by Dahlia Adler
“Probably wasn’t the best place to fool around,” Liam conceded as if reading my thoughts. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close to whisper in my ear. “You are sexy as hell, though.”
The heat already spreading throughout my body intensified by about a million degrees. Oh, yeah, that’s what’s wrong with me. I turn into a crazy nympho whenever Liam’s around. I gently pulled out of his grasp; I’d already learned once tonight just how incapable I was of making decent decisions when he got too close.
“I need a drink,” I said firmly, heading for the stairs without even checking to make sure Liam was following.
He was, though, and he frowned disapprovingly when we returned to the bar and I asked for a couple of tequila shots instead of my usual colorful mixed drink. I’d never actually taken a tequila shot before, but I’d seen other people do them at parties and they always seem to have the instant-drunkenness effect I was dying for right now. I grabbed a salt shaker from the bar, tipped it onto my wrist the way I’d seen tons of others do, and licked it off before tossing back a shot.
Oh my God, it was disgusting. I almost gagged from the taste, and I turned away from the bartender so he wouldn’t see me.
Liam sighed and handed me a wedge of lime. “Here. This is kind of an important part of the whole tequila shot thing.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as I snatched the lime from his hand and sank my teeth into the sour fruit. What the hell gave him the right to be frustrated with me? He was the one who’d dragged me to this party at his stupid friend’s house. Sorry—mansion. He was the one who’d assured me we’d have privacy upstairs. He was the one who’d slept with stupid Shannah, who was probably going to ruin everything just because she could. I was so riled up that I grabbed another tequila shot and tossed it back, not bothering with the salt this time. The second one was a little better, so I called the bartender back and started to order a third when Liam yanked me away from the bar.
“Ally, that’s enough. Tequila’s not like a piña colada. You’re gonna feel like shit if you keep drinking it.”
“Thanks for the advice, professor,” I said dryly, wrenching my arm out of his grasp. “I thought you said we were going to have fun at this party.”
“We still can,” he said, taking my arm again, more gently this time. “You don’t have to get drunk to do that. Let’s just go hang out in the game room or something. Or we can just go home if you’d rather.”
“No, we can’t,” I reminded him, and we both turned at the same time, as if suddenly remembering Van’s existence. There was no sign of her dark head anywhere in the crowd, and my stomach started to clench in fear. Why the hell had I left her alone in this crazy madhouse? I should’ve come down the second I realized she was no longer with Josh. Then again, I’d been kind of busy with my own drama.
“She’s fine, Ally,” said Liam, taking a sip from the beer he’d gotten at the bar. “It’s just a party. We know a lot of these people. We may not like them, but we know them.”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better.” I broke away from him to begin my search for her, and I heard him sigh behind me as he followed.
She wasn’t in the hot tub or playing in the volleyball game, or floating in the pool. She wasn’t eating barbecue or frolicking in Josh’s little grotto of hoes. I called her cell for the third time as we walked into the house, but she didn’t pick up. She wasn’t in the media room or the game room or the kitchen.
Frantic now, I pulled Liam upstairs, and as we went from room to room, I had to force myself not to stop and stare at all the familiar faces locking lips or snorting coke in every nook and cranny of the house. When it became clear Van wasn’t on the second floor, we went back down to search the front of the house, and sure enough, there she was, sitting on a leather couch, talking to a slightly older woman I didn’t recognize.
Liam, however, appeared to know exactly who she was, because he muttered a curse as soon as we saw her and tried to duck away, only to have Van call out, “There he is! Liam, sweetie, come here!”
“Who is that?” I whispered to Liam from where I hid behind the living room wall.
“Holly Crenshaw, the fucking nosiest gossip blogger in the world who basically exists only because Shannah uses her to plant positive stories about her. Josh probably let Shannah call her just to fuck with me.” He pressed his beer into my hand, pasted a smile on his face, and walked into the living room to join Holly and Van while I made sure to remain out of sight.
“Holly!” he greeted her cheerfully, and I glanced around the corner of the wall just in time to watch him air-kiss her before sitting down beside Vanessa and wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Van cooed in a voice that made me sick to my stomach.
“It’s so hard not to get lost in this place,” said Liam in a voice so fake it made me even sicker.
“The house really is amazing,” Holly gushed. “I’d always heard Josh threw great parties, but I’d never been able to make it to one before.”
More like you’ve never been invited before, I thought, knowing Liam and probably Vanessa had the exact same thought running through their heads.
“Glad you were able to this time,” said Liam, bracing his hands on his thighs. “I hope Vanny here wasn’t boring you too much.”
Vanny? Gag me.
“Not at all,” said Holly. “We were just talking about whether or not there was any truth to the rumor that you two were having problems. A little birdie told me your relationship is just a publicity stunt to drum up attention for the new show—which we’re all super-excited about, by the way.”
Van laughed easily. “That’s ridiculous. Daylight Falls has gotten plenty of publicity on its own. We don’t need to make anything up to get people to watch.” To my horror, she covered Liam’s hand with her own, her fingers perilously close to areas they definitely shouldn’t have been. “Right, sweetie?”
“Exactly,” Liam agreed.
“So then, your friend Ally, who was seen here with you tonight—”
“Just a friend,” Liam assured her without so much as a flicker of a glance in my direction.
Ouch. Even though it was obviously the party line, the ease with which he said it was like a punch to the gut. Especially given that he knew I was standing there, watching and listening.
“My best friend,” Van added, the loyalty in her voice an interesting contrast with her current body language. “Trust me, there would never be anything going on between her and Liam.”
“I should hope not!” said Holly, and they all laughed. The effect of their combined laughter left my insides feeling twisted in knots. I knew I should’ve walked away then—that I probably should’ve walked away the second Liam put his beer in my hand and left me—but I kept watching with some sort of inexplicable fascination. I’d been so good at avoiding tabloid reports and gossip sites, but now that it was all happening in front of me, I couldn’t look away.
“So what’s up next for Daylight Falls’ hottest couple—offscreen and on, if my TV sources are correct?”
“Man, our pilot hasn’t even been picked up yet and you’re already looking for spoilers?” joked Liam.
“We’re just exploring our options for the summer right now,” said Van, sounding every bit both the girlfriend and the professional. “Can’t wait until upfronts to get moving, you know?”
“Speaking of upfronts, will you two be in New York for the announcements?”
I knew they were both planning on going, although I didn’t know exactly when. Van answered in the affirmative, as I knew she would, and then tacked on, “And Liam will be co-hosting the LuxeLens party on the eighteenth with Ryan Kehoe, which is basically going to be the hottest event of the week—if you don’t count the impromptu pajama party I’ll totally be throwing in my hotel room once Daylight Falls officially gets picked up!”
The three of them laughed, but I felt numb. The eighteenth. Upfronts were
in May; I knew that much. So Liam was going to be in New York on May 18.
May 18 was the date of my prom.
And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Van leaned over and laid a big wet one on Liam’s lips. The lips that had just been all over my… everything.
It hit me then that I just couldn’t do it anymore. The lying, the hiding, the pretending to be okay with it. I was done. Completely and totally done. Done with standing on the sidelines while they acted like the perfect couple, done with compromising on what I wanted in a boyfriend, and done with having a best friend who was even capable of kissing my boyfriend under any circumstances.
I was done with Liam. I was done with Van. And I was done with this party. Without a single word to the happy couple, I turned on my borrowed heel, walked outside, and called a cab to take me away from the world of absinthe-chugging role models and elitist sweethearts. I was going back to reality.
20
HALF AN HOUR LATER, I was feeling violently ill but had arrived safely home and changed into my favorite cupcake-print pajamas. “Who’s Next” played as loudly as I could stand it with my pounding headache. I was sitting up in bed, chugging glasses of water while I waited for the aspirin I’d popped a few minutes earlier to kick in, when my phone rang for what must’ve been the hundredth time since I’d left the party. I should’ve known Liam would freak out at my absence, but I hadn’t really thought that part through when I’d stormed out of Josh’s house. As soon as I saw his face on my caller ID display, I knew I couldn’t deal with him yet. I pressed Ignore and went back to groaning with my head up against the cool wall behind my bed.
A few minutes later, the aspirin had started to take effect and I grudgingly acknowledged to myself that it wasn’t fair to keep ignoring his calls. I’d panicked when I couldn’t find Vanessa, and she’d known plenty of people there. I could only imagine how worried he was when he couldn’t find me…now that he remembered I existed.
“I’m fine,” I informed him when I picked up. “You can stop calling.”
“Where are you?”
“Home. I gotta go.”
“Wait, Ally, is everything okay? Is your dad okay?”
Ugh, of course he’d be all nice and caring now. Remember, Ally, he’s not really yours. If he was, he’d be taking you to prom. If he was, he would not leave you at a party to converse with some trashy blogger while he pretends to be banging your best friend. He’s Vanessa’s, and Jade’s, and Holly’s, but he is definitely not yours. “My dad’s fine. I’m fine. I need to go. Enjoy the party.”
“I don’t understand. You’re home? How’d you get home?”
“I took a cab.”
“But why? I still don’t understand—”
“No, you really don’t,” I bit out, rubbing my throbbing temple with my free hand. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend I’m okay with the fact that you make out with my best friend in public. I can’t pretend I’m okay with the fact that I’ve been working up the nerve to try to convince you to come to my prom with me for weeks and you’re going to be hosting some party on the other side of the country instead.”
“Your…what? Ally, I didn’t even—”
“Look,” I cut him off, because I knew if I didn’t get it out now, I’d just be back in the same place the next night and the next week and the next month. “I really like you when you’re just Liam, my boyfriend, but when you’re Liam Holloway, you’re…” I stopped myself before I could say “kind of a tool.” The truth was, Liam was a decent guy, but he was in an indecent profession, and I’d spent my entire friendship with Van trying to convince myself that the two were not inseparable. After watching her kiss Liam tonight for some stupid gossip blogger, I was officially un-convince-able. “It’s just not working,” I said finally.
“You’re breaking up with me?”
He sounded both surprised and sad, and I steeled myself not to crumble. “You’ll be fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “You have another girlfriend right there.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Yeah, well, neither is being left at the party so you can make out with Vanessa for some stupid blogger. The woman’s entire job is to write shit on the Internet, Liam. Who the fuck cares what she thinks?”
Huh. Even I hadn’t realized quite how angry I was until the profanity came spewing forth, undoubtedly assisted by the two tequila shots. But there it was. All the backyard picnics and whispering French nothings in the world couldn’t make up for the fact that Liam couldn’t and wouldn’t give me the normalcy I so desperately needed. Yes, I had agreed to the stupid publicity plan, but what did I know? He and Van were trained for this sort of thing; I was just a stupid eighteen-year-old girl who’d thought wanting the best for her boyfriend and best friend would be enough.
Spoiler alert: It wasn’t.
“Ally, come on, don’t do this. I’m sorry I left you at the party, but I had—”
“You will always have to,” I pointed out, cutting him off. “It’s your job. And maybe it’s not fair that I’m doing this after I said I’d be okay with everything, but I didn’t know how much it would suck. How much it would fucking hurt.”
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Liam said softly. “Just tell me what I can do.”
I thought for a minute before coming up with a response, even though I knew I had no shot at getting what I wanted. “Cancel on the party and go to prom with me instead.”
“Even if I canceled on the party, you know I wouldn’t be able to—”
“Just forget it, okay?” I couldn’t let him finish, let him say that he couldn’t be seen in public with me. It was bad enough that I knew I wasn’t worthy in the rest of the world’s eyes; I couldn’t listen to him say it, too. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault, and I never even told you about prom or that I wanted to go. I just couldn’t handle hearing you say no, and I can’t hear you say it now.” I heard some laughing in the background, and then a girl’s voice calling Liam’s name. My stomach clenched, and I had to remind myself that he wasn’t mine to be possessive over anymore. “You should go,” I told him.
“Ally, you can’t just—”
“Liam, you and I both know this isn’t working, isn’t going to work. Hollywood is your life, not mine. And the Jades and Hollys and even the Vanessas of it might run your life, but I’m done giving other people this much say in mine. This is your career and I get that, but it’s just a different world and it’s one I’m not prepared to live in. I thought I could, but I can’t. Now please, just go, before this gets any harder.” As if it could; I already had tears streaming down my face as I said the words.
He was quiet for a minute, and then he said, “Yeah, I guess I should. I really am sorry, Ally. I did the best I could.”
I didn’t know if that was true, but I needed to get off the phone before I started crying for real. “Bon nuit, Liam,” I managed, and then I hung up.
* * * * *
I barely slept that night, and as I spent the next day powering through studying for my Calculus AP, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d made a really stupid mistake. Normally I’d have called Van in such a situation, but I had no idea how to even begin talking to her about this. I knew it wasn’t fair to blame her for anything, but I couldn’t help it. How had I let her suck me into this world after years of making sure I never strayed from the fringes? How had I gotten so desperate for money that I’d forgotten how much I hated all things Hollywood?
Of course, I knew the answer to that last question, and the irony was that I let stupid Hollywood crap take over my life specifically so that I could move to the very city I’d been planning my escape to for years.
For what it was worth, between the assistant job, the cash for tutoring, and the stuff Van and Liam had been giving me for months to sell on eBay, I’d made enough money to cover a dorm and textbooks for the first year. If I got a decent-paying summer job, my loans for the first semester would be totally doable, and
if I did as well on this round of APs as I had on last year’s, I’d end up with enough credits to graduate in three years. The unspoken truth in the Duncan house was that once I got that far, my father’s life insurance would help take care of the rest, but I hated to think about that, for obvious reasons. I would’ve gladly gone to community college if it meant keeping my father alive, but, of course, that wasn’t exactly in my control.
I both looked and felt like crap when I returned to school on Monday, which did not escape Nate’s attention.
“Hit a rave this weekend, Duncan?” he asked as soon as I walked into French.
“Shut up,” I muttered, in no mood to deal with him. For someone who said he liked me, he sure seemed to take pleasure in my misery.
“No, seriously, is everything okay?” he asked. “Your dad’s still doing well, right?”
“Nothing new to report on that front.” I fished around in my bag for some lip balm.
“Anything to report on any other front?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as we walked over to our seats.
“Actually, yes.” I dropped into my seat with a thump. “I’m in the market for a prom date.”
He snorted. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to get him to come.”
Asshole. He was right, obviously, but suddenly I didn’t feel like telling him just how much harder I’d made it by breaking up with him. “Shut up, Nate.”
“Sorry, sorry. And yes, I’d be honored to go with you.”
I glanced over at him. “You know I didn’t actually ask you, right?”
“As the French say, touché. Fine, then—I’m asking you. Alexandra Duncan, will you go to prom with me?”
I knew I’d brought it up, but hearing myself be officially asked felt strange. And it wasn’t just because I’d been counting on going with Liam. It was because it was prom, and although Nate didn’t know it, I was single, just as he was. That meant the normal “prom” things that would’ve been off the table weren’t necessarily so…if I chose to tell Nate that Liam and I were no longer together.
