being naked in front of all the guys, s
o that plan was out.

  Eight minutes later I was shoving an egg and cheese sandwich that Taylor had made in my face and shoving notebooks in my new messenger bag. Back in my “before” life, I’d carried a designer handbag just like all the other girls. Of course I also had a small clutch purse that went with it for all my makeup and tampons and such. Now I had a black messenger bag with lots of pins and buttons on it that I’d collected. I’d thrown my red hair back in a braid, put on my luckiest jeans and called it good enough.

  Since everyone’s schedules were different, I was finally allowed to take my own damn car. Renee had gotten me a parking pass and handed me back the keys she’d stolen when I moved in on the condition that I didn’t get into any shenanigans. I’d been completely shenanigan-free ever since I’d gotten here, but that didn’t seem to matter to anyone. They were all still watching me, waiting for me to screw up. Maybe I should, just to put them out of their misery.

  I said goodbye to everyone, promising I’d come back in one piece later.

  I blasted Ingrid Michaelson on my drive to campus and sang at the top of my lungs. It took a few times of driving around the football field for me to find a free commuter parking spot. Apparently they were real asshats about parking in areas that weren’t designated for you to park in.

  Finally, I found one, even though I had to squish in between a minivan and a huge truck and slide sideways to get out. I had ten minutes to get to my first class, Intro to American Law. I’d thought about changing majors, but I knew I could pretty much sleep through most of my poli-sci classes, so I stuck with what I knew.