My Sweet Escape

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Yeah, fine. What are you doing up?”

  “I guess I was just excited about everything. I can’t believe he actually did it.” She grabbed a glass from the dish drainer and filled it with water. “When he first got her the ring I thought he’d proposed, but then the ring was on her right hand. It was only a matter of time, though. Those two are destined for each other.”

  “You jealous?” She gave me a look like I’d said something completely outlandish.

  She snorted some of the water and choked. “Of them getting married? Hell, no. I am not ready to get married.”

  “But you’re living with Paul. I mean, it’s not exactly the same thing, but it’s close.”

  She laughed.

  “Oh, my dear sweet little sister. There is a world of difference between living with someone and marrying them.”

  “But you would marry Paul. Eventually, I mean.”

  “Yeah, years down the road when we both are out of debt and have more than two nickels to rub together. I don’t want to spend a shit ton of money on a wedding if we can’t even afford to pay for our health insurance or a place to live. Besides, I want a huge-ass wedding, and I’m only going to do it once. Why not do it right?” She had valid points, rational points. I wondered how Paul felt about it. Not that it mattered. Renee wore the pants, the shirts and everything else in their relationship. She had him by the balls, but he never seemed to mind.

  “So what was with you and Dusty?”

  “What do you mean?” Shit, I did not want her to get on my case about him.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

  “I’m not interested in him,” I said for the millionth time.

  “I didn’t think you would be. I mean, he is so not your type at all.” Wasn’t. I didn’t have a type anymore.

  “I can say this now that you’re not with him, but I never liked Matt. He was always so... I don’t know.” She waved her hand, trying to come up with the right word.

  “Uptight?” I supplied. Yeah, so was I.

  “No, it was something more than that. I always felt like he was judging me and found me wanting. But he treated you right, and I saw that he loved you, so I kept that to myself.” Not really. I could tell the whole time I’d dated Matt from high school to college that Renee hadn’t liked him. She was pretty bad at hiding when she didn’t like someone, but I would never tell her that.

  She drained the glass of water. “Okay, well, I’m going back to bed. Night, little sister.” She held her arms out for a hug and I held mine out too and we hugged like we used to.

  “Night, big sister.”

  I took the rest of my tea and went back down to my cave and turned my music on. Ingrid Michaelson’s voice filled my ears, feeling weirdly appropriate for late-night listening.

  “Here, listen to this one,” he said, handing me one of his earbuds. I fitted it to my ear as an unfamiliar voice sang about loving someone, but feeling like a freak in comparison. When I’d told him I didn’t really listen to music, he’d taken it as a challenge. Each day, he would bring me a new song. Pop, rock, country, rap, oldies, whatever. He’d listen to pretty much anything. “As long as it’s good,” he said.

  “Music says what words can’t. Add words to music and you say two things at once.”

  I missed him, but I still couldn’t talk about him, out loud. Not to Renee, not to anyone. I couldn’t explain it. He’d been the first real friend I’d ever had. He’d been the friend that made me realize that all the other people I thought were my friends really weren’t.

  I hadn’t been in love with him, not that way, but I’d loved him all the same. I’d heard something somewhere that said guys and girls couldn’t be friends without at least one falling in love with the other, but it wasn’t true. There were just different kinds of love, that’s all. He’d been like the brother I never had, and he’d treated me like a sister. A part of me was gone, taken with him when he...

  I turned off the music. It made me think of him, and I knew what he would have said if he knew I was moping about him.

  Just smile, Jossy. The world isn’t that bad. Besides, you have to have the bad parts so you recognize the good ones when they come along.

  Chapter 11

  “Wow, this show is ridiculous.” I was sitting with Hannah on the futon under her lofted bed, watching my second episode ever of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “It’s so weird. Those computers are, like, gigantic,” I said.

  “I know, right? Like, in the best way. Just wait until the third season.” Hannah had her trusty bag of Skittles and I’d brought some M&M’s from the vending machine in the basement of her dorm and I was mixing them in an empty Solo cup. “You know, a lot of the problems on this show could have been resolved by cell phones. But then you wouldn’t have such an entertaining show, so I guess it’s fine the way it is.”

  I held my cup out and she poured some more Skittles into it.

  “Heard from Dusty?” she said, eyes on the screen.

  “Uh, no. He doesn’t have my number, so that’s a negative.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Do you want me to have heard from him? Because you were acting really weird yesterday.”

  “Oh, that? I was just being the protective friend. I wanted to see how he’d respond. A lot of guys get intimidated by a protective friend, and then there’s always the ones you need to watch out for, the guys that are threatened by a girl having friends.”

  “Have you known a lot of guys like that?”

  “A few. Here and there.” Yeah, there was much more to that story. An asterisk and a lot of footnotes in tiny print. I didn’t think we had passed the friendship milestone where I could interrogate her until she told me about it, so I let it go.

  “And the verdict on Dusty?”

  “He seems like a nice guy. Cocky, and he might have a dark past he’s trying to hide, or maybe he’s a closet fan of Lord of the Rings, or a hoarder, or obsessed with something weird, but I don’t think he’s a bad guy. Didn’t get that bad-guy vibe. Bad-boy vibe, yes.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  She paused the show and sighed, brushing her hair away from her face.

  “Okay, a bad boy is one that makes you all, like, tingly. He’s dangerous in a good way. A way that makes your heart race and want to ride a motorcycle or go skinny-dipping. A bad guy is one who hurts you, or makes you feel worthless, or isolates you from your friends. He’s just dangerous. Those are the guys to stay away from.”

  “Oh.” She seemed to have it all figured out, and I could tell she’d spent a lot of time thinking about bad guys as opposed to bad boys.

  “So Dusty is a bad boy.”

  “Definitely. Unless you see any red flags. Then you run in the opposite direction.”

  “I’m pretty sure if there were any red flags, my sister and the rest of the people I live with wouldn’t let him near me. Hunter wouldn’t be friends with a bad guy.”

  “Still. You never know. People aren’t always what they seem. You spend years thinking they’re one way and then something happens and they reveal who they really are.”

  “But you can’t go through life thinking that everyone is bad.”

  “I don’t. I told you—I trust my instincts.”

  We weren’t going to agree, so I dropped it and we went back to watching the show, but I thought a lot about what she’d said about people being bad or good, and trying to tell the difference.

  I didn’t think I’d ever met a really bad person. Even my ex and my ex-friends weren’t bad people.

  I’d been just like them, and I didn’t think I was a bad person. That guy, Travis, the one who had hurt Taylor, he was a bad guy. I didn’t need to meet him or know anything else about him to know that. But did that mean he would alway
s be bad? Could people change?

  I’d changed.

  I had so many thoughts running through my head I almost forgot about the engagement dinner and found the house in chaos when I got back from Hannah’s.

  Mase was on his hands and knees in the living room, along with Hunter and Darah.

  “What do they look like again?” Hunter said, patting his hands on the floor.

  “They’re little gold studs. Remember, Taylor gave them to me?” Darah said, closing one eye and putting the side of her face on the floor.

  “Right,” Hunter said.

  “Found it!” Mase held his hand out to Darah, and she gave him a kiss.

  “Thanks, baby.” She stood up and brushed off the front of her black dress and put the earring in her ear.

  Both Hunter and Mase had nice dress shirts on and nice pants with dress shoes.

  “Where have you been?” Renee said, slipping her heel into her shoe and walking down the steps at the same time. Paul was just behind her, making sure she didn’t take a dive down the stairs. She had one of her best dresses on; green with swirls of black on the hem. Paul was also wearing a green shirt. Oh, no. They’d become one of “those” couples.

  “You’re not wearing that,” she said, pointing to my torn jeans and gray thermal shirt.

  “I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I’ll go change.” Shit, what was I going to wear? Everything nice was packed away. “I don’t have anything,” I said, biting my lip.

  “Are you serious? You used to wear dresses and skirts more than pants.” She put her hands on her hips.

  I shrugged. “I don’t have any.”

  “Okay, let me think.” She put her fingers to her temples. “I think I have something that you can wear. Come on.” She lunged out, grabbed my arm and dragged me upstairs.

  I bumped into Taylor on her way down from the third floor. She had a baby-blue dress that looked like it could have belonged to Audrey Hepburn and her hair was loose around her face.

  “Hey, Jos!”

  “Wardrobe crisis,” Renee said before yanking me into her room and throwing her closet doors open. Taylor followed, and Darah was right behind her.

  A flurry of activity followed, where I wasn’t allowed to talk or say anything. Much like a mannequin.

  They held things up to me and messed with my hair. Darah had the best hair skills, so she braided it, starting above my ear on one side of my head and going to the other, making a sort of crown. Back in my previous life, I’d been a big fan of buns, and had slicked my hair back so people could see that I was put together and meant business. Darah let my hair wisp out around my face and pulled a few strands loose.

  “There,” she said, putting a few bobby pins in place.

  Renee and Taylor were tossing dresses on the floor and finally settled on a sparkly gold party dress with a flared skirt.

  “I’m not wearing that,” I said as they started undressing me. “Jesus, can I have some privacy?” I ducked into the closet and pulled the door semishut. I didn’t care about Renee seeing me mostly nude, but it felt weird having the other girls there.

  The dress had enough going on the top so it covered my bra, which was good. I adjusted it a little and tried to zip it up in the back, but my arms didn’t move that way.

  “Um, can somebody give me a hand?”

  Renee hauled me out of the closet and zipped the dress up.

  “Perfect!” she said, hooking the clasp at the top of the dress so the zipper wouldn’t come down and cause a wardrobe malfunction. That would be just fantastic.

  She spun me around and the other two shoved earrings in my ears and started applying stuff to my face.

  “I am not a Barbie,” I said as Taylor swiped something on my eyelids. I was too busy concentrating on not getting poked in the eye to see what color it was.

  “You are right now, my dear,” Taylor said, smudging some of the color. Renee was busy looking through her makeup to find a color that would work on me and found some pink lip gloss.

  “Yes. Here we go.” She put it on my lips as Taylor tried not to jab my eye out with mascara.

  “Isn’t this unsanitary?” I said. “Shouldn’t you be disinfecting that before you stick it near my eye?” Renee was a big proponent of hand sanitizer and disinfecting things and coughing in your elbow.

  “Are you saying that you don’t want to share my germs? I mean, you are my sister. Are you saying you’re too good for my germs?” She pretend-glared at me.

  “Fine, fine. Am I done yet?” I really wanted to see what they’d done to me. I hoped it wasn’t like when one of my little sisters decided to play dress up and used my face to practice their makeup skills on.

  “Just about,” Taylor said, spritzing me with some of Renee’s perfume. Was that a subtle way of telling me that I smelled bad?

  “Done,” Renee said, straightening one of the straps of the dress.

  “Uh, shoes?” I was still barefoot. Through some miracle of genetics, Renee and I had identical-sized feet, so she shoved some black ballet flats on my feet. I was out of practice when it came to wearing heels. I’d probably fall on my face if I tried.

  “Okay, now you’re done,” Renee said.

  I turned and looked at myself in Renee’s full-length mirror. I looked like before me, only not. I never would have worn this dress, or done my hair this way, or put that much eye shadow on. Taylor had given me a sultry look that I was pretty sure I could never pull off, but it made me look older and mysterious. That illusion would be shattered the second I opened my mouth.

  “What are you doing up there?” Mase yelled up the stairs.

  “Making my sister sexy,” Renee yelled back. I gave her a look. “Oh, come on. I couldn’t let you go to a party in your frumpy wear. We should definitely go shopping.” I hated shopping. I’d always pretended to like it back when it had been a social obligation. I was actually thrilled that I didn’t have to do it anymore.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I probably wouldn’t have a choice. She’d force me to do it as some sort of sister bonding and attempt to get me back to the way I was. It would take a lot more than putting on my old clothes. Or new clothes that would have worked on the old me.

  “Can we go now?” I said, uncomfortable with attention already.

  “Let’s go, bitches,” Renee said, whooping. “We have some shit to celebrate!”

  * * *

  Renee, Paul and I drove to campus to pick up Hannah. I was so glad she’d agreed to go, because I figured a lot of the people there would be upperclassmen that I didn’t know.

  “Damn, you clean up good, girl,” Hannah said as she swept into the car, wearing a black shift dress. It was the first time I’d seen her arms bare, and I saw that the burn traveled down her neck and over her arm, as well.

  “It’ll be too dark, and most people will be too drunk to notice,” she said, turning her arm back and forth as if she was looking at it for the first time. “Plus, I love this dress and I’m not going to let anything stop me from wearing it.”

  She was awesome.

  The party was at a house just outside of campus that several of the Steiners rented together. There were already quite a few cars there when Renee pulled up.

  “Okay, here’s how this is going to go. If I see a drink in your hand, it better be soda. If I see you talking with any weird guys, someone will step in. You have a lot of eyes on you and this night is about Taylor and Hunter, okay? No shenanigans.”

  “Yes, yes. I got it.” I was kind of offended that she’d think that I would try to ruin their special night.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep her out of trouble,” Hannah said. “I’ve got my eye on you, young lady.” We were the same freaking age.

  Renee looked at Hannah and then back at me. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

>   The house was already full of people, none of whom I knew, which made me beyond grateful that I at least had Hannah.

  Hunter and Taylor were being bombarded with hugs and congratulations and bits of semisober unsolicited advice. Renee and Paul went to join them in the living room along with Megan and Jake as a few of the Steiners serenaded the rest of the room with dirty versions of popular songs.

  “Man, I wish I could drink without pissing your sister off. She scares the crap out of me, by the way,” Hannah said.

  “Yeah, she has that effect on people.” I scanned the room, looking for anyone that I might know.

  “You look nice.” As per usual, Dusty Sharp had sneaked up behind me. I spun slowly, preparing myself for his snarky comments at the change in my attire. What I wasn’t prepared for was to make him momentarily speechless. His eyes widened and scanned me up and down. Twice. He swallowed and made a kind of stuttering noise. Well, that was a first.

  “Keep your eyeballs in your head, dude,” Hannah said, stepping in front of me.

  “And you look ravishing as well, Hannah Gillespie.” He waved his arm to indicate her dress.

  “Nice recovery,” she said, patting his chest. Dusty didn’t look too bad himself. His pants almost fit him and he had a button-up on that was definitely a little tight in the chest region. Not that I paid any attention to it. Or the fact that the shirt clung to his arms, as well. They were...pleasant arms. Very nicely shaped and muscled. The kind of arms that you’d feel safe in, if you tripped. You knew they’d catch you....

  “You okay there, Red?” Dusty peered at me as if I’d been staring at him. Shit. I probably had been. No, I definitely had been. “How about I get you ladies something to drink. Nonalcoholic, I promise.”

  Dusty saw my hesitation. I didn’t accept drinks from anyone unless I’d poured or opened them myself.

  “Trust me, Red. I’ll bring you unopened cans. Tamper proof. Be right back.”

  “Smart. I never trust anyone at a party. Not that anyone would want to drug me,” Hannah said. She sounded disappointed, which was a little crazy.

  Dusty came back a few minutes later as Hannah and I were trying to figure out a good place to park ourselves.