Being with Vaughn was fun and unsettling, like going to a great party when you should be studying for a final.
And then, one day, the party ended.
It was a Thursday, about a week after Elin’s parents checked her into that facility. Vaughn’s parents were out of town and he wanted me to come over, but I was going to Teddy’s aikido match. “There’s always tomorrow,” I said as we walked to the parking lot after school, kicking up fresh drifts of snow.
Vaughn rolled his eyes. “You’re ditching me for that fag?”
I stopped and turned to stare at him. “You can’t say that to me,” I said.
Vaughn held up his hands, as though he were apologizing, but the smirk never left his face. “Sorry, I forgot about your moms. My bad.”
“Not just that,” I said. “You can’t use that word and you can’t talk shit on Teddy, either. He’s one of my best friends.”
Vaughn rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” I agreed, but I’d already decided to blow him off. With that one comment, I stopped caring that I’d lusted after him for months. I was done, a switch flipped somewhere deep inside me, and I didn’t really care what he had to say about it. That was one advantage to him not being my boyfriend—I very literally did not have to take his feelings into account.
At first, Vaughn acted like he didn’t care, which didn’t surprise me. After all, there were plenty of girls lining up to try out Vaughn’s sexin’ skills and get themselves a free pair of goggles.
I should have guessed he hadn’t really let it go. He didn’t like the word no.
Teddy stretched out his back like a cat. “Well, where is our little felon? We can’t have her getting caught on her big night.”
“I don’t think underage drinking is a felony,” I said.
“I don’t think there’s a word that means ‘person who commits misdemeanors,’” Teddy countered.
I grinned despite myself and slid down to sit beside him. “You know who would know if there was? Jenna.”
22
Rosie Winchester
April 18, 8:00 PM
Elin and I wandered by the edge of the dance floor. Brightly colored dresses whirled and bounced and flickered to the pulse of the music, living confetti among all the dark suits. Silver, magenta, baby blue, rich violet, and gold under ever-changing lights. I felt a flash of longing, but I didn’t dance. “Are you having fun?” I asked Elin, raising my voice over the deejay
Elin turned and smiled, but her expression looked wan and brittle. “Totally,” she said.
I raised my eyebrows, but she turned her attention back to the dance floor. I decided not to push it. I watched people dancing, feeling weirdly disconnected. Where were Jenna and Ket? What was the point of coming to the dance together if they were just going to run off?
“How bored are you?” Elin yelled over the music. “On a scale of one to ten?”
I forced a smile. “I’m not bored.”
I peeked at Elin from the corner of my eye to see if she knew I was lying, but she wasn’t paying attention. She was staring out at the dance floor, eyes shining. I followed her gaze and scowled—Ben dancing with Jamie Nelson, a girl from track. The words bubbled up before I could stop them. “That douchebag? Still?”
“He’s not a douchebag, Ro,” Elin said, softer. If I hadn’t been watching her, I might have missed it.
I gritted my teeth and refused to respond.
It didn’t take a genius to add up the facts preceding Elin’s suicide attempt. She and Ben broke up a few weeks before. And before that, she’d admitted to me that she didn’t even like having sex with him. She denied that he was pressuring her, but she was hiding something.
The fact that she relentlessly defended him now was just more evidence against him.
Elin couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Any guilt I felt over telling him to get lost and leave Elin alone at Fisher’s party evaporated. He was not the guy I’d thought he was.
I glanced around, searching for a sparkling rose gold mini dress, a poof of hot pink. Where were Jenna and Ket? Seriously, why did Jenna even want all of us to come to this dance if she wasn’t even around? “If you’re not having fun, we should ditch prom,” I said suddenly. “Will gave me his credit card; we can call a cab and go do something else. Anything else.”
“Maybe,” Elin replied, but it was her maybe that meant, I don’t think so. She glanced over at me. “So you really hate this, right?”
I opened my mouth, shut it. “Kind of,” I admitted. “It’s just not my thing.” (I wish it were my thing.)
One corner of Elin’s mouth turned up. “Jenna’s making you?”
I grinned. “Maybe.”
Elin shook her head, the hint of a smile on her face. “Let’s get some pictures and spend at least an hour dancing, and then split. My dad gave me cash this week for a spa day, but we can go blow it on sushi. If Jen needs to stay until the end, we can come back for her. Deal?”
It felt like an invisible weight had lifted off my shoulders. “Deal,” I said, relieved.
“I’m going to go find Ket,” Elin said, heading toward the doors. “She thinks I’m mad at her.”
23
Jenna Sinclair
April 18, 8:30 PM
“Miles!” He turned, his smile lighting up. He wore dress pants and a white shirt tucked in, but he had rolled up his sleeves and discarded his jacket and tie somewhere. I should probably make him put them back on before our picture, but at that moment he looked like a black teenaged James Bond.
Oh my gosh. They should totally make that movie.
“Hey, J,” Miles called, walking toward me. “I’ve been looking for you—I just saw Elin but I haven’t run into anyone else yet. Is everything going great up in the gym?”
I picked up my skirt and ran toward him, slipping a little before slamming into him. I couldn’t stop giggling. “It looks so pretty! I can’t wait for you to see it,” I said, grinning. At least, I hoped I was grinning—I could barely feel my cheeks.
Miles wrapped his arm around my waist and bent to whisper in my ear. “What is with you tonight?”
I wrapped my arm around his neck and stared up at him, my giggles evaporating into a sense of calm and peace. Damn, I loved Miles. I should have found him as soon as we got to the dance—I could be at my most raw-nerve anxious, and he’d find a way to make me feel like myself again. Panacea: a cure for all difficulties.
Not for the first time, I wished I had told him about Elin when it all happened. But I hadn’t. I’d kept it a secret, and now it was too late to explain. At first, I’d told myself it was because Elin’s parents wanted it that way, but that wasn’t it.
It was because Miles thought I was perfect. And if I told him one piece of it, I knew the whole thing would come tumbling out.
And there’s nothing less-perfect than being unable to handle the effect your friend’s suicide attempt had on you.
“Everything set up for your LAN party?” I asked, tracing the outside of his ear with one fingertip.
Miles laughed and pulled me closer. “I guess I just figured out what got into you,” he whispered. “You might want to snag some gum, my crazy little ginger.”
I clapped my hands over my mouth. “No! Serious?” I leaned back and laughed. Miles tightened his grip around my waist so I wouldn’t fall.
This was what I wished my friends had. Someone to keep them on their feet. Elin used to have it with Ben. I’d hoped that Rosie would find it with Teddy—but I’d since revised my opinion on that.
Miles grinned, his forehead pressed against mine. “Yeah, you gotta learn to be sneakier.”
I relaxed into Miles. Ebullient: joyful and full of energy. “Did you see the gym? Doesn’t it look pretty?” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Did you get some refreshments?”
“It looks great,” Miles said, tightening his grip around my waist, and I sighed. “Hey, you won’t get any drunker th
an this, right?” he asked.
I smiled, shaking my head. “Promise. I overdid it at Fisher’s party, that’s all.” I’d even checked an online BAC calculator on my phone to see when I’d be sober again. Five shots—or was it six? probably just five—plus a rum and Coke that I hadn’t even liked that much and a beer added up to full sobriety at 3:30 a.m. Ta da!
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re kinda cute drunk,” Miles teased. “But if you don’t feel good, come find me and I’ll take you home.”
“You can’t take me home drunk, silly,” I scolded. “Promise me you won’t take me home if I’m drunk. Even if I ask you to.”
He laughed. “Fine, I’ll let you sleep it off and then I’ll take you home.”
“Miles, you’re up in five minutes, dude!” called Rob Jackson, who I noticed had not dressed up for prom. Ugh.
“I’ll be right there!” he called. He leaned in to kiss me and I leaned back, blocking my mouth with my hand. “What?”
“My bad breath,” I whispered, my fingers forming prison bars over my lips, but my whisper was way too loud. A couple kids turned and snickered.
Miles laughed, kissing me on the forehead. “It’s not bad, it’s just boozy. And I’d want to kiss you anyway. What time do you want me for pictures?”
I paused. “You know what? Let’s just take some on our phones later,” I said. “The photographer is totally overpriced.”
Miles grinned. “You are really drunk.”
I wrapped my arms around him, resting my cheek on his chest. “And you are really the best,” I whispered.
He kissed the top of my head. “Right back ‘atcha. Now get back in there, tiger.”
24
Rosie Winchester
April 18, 8:35 PM
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned around. “Would you like to dance?” FDR asked, holding out one hand, a half-smile on his ludicrously handsome face.
I didn’t even bother hiding my scowl. “Seriously? Didn’t you get the message at Fisher’s party?”
He grinned, putting his hand in his pocket. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of mean?”
“All the time,” I lied. (People would have to talk to you to know that you’re mean.)
“Well, Mean Girl, I remember our conversation going differently. It seemed to me like you were warming up to me a little bit when your friend pulled you away.”
I shrugged noncommittally, glancing around. Where were my friends? FDR seemed like he was flirting with me, which was a little (a lot) out of my area of expertise.
The silence between us stretched into an uncomfortable length. Finally I forced myself to look back at FDR. His faint smile hadn’t faded. “It’s just one dance,” he said lightly. “And you don’t seem super busy.”
If someone else had said it, I would have taken it as a slight—but something in FDR’s tone made it seem like a kind observation. I couldn’t stop the rueful smile that spread across my face. “Sounds good, FDR.”
He laughed and took my hand. “Are you going to call me that all night?”
I pursed my lips, resisting a smile as we headed to the dance floor. “That’s the plan.”
FDR wrapped his arms around my waist. I couldn’t help but shiver when his fingertips brushed my bare skin. I hesitated one second before gingerly placing my hands on his shoulders, stubbornly resisting wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Why do you dislike me so much?” FDR asked, as casually as you might say, So where are you going to college next year?
“I don’t dislike you,” I said, glancing around the room as we swayed to the music.
“Liar. You disliked me from the first second I tried to talk to you.”
“No. I just wasn’t interested in flirting with another girl’s date,” I said, meeting his gaze.
A smile flickered across his face, and I glanced away again. “I told you, Fisher and I aren’t dating. I promise.”
“Umm, have you missed the part where I’ve been calling you FDR because you’re on a date with Fisher?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I noticed. But what I mean is, Fisher and I are just friends.”
I felt a pang and wondered if Fisher knew that. As a girl who had wound up on the misleading end of just friends before, I was sympathetic to Fisher Reese for the first time in my life. In fact, it might have been the first time in history that anyone had to sympathize with Fisher Reese about anything.
I looked up into his eyes. They reflected pinpoints of light, like they were full of tiny silver stars. I swallowed. “Why do you like me?”
“What makes you think I like you? I barely know you.” His lips curved up as he said it.
“But you’ve been bugging me all night.”
“Since when is asking a pretty girl to dance bugging her?”
“Since she’s made it perfectly clear that she would prefer you left her alone.”
He took my hand from his shoulder and spun me in a slow circle. Somehow at the end of my turn, I ended up a little closer to him than when I began, my arms squarely around his neck. He offered me a half-smile. “I was kind of just hoping that was Katherine Hepburn–style banter.”
“Katherine Hepburn? What, are you a film major?”
“German major, linguistics minor.”
“Bold choice. I assume you’re prepared to make a lot of lattes in the future?”
FDR laughed, tightening his grip around me ever-so-slightly. I swallowed, trying to keep my face impassive. “Come on, if that wasn’t Hepburnesque, I don’t know what is.”
“So does that make you Spencer Tracy?”
“It makes me trying to be Spencer Tracy.”
I laughed—I couldn’t help it. He grinned down at me. “I’m growing on you, aren’t I?” he said, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
I pursed my lips, struggling to ignore the electricity shooting up my spine and racing over my scalp, sending tingles through each strand of my hair. Stop it, Rosie! He’s on a date, and even if he weren’t, you are not the dating type. “Your dancing is growing on me.”
“Close enough, Kate.”
My smile faded. “Seriously though. Even if I believed you about Fisher … you don’t want to grow on me. I’m kind of a disaster.”
One corner of FDR’s mouth quirked up. “I doubt that.”
I broke my best friend’s heart. I shrugged, glancing away. Thinking about Teddy usually made me want to cry.
But dancing with FDR was making it really hard to think about Teddy at all for some reason.
8:45 PM
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw Jenna, a satisfied smile on her face. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said as FDR and I stepped apart. “I just have to borrow Rosie for one quick second.”
I touched my hair self-consciously. For one second when Jenna interrupted, I felt disappointed.
(Stupid.)
“I better go check in with Fisher anyway,” FDR said, letting go of my hand. “But I’m going to find you later.”
“Jeez, is it me, or is Fisher’s date super into you?” Jenna whispered as we walked away.
Whatever warm feeling had swept over me while we were dancing dissipated. “He’s just goofing off,” I muttered. “He’s on a date with Fisher.”
“Fisher doesn’t date, she’s escorted places,” Jenna retorted. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “Where’s Elin? I’ve got a surprise for her.”
“What?” I asked, glancing around for her. “She went to go look for Ket, I think.”
“Never mind. You’ll see her in a minute,” Jenna sing-songed.
I wriggled out of her grasp. I’d had no idea that drunk Jenna was so affectionate. She stumbled and I grabbed her arm. “Seriously, Jen, how are you still this drunk?” I whispered, careful not to let everyone around us hear. It was probably obvious, since Jenna was practically falling out of her shoes, but I didn’t want to be the one who busted her.
Jenna rolled her eyes. “It’s prom, Rosie. Stop mot
hering everyone all the time. This is why you have no fun.”
I blinked, letting go of Jenna’s arm. “Seriously, Jenna? You’re being a giant bitch tonight.”
Jenna groaned. “Oh, don’t be like that. I just want you to loosen up a little. I did.”
I clenched my jaw but didn’t reply.
“One, two, three. Can everyone hear me?”
Up on stage, Josh Bowman stood at the microphone, an envelope in his hands. The music faded and people began shouting and whooping. Josh raised his hands, directing everyone to hush. “Welcome to prom, Park City High!” he yelled into the microphone, and the screeching sound of feedback filled the gym. “Yikes, sorry about that,” Josh said, grinning a cheesy politician grin. “All right, I don’t want to take up too much time, so let’s just get to the main event—your prom court!”
Kids cheered. I tried not to yawn. I knew this was Jenna’s bag, and I was intellectually proud of her for pulling it all off. But honestly, who gave a crap?
I zoned out as Josh announced the attendants and prom king. Jenna poked my arm. I flinched. “What the hell, Jenna?” I asked, irritated.
“Listen!” Jenna snapped.
Up on stage, Josh was opening a second envelope. He paused and, for one moment, a look of hesitation crossed over his face. “And the prom queen is … Elin Angstrom!”
My eyebrows shot up. I turned to look at Jenna, who had a smug smile on her face. All around us people clapped, but there were murmurs of confusion. “Did you do this?” I whispered, bringing my hands up to clap for Elin.
Jenna shrugged, smiling. “Maybe.”
I glanced around. People seemed vaguely confused by the announcement but not disbelieving. Elin was pretty and likeable. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that she’d be prom queen.
Aside from the fact that she didn’t exactly have a ton of friends left to vote for her.
And had disappeared for some mysterious reason last month.
When the Truth Unravels Page 11
