Anything to Have You

by Paige Harbison

  Sorry, not sorry.

  I just hated them for not loosening up for once and having a little fun. I don’t mean to sound like the antagonist in a peer pressure video, but God.

  Nat had some fun with me on the dance floor, but it wasn’t long before she vanished from the gym. I watched in shock as Aiden followed her only moments later. I turned to Reed, who was dancing next to me.

  “Natalie just fucking left and then he followed her.” I screamed the words in his ear.

  He responded by pulling me close to him by my ass and looking down at me through his brown lashes. This close to his face, I could see a scar on the top of his sharp cheekbone.

  Reed slid his hand down my stomach, across my hip and then reached under my dress. He only gave one small flick of his finger, but he hit the bull’s-eye. I let out a sound without meaning to, and hid my face in his neck, dancing with him. He reached his hand down a little farther and took the flask from my garter belt.

  He didn’t let go of my back, and opened the top of the flask with his teeth. I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth and want to feel his lips on mine again. On me. Anywhere.

  He took a swig, then pulled me closer again and put it to my lips. He stared at me, his mouth a little open, like I was doing something really dirty. I pushed it away after a few seconds.

  I danced with him, feeling like I would do absolutely anything with him if he asked.

  But then they made the announcement that prom court was about to be revealed. I felt sick. And it wasn’t from the drinks. I was drinking, yes, but I was not even drunk yet. And I knew the difference.

  The rest was a blur. A blur as I saw Natalie and Aiden return. As I watched him lean in and say something to her. As the whole court’s names were announced, from Aiden...

  To fucking Natalie.

  The second they said her name, I wanted to run screaming from the room. But I couldn’t. This was my best friend. I was being jealous.

  Of her stealing my life.

  No big fucking deal.

  I clapped like everyone else as they took the stage together.

  I’m sure they’d have loved it if they’d realized that everyone was staring at me, not them. If they didn’t see what was wrong with this picture, everyone else certainly did.

  So I smiled and clapped, looking up at them like I just adored them and was so happy for them.

  I didn’t let anyone else see how I was privately noticing the overly intimate way they touched. The way the space between them was tight and not pushing them apart like it should be. They should be distant. They should even be dancing like stupid grandparents at a kid’s party, not looking quite so much like they hated that they had to be so close, but that they’d better do it for the sake of appearances....

  I felt Reed’s eyes on me.

  “Give me your shit,” I said to Bethany. Hers was stronger than mine.

  Without hesitating, she handed it over. I drank way too much in one go. But as I watched Natalie and Aiden leave the stage, it all became too much. If I had been a Victorian lady, I might have fainted, only to be roused by smelling salts, but instead I just got dizzy and puked. So freaking sexy.

  How on earth did Pukey McGee not win prom queen? I mean, damn.

  It was enough to lose the title of queen. It was enough to throw up on myself at my last and only senior prom ever. It was enough to hear my ex-boyfriend talking to me like I couldn’t hear him as I tried to recover outside, and for me to hear in his words and in his voice how truly, deeply sick of me he was. It was enough for the world around me to be spinning, and for me to see that once again I had gotten too drunk and embarrassed myself in a hundred different ways.

  I sat there, outside of the school where I had once been so popular and liked and where I had once been more than a sad story my peers would tell later on in life. “And then this one girl lost prom queen, and puked all over herself. It was hilarious,” I imagined them saying in freshman year of college when people still talked about high school events. And later in life, being a tragic beware tale for fathers to tell their daughters about the pretty girl who had lost it all because she drank too much and so desperately needed attention.

  But no. The worst part was that that was the flattering outcome. In all reality, they probably wouldn’t remember me at all.

  I listened to Aiden and Natalie talk to each other while I sat, crying and trying to breathe and not feel the full weight of the humiliation I knew I would carry for the rest of my life. It was different lately. With both of them. Each of them. If I had been this embarrassed and upset only a few weeks ago, either one of them would have been by my side trying to make me feel better. But now they were treating me like a badly behaved dog who couldn’t understand anything they said but who had made a huge mess.

  “Babe,” I tried to say to him, “please don’t be mad at me. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get so drunk. I didn’t even have that much.”

  It was a lame excuse, and we all knew it. But it was all I had.

  “Brooke, your bloodstream is probably about seventy percent alcohol right now, so save it. You did mean to get drunk. And you did have a lot, obviously, look at you.”

  “Aiden.” Natalie chimed in. “Seriously. Just give it a rest for now.”

  It was like Mom and Dad yelling at me. Really, Natalie? Um, a) when did she get so comfortable with him that she could say anything independently to him at all, b) when did he start listening to her, and c) what was with “for now”? Just yell at me later? That was rude.

  “Am I wrong, Nat?” he asked her. “No, I’m not.”

  Nat? Since when was he calling her Nat? Fury brewed in me.

  “I’m so fucking sorry, Aiden, that I ruined your special night. No, shut up. Do you think I wanted to do this? Do you think I wanted to lose out to my best friend, and then hurl onto my prom dress and into my own fucking hand?” Seriously. And he was going to yell at me more. “No! So stop yelling at me!”

  “No, you didn’t mean to, but you didn’t mean not to! You’re such an enormous pain in the ass. I can’t do this with you, I’m so sick of it. You can’t be a mess that Nat or I have to deal with.”

  You are kidding me. Oh, man. I’m such a fucking burden.

  I glared at Natalie, who had the nerve to have big puppy-dog eyes right now.

  “Do you agree with him?”

  “What do you want me to say, Brooke, you have to make a change—”

  Wrong answer. That was not the way to be a best friend. She was supposed to have my back, even if she told me later how she really felt.

  “Fuck you. Fuck you both. That’s...just...fuck you both. I am so sick of this. I keep turning a blind eye on you guys. You keep ganging up on me, and I’m sick of it! It’s like I’m this little idiot you both have the burden of having to care for.” I was yelling now. “And I’m not! I’m not into the same crap as you guys, and I might like to go to parties and whatever but you two are the exception to the rule. I could be a lot worse, so stop judging me constantly!” My eyes felt red from the anger in my heart. “I dunno if you guys are flirting, or bound together in this little Hate Brooke Club or what. But, Aiden, seriously, you think Natalie’s so fucking perfect. But everyone has shitty nights where they make a mistake or two. Natalie fucked Eric at Alexa’s party when she was blackout wasted. Not the smartest move, right? But I’m the idiot who can’t—”

  “That’s not true. I heard that rumor, too, but I would have thought you’d know it wasn’t true, Brooke.”

  What...? What did Eric just say?

  “You didn’t hook up with Natalie,” I clarified.

  “No. Absolutely not. I kissed her. That’s it.”

  “Then...”

  Who was it? But I knew who it was. Of course I knew.

  “Then you...” I wanted to c
ry. Or hit someone. Or jump off a bridge. “You fucking bitch.”

  Natalie was pregnant. With my boyfriend’s baby. And I already knew she’d keep it. They’d had sex. I’d been in the same house. No one had told me. She had told me it was Eric. She...how long would she have let this go? Lied always, and said the baby was Eric’s?

  “Br—”

  “Oh, no. You do not fucking speak.” I turned from her so she couldn’t see my quivering chin and reddening cheeks. “Reed, you mind giving us all a ride? Home, or wherever?”

  “’Course not.”

  “Eric, you’re coming with us. Mom and Dad over there have a lot of shit to figure out tonight.”

  I had a pretty ferocious second wind gusting in. I felt more sober than I ever had in my life.

  I took shotgun and let the others load in the back. For once, Reed didn’t make a joke. We exchanged a serious look before he put a hand on my thigh, and said, “Anywhere you want to go, Brookes.”

  Dread and comfort filled my bones and guts.

  “Wherever people are getting fucked up.”

  Everyone was silent in the backseat. They would go with me, I knew they would. They wouldn’t ask to be dropped anywhere else. Because they were good friends.

  I shut my eyes and cracked the window.

  “You feeling a little better at least?”

  “I’m not going to puke in your car, Reed.”

  “I’m not asking you that because I’m worried you’re going to ruin the interior on my pristine ’01 Cavalier. I’m asking if you’re feeling better, to see if you are feeling better.”

  My phone buzzed on my lap. Natalie.

  I declined the call, and she called back immediately. Rage lit my insides on fire. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

  I rolled the window down farther and hurled my phone out of the car.

  She could call all fucking night and I wouldn’t care.

  “Yeah. I am feeling better,” I said.

  * * *

  WE PULLED INTO a neighborhood I had never been in before, up to a small, one-story house with a covered driveway. We all unloaded out of the car, and a dog started barking like his tail was on fire on the other side of the chain-link fence that enclosed the side yard.

  “Don’t worry,” Reed said, “he’s friendly.”

  “Oh, that’s obvious.”

  He pushed open the gate and shouted, “Back!” at the huge black lab. He grabbed him by his collar and scratched his ears. The dog wagged his tail and Reed let him lick his face before saying, “All right, enough, enough.”

  I smiled a little. “What’s his name?”

  “Maverick. He’s my mom’s dog, but I’m watching him while I stay here.”

  “Where are we?”

  “My buddy Nick’s.”

  “You don’t live with your parents?”

  He scratched the top of his head and put his hands in his pockets before shaking his head. “I can’t say I expect you to have all that much fun here.”

  “I’m hardly expecting to. We are with you, after all.”

  I was so tired and emotionally drained that my tone didn’t even match up with the words. I could barely even be mean.

  We followed him inside. The living room was littered with people lying and sitting. The house was more well-lit than I wanted it to be. I needed a dark corner to crawl into, or a sea of people to drown in. Not a glaringly bright living room filled with a bunch of strangers. Well, actually, now that I looked at them, I could see that I had met some of them.

  Reed kicked one of the guys off the couch, saying, “I pay rent here, you don’t, get the fuck out of my way.” But in that charming, Reed-ish way that makes you not mad.

  My vision began to blur. I was dizzy, and a headache was kicking in. The guys sat up a little straighter when we three hot girls walked in. The lazy-looking chicks all touched their hair and fussed with their shirts when they saw Eric and Sam.

  People started passing around a joint, and Reed held it out for me.

  “Do you smoke?” he asked, his breath held. “Besides once at laser tag?”

  “Uh. Whatever.” I took it and inhaled.

  The smoke was thick and sharp and felt awful. I held my breath for a moment but then collapsed into deep coughs. I couldn’t breathe back in without it burning.

  If I’d thought I was spinning before, I was wrong. This was spinning. It didn’t kick in right away, but when it did, I realized that everyone’s voices sounded incredibly far away. I envied Reed, who was laughing and talking animatedly to everyone around, clearly not in the nightmarish land my mind was in. I felt like my heart might stop at any moment. At least if it did, then it wouldn’t ache like it did right now.

  Bethany and Alexa were laughing and flirting. Of course they were. Their worlds had not imploded. Eric was starting up a game of Madden with one of the other guys. Sam was calling a cab.

  I felt detached from my body and realized I was sitting with my legs wrapped up, mermaid-style, facing Reed and the back of the couch. I wasn’t in control as I lay a hand on Reed’s ribs, where I knew one of his bigger tattoos to be. He lifted his arm, and I fell horizontal onto his lap, facing him. He lifted me and tossed a pillow under my head.

  I looked up at him for a moment, the music around us deafening. He didn’t smile or anything. He just gazed at me. I was struck by a sudden urge to cry. I stopped myself but shut my eyes tight.

  He hopped back into the conversation, talking loudly and excitedly again. Arguing about something. Some actor on a TV show. “No, no, dude, are you kidding me, he’s the worst....”

  But he let me lay my head there, and during a couple moments where he wasn’t speaking, he even ran his fingers through my hair. I guess I had pulled it out of its ponytail. I didn’t even remember doing that. Hopefully it didn’t look like shit.

  I fell asleep at some point. When I woke up briefly, hours later, I was alone in a bed. I could hear everyone else, still out in the living room. I rolled over and fell back asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I ROSE FROM the dead the next morning at nine. I opened my mascaraed eyes to see Reed, lying on his stomach. I was down to my strapless and my thong, but nothing had happened, I knew that much.

  I crawled out of bed, moving the mattress as little as possible, and grabbed my dress from a chair in the corner. There was no way I’d walk out looking like this much of a Walk of Shamer. I went to Reed’s dresser as quietly as possible and took a T-shirt and a pair of running shorts. I put them on, and thought how short they must be on him if they were this short on me. He was probably only five-eleven or so, but still.

  One of Reed’s interesting quirks: he was one of the fastest runners in the district. I never knew how he managed it, considering that half of his diet was whiskey and the other half cigarettes. I looked at him, sleeping soundly, not being an asshole or bragging about his latest fucks. Despite myself, I cracked a tiny, fond smile. I then got my mental shit together and realized I was possibly going insane.

  This was Reed we were talking about. I had once been at a party with him, watched him go off with a girl and then come back because she was talking too much. Which I knew, because he told this loudly to everyone at the party when we watched him emerge so quickly.

  Of course, the girl had been White Girl Wasted, and was definitely annoying. Still, he was a rude dick.

  I scribbled a note and left it on his bedside table.

  I took a shirt and some shorts. They’re really fucking short for a dude. FYI. Thanks for last night. xx Brooke

  The doorknob was locked, and I walked out to find that Bethany, Alexa and Eric had left. Why hadn’t they texted me and asked if I wanted to leave when they did? I understood not knocking on the door, but—

  And then I remembered thr
owing my phone out the window.

  God. My mom was going to kill me.

  I found Reed’s phone on the coffee table and called a cab. I then sat on the front stoop waiting for it to arrive.

  * * *

  ONCE HOME, I took a shower, tamed my hair, did what I could with my gaunt and bloodless face and went downstairs. I had snuck by on my way in so as not to be seen wearing a boy’s clothes. My mom was at the kitchen table with her laptop.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said as I made my way to the fridge. Maybe that chicken fried rice was still in there from the other day. That’d be good.

  “Morning, Brooke.” She sounded mad.

  “Working on a Sunday?”

  “Yes. How was prom?”

  Ha.

  “Um. Pretty fucking awful.”

  No chicken fried rice. I pulled some chicken tenders from the freezer and turned on the oven.

  “Did you win?”

  “No.”

  “Who did?”

  “Oh, Natalie did.” I slammed the bag on the counter.

  She took off her glasses and looked at me for the first time. “Did she really?”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s wonderful for her. I’ll have to write her an email to congratulate her. I haven’t seen her in a while, how’s she doing?”

  “Applied to culinary school. She’ll probably get in. I don’t think it’s the same as getting into a regular school.”

  That meant that she and Aiden would be in the same zip code most likely. Great. They could be one happy little fucking family. Literally.

  I couldn’t bear to tell my mom about her and Aiden. On one hand, it would be satisfying to tell her that her beloved Natalie was as big a fuckup as I was, but if I told her, I knew she would tell me that this was a bigger deal than stealing my boyfriend. She would tell me to “get over the pettiness, Brooke Marie” and to be there for my friend, in what was about to be the biggest change of her life.