Party Games

by Whitney Lyles

  “Let’s go check it out,” her dad said. “I had it detailed for you this morning.”

  “Thanks!” She forced a smile. “I mean, thanks for everything. You guys really are so generous.” Did her response sound fake? Because she didn’t want to be ungrateful. She had a car! Even if it was a van that had been used for hauling fish guts and cow manure.

  They headed out to the parking lot.

  “It’s over this way,” her father said.

  “Where?” She didn’t see the minivan anywhere. It took her a second before she noticed the gigantic red ribbon tied around a small silver Honda Civic. She screamed. “Is that for me?”

  Her mother put her arm around her shoulders. “I thought you could use a little bonus for working as hard as you have this summer, so your father and I both pitched in a little more than we’d planned and bought you the car. You have been so professional, and mature. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “From a young married couple, out of the Auto Trader. It has thirty thousand miles and it’s immaculate. They took such good care of it. Wait till you see the inside.”

  She ran to the car and practically flung herself over the hood. “I love it! It’s perfect!”

  It was decided in the parking lot that Sara would follow Allie to her house, where they would drop off the Zebra. Then Sara and Allie were going for coffee. Really, Sara just wanted to drive around town in her new car.

  After they ditched the Zebra, the first thing the girls did was roll down the windows, plug Allie’s iPod into the cigarette lighter, and blast Angels and Airwaves. Blake called to wish her a happy birthday, and Sara invited him to join them at Java Joe’s. They stopped at a gas station for gum, then headed to the coffee shop. Sara had to parallel park, which was a little intimidating, but after a couple of tries and Allie’s coaching, they squeezed into a spot.

  They had barely set foot inside the coffee shop when Blake joined them.

  He gave her a big hug before wishing her a happy birthday. “Let me buy your coffee,” he said. “It’s my birthday gift to you.”

  Sara got an iced mocha and Allie had the same. Blake had an espresso. They found a table and listened to Gorillaz blast from the speakers as they talked about cars and report cards. Blake’s friend, Thomas, joined them. He was nineteen and worked at the catering business too. Sara knew him from some of the events. Thomas entertained them with stories of wild nights in Tijuana—one of the benefits of being over eighteen.

  Neither Blake nor Thomas had a curfew, but Allie and Sara had to make it home by eleven. Blake and Thomas were headed for a party, and they walked with Allie and Sara to the car. Sara felt so independent and free as she went to unlock her car door. Her own keys. Her own car. It was surreal.

  “Hey, I’m still taking you up on that movie,” Blake said as they approached the Civic.

  “Taking me up?” She laughed. “You’re the one who came up with the idea in the first place.”

  “Well, whatever. You can drive us.”

  She shrugged, then smiled. “All right.” For some strange reason, she suddenly felt sentimental toward him. They’d been working at these parties together for a long time, and there were certain things that only the two of them could understand.

  As soon as Allie slammed the door behind her, she looked at Sara. “You’re going to the movies with Slick?”

  Sara shook her head. “He’s been saying it for months. It’ll never happen.”

  “I could see how some girls would like him,” Allie said. “He’s fun and cute.”

  They were both quiet for a moment.

  Then Allie said, “He’s nothing like Ian, though.”

  Sara felt her heart sink. “No. Nothing like Ian.”

  Twelve

  “Hi, Ian. How are you? It’s Sara.” Allie’s voice sounded confident as she spoke. She made it sound like calling Ian was going to be the easiest thing ever. “I was calling because I wanted to invite you to a party.”

  “Wait. Hold on,” Sara said. “What if he doesn’t even remember who I am? What if he knows, like, ten Saras? It’s a pretty common name.”

  “He’ll remember.”

  “Shouldn’t I say something like, ‘It’s Sara Sullivan—I planned your CD-release party’?”

  Allie shrugged. “You’re being so ridiculous. But I guess if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

  Sara was picking at a chocolate-covered glazed doughnut. She’d been at Hole in the Wall Donuts for the past forty-five minutes, rehearsing what she would say to Ian.

  She loved hanging out at the doughnut shop. It always smelled like coffee and freshly baked desserts. Allie let her try all the donuts she wanted. She couldn’t understand why anyone would bother with bagels or muffins if they’d ever set foot in Hole in the Wall. They made the doughnuts twice the size of regular ones, and Allie’s father had created his own secret recipe for the frosting and glaze. Sara had never found out what was in there, but she could eat ten frosted cake donuts in one sitting.

  Most mornings, there was a line out the front door, and Sundays were wild. Sometimes people waited two hours for a doughnut. Allie tossed Sara an orange juice from the beverage fridge. “Here, have another. It’s on the house.”

  “I hate this. All of this,” Sara said. “It’s so second grade. I mean, I haven’t asked someone to go out with my friend, or whatever she is, since I was in junior high.”

  “Well, I already told you what I think you should do.”

  “I can’t tell him the truth.”

  They rehearsed Sara’s spiel at least a dozen more times until Sara felt confident enough to call him. “Okay, I’m ready,” Sara said. “Can you turn the radio down a little?” The local rock station had been playing in the background. As soon as Allie lowered the volume, Sara dialed Ian. Her heart raced as the phone rang. Part of her hoped he would answer, and the other part hoped he wouldn’t. She was dreading the conversation, but she also didn’t feel like leaving a long-winded message on his voice mail or calling back. She just wanted to get it over with.

  “Hello?”

  He answered.

  “Hey-er-Ian?” HeyerIan? Could she sound like a bigger idiot?

  “Yeah?”

  “Ian, it’s Sara Sullivan. The one from the parties. The girl—”

  “Yeah, I know. How are you? What’s up? I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

  “Well, me neither. I mean, I never really expected to call you like this. But, um, anyway, I’m calling because do you know Dakota London?” The words fell out of her mouth like popcorn. They seemed to scatter everywhere. All the rehearsing she’d done with Allie had gone straight out the window the moment she’d heard his voice.

  “Tall blond girl?”

  “Yes. Well, um, she’s having a party, and she wanted to invite the band to come, or, I mean, you. But of course you can bring them if you want.” She had no idea what she was talking about. “I guess she has a vintage fifty-seven Les Paul that her dad needs tuned. He won’t be there or anything. In fact, her parents will be out of town. But she wants you to come and you can tune the guitar.” This had “elementary school” written all over it.

  She thought he would start asking a million questions about the guitar. Instead, he sounded confused. “Does she want us to play at this party?”

  “Um, no.” Sara realized that she was doing a horrible job of explaining. “She’s just inviting you to the party. I’m kind of coordinating for her. And there is also going to be this guitar there that needs tuning.”

  Allie giggled in the background. Sara knew it was because the whole thing sounded so silly.

  “I didn’t know you were friends with her. Hmm. I wouldn’t have thought you two would be friends.”

  She immediately began to analyze. Was it because he realized what complete opposites they were? Or was it because Dakota was so popular and wonderful that he couldn’t imagine her being friends with Sara?

  “Sure, I�
�ll come tune the guitar, I guess. A fifty-seven Les Paul, you said?”

  “Yes.” She started to pace around the doughnut shop.

  “That’s a sweet guitar.”

  “It’s a party. You don’t have to come just to tune the guitar. You can bring the rest of the band, too. Or whatever friends you want.”

  “Okay.”

  She told him when it was.

  “I doubt Tristan will go. He has poison oak all over his face, and he won’t leave the house until it clears up. Jeremy is in Europe with his parents for two weeks, and Casey works in a cover band like I do. And I’m pretty sure he has a gig this weekend.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “But I’ll go,” he said. “Only thing is, I don’t have a car right now.”

  “I can give you a ride.” Saying those words felt great. She felt so independent. She loved having a license.

  “Right on.”

  It hadn’t even been two seconds after she’d hung up before her phone rang. Dakota’s words came out in rapid fire. “Did you talk to him? Is he coming? What did he say?”

  “Yes, he’s coming.” Sara still walked from corner to corner.

  “Did he say anything about me? Did he ask about me?”

  “Um…he knew who you were.”

  “Wonderful! Now what will I wear?”

  Allie was staring at her after Sara hung up. “You are way too nice. I can’t believe you did that for her. I would’ve told her to—”

  Sara took a seat across from Allie. “Please. I already know.”

  “Well, I think I can safely get out the beads now. It’s noon.” Allie turned the volume on the radio up and pulled out her stash of beads.

  After twelve o’clock the doughnut shop became pretty slow. The occasional customer might stop by, saving themselves a trip for the following morning, but for the most part it was dead. Allie killed the afternoons by beading. Sara felt too fidgety to bead and instead watched Allie string together three rows of delicate red seed beads for a bracelet. As Sara admired Allie’s work, she heard a familiar-sounding beat on the radio. The deejay’s voice came over the sound of the music. “Here’s a new one from one of our local artists, On the Verge.”

  Allie’s mouth dropped open, and Sara clapped her hands together. “They’re playing them on the radio!” Sara screamed.

  “This is Nick Bones’s station. This is totally because of the party the other night,” Allie said.

  “I can’t wait to tell Ian.” Then Sara thought about how she’d probably be driving Ian to Dakota’s when she told him the news. She felt nothing but dread.

  Thirteen

  Sara wondered how long the excitement of slipping into a new car lasted. She looked forward to getting behind the wheel of the Civic more than small children look forward to Easter-egg hunts. She loved the car. Sometimes she would park in her driveway and wait a few seconds before getting out. She kept it cleaner than her bedroom and offered to drive almost everywhere she went with Allie.

  She’d been a little nervous about picking Ian up. What if she got lost? Or worse, what if she got into a car accident with him in the car? However, when she slid behind the wheel of the Civic, she realized she might not be picking him up—period. Her nervous excitement quickly turned to worry when she realized that the car wouldn’t start. She turned the key three times, and the engine didn’t even crack. She dialed her father.

  “Did you leave your cell phone charging? Or what about your iPod? Did you leave it in the cigarette lighter?”

  “Oh.” As the realization of what she’d done hit, she felt like a complete moron. She knew you couldn’t leave things charging. She’d just been so flustered lately that she’d totally forgotten to pull her iPod out of the charger. She’d drained the battery. “I did,” she said, ashamed.

  Dad turned on his lecture voice. “You can’t leave things charging in your car. Remember? We talked about this? You drained the battery. You’re going to have to call the auto club and have them come jump it for you.”

  “I don’t have my auto club card yet,” she groaned. “It’s on its way.”

  “Well, I can’t come over there to jump your car right now. Tracy and I are already late for the Padres game. You’re going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

  Mom and Gene were wine tasting and wouldn’t be back for hours.

  Part of her felt a little relieved. She had an excuse to get out of the whole event and abandon her unwanted matchmaking duties. It wasn’t her fault that the car had broken down—well, it kinda was. But Dakota didn’t have to know that. On the other hand, if she didn’t go to the party tonight, Dakota would just reschedule. She’d only be prolonging her misery. She might as well just get it over with.

  She called Allie. “I need a huge favor from you.”

  Allie listened while Sara explained her dilemma. “No worries. Shane’s picking me up to go see that Owen Wilson movie. He should be here any minute. He can just pick me up at your place and the Zebra’s all yours.”

  “Thanks! You are the best. I owe you big-time.”

  Sara heard the Zebra before she saw it coming. She’d recognize the rattling noise it made from anywhere. Before tonight, she’d never noticed exhaust streaming from its tailpipe though. A large gray cloud followed the Zebra like a shadow. The van screeched to a halt in Sara’s driveway. “Here you go.” The keys dangled from Allie’s fingers as she climbed out of the driver’s side.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you when you called. The AC broke. So you’ll have to keep all the windows rolled down.”

  This was getting worse by the minute, but Sara didn’t have time to complain. It was a ride, and without it she wouldn’t be going anywhere. “Thank you so much.” Sara didn’t waste a minute and hopped into the driver’s seat.

  “You look great!” Allie called. She pointed to her neck. “And you’re wearing the necklace again!”

  Sara touched the blue beads. “Yeah, but just because I wanted to look cute.” Maybe a small flicker of hope had still existed when she’d put on the necklace, but she felt ridiculous admitting that—even to Allie.

  Allie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Call me the second you get home.”

  Appearance wise, Sara had made a little more of an effort than her usual skinny jeans and tank top. She wore a strapless black baby-doll top that fell to her knees and a pair of destroyed jeans. The bright blue necklace popped from her neck. Maybe she did look great, but as long as she sat in the Zebra, she felt like her fresh appearance was getting sucked away with the wind.

  She knew her makeup was starting to look oily. The wind whipped her hair around her head, and her clothes felt stuck to every square inch of her body. The twenty-five-minute drive to Ian’s was plenty of time to make her look as though she’d just gone Jet Skiing in her own sweat.

  His two-story house was in a typical suburban San Diego neighborhood. The band’s van was parked in the driveway, and a couple of surfboards were propped next to the garage door. He surfed too? She’d been looking for someone to surf with for the past two summers.

  Her stomach felt tangled up when she rang the doorbell. A brief moment of silence passed before she heard footsteps galloping down what she imagined was a staircase.

  “I’m outta here.” She heard his voice as the footsteps drew closer.

  A woman called from somewhere far away. “What time will you be home?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Be careful. Call me if anyone gets drunk!”

  The door flew open. “Hey.” Those dimples never ceased to amaze her. He looked a little tanner, as if he’d been in the sun a lot since the last time she’d seen him. He held a hooded sweatshirt over his arm. She wondered what he thought when he saw her. He must be wondering if she’d jogged over to his house, she was so sweaty and disheveled.

  “Sorry I’m so late” she said. “I had quite the fiasco when I was leaving.” She told him about the dead battery in her car, then pointed to the Zebra. “I hope you don’t mind a
little heat. There’s no AC.”

  “No worries. Our van doesn’t have AC either. You should see the inside of it. I’ve made it a rule that if I drop something on the floor and it rolls under my seat, it stays under my seat. I’m afraid if I reach under there, something might bite me.”

  Sara laughed. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “You have no idea. Five guys in a van can get pretty gnarly.”

  “Well, this car bites. I mean, literally. If you sit in the backseat, you may get attacked by one of the wires in the seat cushions.”

  His laughter was genuine. Only, the funny thing was, she wasn’t kidding. She caught a whiff of his shampoo or soap. She wasn’t sure which, but it smelled clean.

  The Zebra was sweltering, and Ian threw his hoodie on the backseat.

  “I almost forgot!” she said. “I heard you guys on the radio the other day. Right after I talked to you.”

  He nodded. “I heard us too, and lots of friends have said they heard also.”

  “That’s so cool!”

  “Yeah, thanks to the CD-release party. I don’t think we’d be getting any airtime if it wasn’t for our huge release party. Thanks again.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He told her about the band and how their tours were pretty small at this point, but they played in Los Angeles quite a bit. Now that the CD was out, they were getting more shows in Southern California for the summer. Once school started back up, he’d have to wait to play anywhere outside San Diego again. He told her stories from the road. She laughed hysterically when he told her how they’d once left a rest stop parking lot without Tristan. They made it ten miles before they realized.

  “You guys are such opposites,” she said.

  “Yeah. I know.”

  The radio in the Zebra was broken. All the windows were rolled down, so they wouldn’t be able to hear the music anyway. Once they reached the freeway, the roar of wind kept the conversation limited. They had to yell just to understand a few words.