“Hi,” he—Michael—said to me.
“Hi.” I disentangled myself from Robin’s clammy arm. “Hey, thanks for before.”
Robin had been preparing to mix a drink at the bar but looked up when I said that. “Huh? You guys met already? See? I knew it.” She pointed the vodka bottle at us. “Destiny.”
I felt like kicking her. Instead I shot her a dirty look, which she ignored. She went back to her drink, turning away to presumably give me a chance to talk to Michael. However, if talking was what she’d intended for us to do, then this was certainly the wrong place for it. The music and noise would make it impossible for either of us to use a tone below screaming. But Michael was looking at me, expectant. My heart thumped in my chest, and all of a sudden I felt like I was in an elevator that was stuck between two floors.
“I think I need some air,” I said. The heat, the noise, the vodka…it was all too much. Michael didn’t catch my words so he leaned in close to hear me better. When he did I could smell shampoo and shaving cream and the intoxicating scent of boy and felt like I was about to faint dead away. “Air,” I squeaked.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow creasing in concern. When I didn’t answer, he put down his beer and led me over to the basement door and the wonderful, blessed fresh air. We walked past all the smokers and down the driveway toward the road. I closed my eyes and breathed, in and out, in and out, until my head began to clear.
“Thanks,” I said. “Again.”
He leaned against a black Jeep. “Better?”
“Much.” This was far more embarrassing than my father overhearing me talking about my breasts.
The breeze had turned chilly, so I pulled my sweatshirt on. I planned to wait out here for Lynn, who was due to pick Robin and me up in about forty-five minutes. Michael didn’t have to babysit me anymore—surely he had better things to do. But he didn’t move from his spot against the Jeep.
“You can go back inside, if you want” I said, fiddling with my sweatshirt zipper. “I’m not going to pass out or anything.”
He still didn’t budge. “Maybe I should stay out here and keep an eye on you,” he said. “Just in case.”
I glanced up at him and he smiled at me, but in a sweet, shy way, not in a smarmy way like Buzz Cut Boy. For some reason this made me more comfortable, and I let myself relax.
“So,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Do you go to RHH?”
I knew RHH meant Redwood Hills High, one of the fanciest and most well-equipped public schools in the area. “I live in Oakfield. My dad lives here. I mean, in downtown Weldon. Near Crawford Park. I stay with him most weekends and half of the summer.”
I heard myself babbling, but Michael nodded like what I’d said was interesting. “And you’re Robin’s friend.”
“She lives on the same street as my dad. How long have you known her?”
“A few months, I guess.”
I couldn’t believe she had never mentioned him to me before. Or maybe she had. Robin often bragged about all the hot guys she met at parties, but I could never keep them straight. “This isn’t your house, is it?”
He shook his head. “It’s my friend R.J.’s. His parents are in Maine for two weeks.”
I nodded. That explained the open liquor cabinet rummage.
“I live about three blocks from here, on Riverview.”
Of course. He was a Hills kid. He probably had his own car and a big fat college fund.
“And I’d never get away with having a party like this,” he added.
I smiled. “Me either.”
When he smiled back at me, I tried to determine exactly what it was that made him so appealing, besides his looks. He should have been arrogant, yet he had this quiet, reserved confidence that—against my better judgment—drew me right in. Hey, just because I’d given up boys didn’t mean I couldn’t still appreciate nice, good-looking ones. Even though I wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend, especially one who undoubtedly had so many girls lusting after him that he couldn’t be bothered to settle with just one, I almost envied his next girlfriend.
“My stepmother will be here soon,” I said, uncomfortable again. “I should go get Robin.”
Michael pushed himself off the Jeep and walked with me back into the house. The party had grown even crazier in our absence. Some people in the bathroom lineup looked positively green. Three girls stood on the sofa, dancing to the pounding music. At least a dozen people lined up near the unmanned bar, waiting for their turn to make drinks. And Robin, Miss Life of the Party herself, was now shooting pool with Devon and a few other kids, a glass affixed to her hand.
“Thanks again,” I told Michael before leaving his side. “For everything.” He had saved me twice tonight, once from wetting myself and once from passing out. At this rate, I was sure he wished he’d never met me.
“No problem.” He gave me another nice smile and then walked away. Damn, I thought, watching him go. Then I shook my head free of any indecent thoughts and went to find Robin. I sidled up to her while she waited to make a shot.
“Lynn will be here to pick us up any second,” I said.
“Tay!” She hugged me, almost impaling me with her pool cue. “Where have you been?”
“Outside,” I said, and then added as if in afterthought, “talking to Michael.”
She smiled and slapped her hands to her shiny cheeks, dropping the stick in the process. “I knew you guys would get along. I knew from the minute I met him that he was the perfect guy for you. Isn’t he sweet?”
“Yes, but I don’t—“
She squeezed my arms so tightly that I winced. “You two have so much in common. He’s like…he’s…the male you.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. “We have to go.”
“Oh, you go. I’ll get another ride. We’re just getting started here.”
“Are you sure?” I worried that she’d pass out outside on the massive lawn and be accidentally plowed over by a lawn mower in the morning, or worse.
“I’m sure.” She hugged me again. “I’m so happy for you. You’re my best friend and I love you.”
“Um, thanks,” I said, patting her back. This gushy drunk-talk was embarrassing.
“Michael’s a nice guy, he really is. He’ll make you happy.”
“Okay.”
I’d agreed only to make her happy, not because I believed it would ever happen.
Chapter 5
Jamie sprinted toward me as I crouched over the dining room rug, scrubbing at a fruit punch stain. “Taylor, can you get this untied?”
I looked up, tossing the hair out of my eyes. He held up the remote controlled helicopter that he’d gotten for his birthday. Twisted around its propellers was one of those little figurines with the plastic parachute attached. I gave up on the stain and stood up, taking the helicopter from him. “Man, Jamie,” I said, examining the knot. “I think I’m gonna have to cut this.”
“It was Brandon,” he said quickly. “He wanted to see if he could launch the parachute and then slam it with the helicopter.”
Ten-year-old boys gave me migraines. Especially ones who were hopped up on birthday cake, caffeine, and video game violence. So far I’d broken up four fights, rescued Leo from being the stand-in pony for “rides” around the living room, and pulled chewed licorice out of some poor girl’s hair. Not to mention the punch explosion on the rug. The party was almost over, and just in time. I was about five minutes away from curling up into a fetal position and rocking back and forth in a corner. These kids were animals.
As I stood in the empty kitchen, rummaging through the disorganized junk drawer for a pair of scissors, I was startled by a loud knocking. I looked over at the sliding glass doors to see Robin standing on the other side, waving and grinning hugely. My hand on my chest, I went over to turn the lock and let her in.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I said.
She laughed and rubbed her hands over her goosebumpy arms. Th
e temperature outside had plummeted that morning, but she wore yoga pants, a tank top, and flip-flops. Her long auburn hair was smoothed back into a ponytail. Even makeup-free, she looked beautiful.
“What is going on in here?” she asked as a thunderous crashing sound filtered into the kitchen. It sounded like the DVD rack falling over. “And what are you doing?”
I’d found the scissors and was attempting to free the parachute guy. “It’s Jamie’s birthday, and I’m going insane.”
Lynn bustled into the kitchen then, followed by half a dozen party-goers in need of thirst-quenching. While my stepmother filled plastic cups with water, the group of kids—four boys and two girls, one of them Emma—all stared at Robin. One of the little boys’ faces turned tomato red.
“Are you a model?” asked the girl who’d had the chewed licorice in her hair.
Robin smiled and struck a pose—hand behind her head, one hip jutting out. “Yeah, I model swimsuits for Eskimos.”
The tomato-faced boy gaped, his mouth hanging open. You could almost hear puberty setting in.
“It’s just Robin,” Emma said as she handed out the cups of water. “Come on, let’s go.”
They drank quickly and took off out of the room. Lynn rubbed her temples as she trailed after them.
“Just Robin,” Robin said, shaking her head.
I worked the scissor blade under the string. “The little blond boy seemed taken with you.”
“Tell him to look me up in about ten years. Here, give me that before you sever your finger.” She took the helicopter and scissors from me, and in no time at all the little man was untangled, landing with a thud on the ceramic tile. Robin unwound the parachute from the propellers and handed it to me.
“Impressive,” I said.
“Everyone is talented at something.”
The doorbell started ringing then; parents arriving to collect their heathens. When they were all gone, save for my sister and stepbrother, the house felt eerily still.
“Thank you,” Lynn said, hugging me tight. She looked wrung-out. “Taylor, you’re off duty now. Your dad promised he’d clean up the mess when he gets home from his meeting.”
I wasn’t about to argue with that. Robin and I escaped to my room.
“So,” she said, flopping on my bed and picking up my stuffed swan. For some strange reason, I’d packed it into my overnight bag and brought it to Dad’s with me. I couldn’t bear to throw it away. Despite what had gone down with Brian, I still loved swans. “I came over because I have something to tell you.”
I dropped down next to her. “Yeah?”
She gripped the swan’s long neck in her fist and jiggled its head back and forth. “Where did you get this thing?”
“Brian,” I said, and she flung it to the floor. I reached over the edge of the bed, my fingers groping around until they made contact with fuzzy fur. I snatched up my swan and stuffed it under my chin. “What did you want to tell me?”
She rolled over on her side, facing me. “Last night? After you left?”
“Uh huh,” I said slowly. I didn’t like the way her eyes were twinkling. It made me leery.
“Michael comes up to me and he goes, ‘So what’s the story with your friend?’”
I stared at her, momentarily speechless. She stared right back to me with this small, satisfied grin on her lips. “He did not,” I said.
“He did too.”
“Michael…the guy you introduced me to last night.”
“The very same.”
A rush of heat hit my face and I knew I must’ve been as red as that little blond boy. “Liar.”
“It’s true,” she said. Then, in an annoying sing-song voice: “He likes you.”
“Robin. He doesn’t even know me.”
“You’re blushing,” she sang. “Don’t you want to know what I told him?”
I bit my lip. “No.”
“I told him,” she said, yanking the swan from my hands and tossing it clear across the room, “that you just got out of a relationship with some douchebag who didn’t appreciate you, and that you liked meeting him and wouldn’t mind hanging out with him again sometime.”
Now my cheeks were burning for a different reason. Now I was mad. “Robin, I swear to God, if you really said that to him I am going to smother you with this pillow.”
“I didn’t tell him anything that wasn’t true. You should have seen your face last night, Taylor. You were practically drooling.”
I smacked her with the pillow. “How would you know? You were plastered.”
“Not at that point. You could feel the electricity between you guys when you met. You’re perfect together. He just got out of a bad relationship too, by the way.”
I sighed. She was such a romantic. “Robin, I’m not interested in going out with anyone right now. Even if he did ask me out—which I doubt would ever happen in this lifetime—I would say no. I’m done with boys. Period.”
She looked at me like I’d just told her I was giving up breathing. “Forever?”
“Until I’m out of high school, anyway.” Eighteen seemed like a good age to start dating again.
“Michael’s not just any boy, Taylor.”
I sat up, folding my legs underneath me. “Why don’t you go out with him then?”
My question seemed to fluster her. “Because…because I knew from the moment I met him that he was meant for you. Besides, he’s really nice. You know I’m partial to bad boys who use me and treat me like shit.”
“You are insane.”
“And you,” she said, poking me in the shoulder with one blue-painted nail, “are coming out with me again tonight. Let’s get you ready.”
****
“Here.” Robin handed me a stick of gum. “Chew on this instead of your nails. You look like a deranged gerbil.”
“Thanks,” I said, both for insult and the gum. As I popped it into my mouth, I looked around the house we’d entered a few minutes earlier. Another mini-mansion like the one from the night before, only this one was decorated more traditionally, with antique-looking furniture and ugly rugs. A white poodle with little pink bows on its ears lay in a dog bed near the door, yapping whenever the doorbell rang.
“Let’s go find Devon.” Robin dragged me across the house toward what turned out to be the dining room. Several people sat around a long table, flipping quarters into plastic cups of beer. We spotted Devon at the end, looking red-faced and well on his way to bombed. Apparently the party had been going on since this afternoon.
Robin went over to sit on Devon’s lap while I stood nearby, wishing for invisibility super powers. Already, I felt irritated for allowing myself to be talked into another one of these parties. I was irritated at my dad too, for being so permissive and trusting me enough to let me do whatever I wanted. Not that I’d wanted this, but Robin wasn’t one to take no for an answer.
After Devon missed another quarter toss, which resulted in him downing his third beer in ten minutes, Robin slid off his lap and helped herself to one of his full cups. “Be right back,” she told everyone. She caught my eye and mouthed the words “Don’t move” before vanishing into the mob. I stayed put, leaning against the wall next to a china cabinet filled with dishes that could probably fund my entire college education, and Emma’s, twice over.
Robin stayed gone for a long time. I was getting bored watching drunk people steadily lose coordination, so I ventured out to find her. I soon realized the improbability of this; the house was wall-to-wall packed. Through the noise I could still hear that poodle, barking its curly little head off in the foyer.
As I cleared a path into the kitchen, a familiar face floated into my peripheral vision. Not Robin’s, unfortunately. On my right, coming toward me but not looking at me, was none other than Buzz Cut Boy, the short dude who’d hit on me the night before. Lovely. Another round of blatant ogling was the last thing I needed at the moment. Like a stealth fox, I turned and changed direction before he noticed me.
In my haste to escape unseen, I inadvertently rammed my elbow into the person behind me. Somewhere above my head I heard a surprised oof, and I glanced up to apologize. Of course, I thought, heat creeping up my face. Out of all the hundreds of people at this party I could have injured with my wayward elbow, of course it had to be Michael.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, spinning around to face him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He put his hand over the spot where I’d jabbed him and grimaced. “I wasn’t using that lung anyway.”
I managed a weak smile. We were standing very close together, and tonight he smelled like fresh autumn air and—curiously—cinnamon. My knees turned to pudding. “Crowded in here,” I said.
He nodded, smiling, and I was caught off guard again by his looks. Normally I wasn’t one of those giddy, swooning type girls who lost their heads (and IQ points) in the presence of a cute guy, but for some reason Michael had that effect on me.
“Listen,” he said, glancing around the room and then back at me, “do you want to—.”
Before I found out what he wanted me to do, Robin suddenly popped up beside me. “There you are,” she said, hands on hips. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
It wasn’t clear who she meant, me or Michael, but it didn’t seem to matter.
“I got tired of waiting,” I said, assuming she meant me.
She gave me a slow once-over and then looked at Michael, a satisfied grin creeping over her face. “It seems my help is not needed here anyway.”
“She hit me,” Michael told her. “You didn’t tell me she was violent.”
“Only with boys she likes,” Robin said, wiggling her eyebrows. I stuck my tongue out at her, trying to cover up my mortification. “I’m going back to Devon,” she said. She leaned over to give me a one-armed hug, whispering in my ear, “Have fun.” Then she winked at me, nudged Michael’s shoulder with hers, and slipped back into the crowd. We both stared after her for a moment.
Just You Page 4
