Life After Theft

by Aprilynne Pike

  “It’s not for warmth,” Kimberlee protested when I pointed that out. “It’s decor.”

  At least she let me wear my old scuffed Doc Martens. “They’re practically vintage,” she said, using the same word that hadn’t been good enough for my jeans and tees this morning.

  I didn’t care what she called them as long as she let me wear them.

  “Okay,” Kimberlee said after scrutinizing me from head to toe. “Let’s go.” She paused. “Unless you want to do some guy-liner—just a little?”

  My eyes widened. Oh hell no.

  “I didn’t think so,” she said, heading toward the door. “Come on, then; I’ll show you the shortcut.”

  This was the hard part. “Uh, Kimberlee?”

  “Yeah,” she said distractedly.

  “Can I go by myself?”

  She paused and turned to look at me. “Yourself?”

  I nodded.

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “I’d just be more comfortable.”

  She still stared at me.

  I was going to have to tell her. “I’m meeting Sera there.” Sort of.

  Kimberlee stiffened. “She doesn’t go to the parties.”

  “Well, she’s coming to this one. Listen,” I said before Kimberlee could speak. “I know you don’t like her. So I think we’d both be better off if you just didn’t hang around when I’m with her.”

  She laughed, a short, condescending bark. “You think that’s going to happen very often?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But it’s going to happen tonight and I want a little privacy.”

  She said nothing.

  “Kim,” I said, as gently as I could.

  “Kimberlee,” she corrected, but she sounded more hurt than mad.

  “I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a night on my own.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled. “Go.” She plopped down on my bed.

  “Kimberlee?” I said tentatively. “You want me to . . . turn on the TV for you or something?”

  “Just go,” she said, turning away.

  I opened my mouth to explain further, but after the hell she’d put me through, I decided I should take the opportunity to leave and hope she wouldn’t change her mind. I put my hand on the door and was about to turn the knob when Kimberlee said, very softly, “Wait.”

  I looked over at her and she seemed a little surprised that she had spoken at all. “What?” I said, not bothering to hide my exasperation.

  She lowered her eyebrows for a second then said, “Be careful.”

  “Yes, Mom,” I muttered under my breath.

  “And stay away from Langdon,” she added in a rush.

  “Langdon?” I asked, my hand tightening on the doorknob. I still hadn’t told her it was Langdon who’d actually invited me. “I thought you two were tight.”

  “We were,” Kimberlee said, making me think there was much more to this story. “That’s how I know he’s a mean drunk.” The concern vanished from her face as she flipped her hair back. “Just stay out of his way.”

  I wasn’t totally confident Kimberlee hadn’t dressed me up like a freak for revenge, so when I arrived at the bonfire I slipped very slowly out of my car and walked with my shoulders hunched forward. But to my surprise, most of the guys looked pretty much like clones of me—a few even had sparkles on their belts. By the time someone dropped a big red plastic cup of beer into my hand, I was feeling pretty confident. I looked down at the foamy amber liquid that almost reached the brim of my very large cup, and sniffed it tentatively.

  Now, it’s not that I hadn’t had alcohol before. I always got some champagne at Christmas and an occasional glass of wine at dinner. But I’d never had beer. Back in Phoenix, my friends and I had been planning a big party once school was out, so it was in my future, but none of us had gotten brave enough to acquire any on our own yet.

  It didn’t smell much like wine. But everyone here was gulping it down like it was liquid crack, so it couldn’t be that bad. Right?

  Right.

  I took a deep breath and a big mouthful. Bleh. Swallow, just swallow. I finally got it down and looked around at all the partiers with new eyes. What the hell are they thinking? This is disgusting. Maybe the second taste wouldn’t be so bad; I knew what to expect now and I hadn’t liked wine on the first taste, either. I sipped this time instead of gulping. Hmmm, not much better. But maybe a little. I sipped again. It needed something. Sugar? I tried a bit more. Salt, I decided, but doubted I’d find any of that here. I’d have to just sip and walk and sip and walk while waiting for Sera to show.

  As I walked around I saw familiar faces everywhere. In hindsight, maybe I should have brought a big duffel of bags from Kimberlee’s klepto-cave. I could have handed twenty bags back to people who were too drunk to remember who gave it to them the next day.

  Though somehow I couldn’t see Kimberlee being very happy about that plan. Oh well.

  I eventually finished my beer and managed to grab some more fresh from the keg. I took a sip and made a very important note to myself—beer is better cold. Who had handed me a warm beer in the first place? I couldn’t remember. But cold was much better.

  Better is relative, of course; it was still gross.

  “Heeey, man,” someone slurred as a meaty arm found its way across my shoulders.

  I looked up into Langdon’s grinning face. I’d almost forgotten about him.

  “I was hoping you’d come,” he said.

  “Hey . . . Lang,” I said, smiling back.

  He lifted his cup toward me, and I touched the side of my cup to his. Cheers.

  “That your first?” Langdon asked.

  “Second.”

  “We gotta fix that,” Langdon said with a laugh, herding me off. Away from the direction of the keg. I resisted a little, not completely sure I wanted to leave the safety of the masses. And, well, I wanted to watch for Sera. But Langdon’s arm was really heavy.

  Luckily, we didn’t leave the crowd, just kinda moved to the edge.

  “You got ’em?” Langdon said to a guy who was handing out shots from a box where a bunch of bottles were semi-concealed.

  “Course,” the guy muttered, and lifted out a cooler full of little plastic containers of Jell-O.

  Well, not Jell-O per se. Jell-O shots in little condiment cups. I knew what they were, though I’d never actually had one before. I looked down at my beer and then over at the colorful display of Jell-O shooters. I wasn’t the world’s biggest fan of Jell-O, but anything was better than the beer.

  I spent the next hour listening to Langdon and his friends make lame jokes while nursing my beer till the taste got to be too much, and switching to the Jell-O shots—Langdon always had a new one ready for me—to chase the taste away. Then, because drinking beer seemed like the “right” thing to do at a kegger, I’d grimace and start on it again. After going back and forth a few times, the beer didn’t taste so bad. In fact, it was starting to taste pretty good. And Langdon’s jokes were even getting funny.

  I lost track of the time and jumped when Sera walked up beside me and touched my arm. “He-e-e-e-y-y-y-y,” I slurred.

  Those gorgeous green eyes looked up at me, then rolled. “You’re so toasted.”

  Damn. “Yeah,” I said with a sloppy grin. “But that’s okay, ’cause you can have this.” I handed her the rest of my beer.

  “Thanks,” she said dryly, and poured it on the ground.

  “You want some Jell-O?”

  “That’s . . . okay,” she said. Then she looked up at Langdon and I swear, the temperature dropped. “Langdon, I wouldn’t say it’s a pleasure to see you, but hello.”

  Smooth.

  Landon’s ego seemed to deflate for a second, but he recovered quickly. “Sera, my favorite cheerleader. Come to join the festivities for once?”

  “I think you know better than to even ask,” Sera said coolly. She grabbed a shooter, jiggling it slightly. “Jell-O shots? Really? That’s what you’ve moved on to?”<
br />
  “Dude, they’re awesome,” I said.

  “Yeah,” she said, holding the little cup between two fingers for a second before returning it to the table and turning her back to Langdon. “How many of these have you had?”

  How many had I had? I tried to count, but suddenly I wasn’t quite sure. Four? Five? Twenty-eight? I had no freakin’ clue.

  “That’s what I thought,” she replied to my silence. “You ready to go?”

  “Go? Where?”

  “You’re wasted. I should take you home.”

  “No,” I said, trying to sound suave. “I should take you home.” And I tapped my finger on the tip of her nose. Or I meant to. I’m just glad I didn’t poke her in the eye.

  She smiled condescendingly. “Yeah, I don’t think tonight’s a good night for that. Come on.”

  “Hey, he doesn’t want to leave.” I felt that heavy arm around my shoulders again. “He wants to party. Don’t you, bro?”

  “Shut the hell up, Langdon,” Sera snapped. “Jeff, where are your keys?”

  “Not a chance, Barbie,” Langdon said, and suddenly he didn’t look quite so drunk anymore. Or so happy. “You think you can just waltz in here and ruin our fun? Crawl back under your rock.”

  That edge in his voice brought Kimberlee’s words back into my brain with a jolt. Mean drunk. I was seeing it now.

  “You know, when I heard you’d invited Jeff, I hoped it was just a casual invite—that you’d outgrown this stupidity. But we both know where this is going and I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave him here with you.”

  “And you think I’m just going to step aside?” Langdon asked, straightening so he towered over her.

  Sera didn’t even flinch. “See this?” she said, holding up something black and . . . sparkly? Oh, cell phone! Shiny. “I’m one button from calling Khail if you don’t let go of Jeff right this second. I am not taking any of your shit tonight.”

  I didn’t know why that was such a threat, but after a second Langdon’s arm slid off my shoulders. He looked mad as hell, but he didn’t try to stop Sera as she grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

  I turned and waved good-bye, but Langdon just glared at me with a level of hatred that didn’t match the grinning guy who’d been handing me shooters for the last hour. And I was way too drunk for any of it to make sense.

  “Gimme your keys,” Sera said as she dragged me out to the dusty lot where all the cars were parked. “I caught a ride with Brynley and she won’t want to leave yet.”

  “Oh no,” I said, covering my pocket with my hand. “No one drives Halle but me.”

  She looked at me for a long moment before she smiled and said, “Well, maybe I can change your mind.”

  I liked the sound of that.

  She curled her fingers through mine and pulled me closer. “You like me, don’t you, Jeff?”

  “Course.”

  “You don’t mind if I do this, do you?” She slid her hand along the sides of my hips.

  “Nooo . . .” Oh, please don’t let this end.

  “You could put your arms around me.”

  I was so in heaven. My hands worked their way around her waist and went right to her ass. Oh yeah.

  “Ahem.”

  I looked at her with what I hoped was a convincing blank look.

  “A little higher, or you can walk home,” she said with a tight grin.

  I moved my hands up a few inches.

  “Much better.”

  Her hand was doing something on my hip, but I was too busy trying to look her in the eye. If only she’d stay in one place! “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first time I saw you.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh.” If I didn’t take this chance it might not come around again. I moved my face closer and she didn’t pull away. I was almost there and let my eyes start to slide shut when she stepped back and something sparkly and loud jangled in front of my face.

  Hey, keys!

  Oh—my keys.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  I am such a loser.

  Eleven

  I DIDN’T SAY ANOTHER WORD until we were both safely inside my car. “You sure you know how to drive a stick?” I asked as she pushed in the clutch and turned the key.

  She barely glanced at me as she smoothly eased the car out of its parking spot. “I think I can handle it,” she said, accelerating and shifting gracefully from first right to third. Without taking her eyes from the road she changed the radio station, turned down the bass, and flicked off her brights as an oncoming car approached—like she knew every single button in my car.

  “You’ve done this before,” I said, not managing to form a more coherent sentence.

  She laughed. “My dad has one of these. I drive it all the time.”

  So much for my special car.

  As we wound around curves on the drive back to Santa Monica, I started to feel a little sick. I’m not sure now how I had expected to get home. I guess I just didn’t plan on having more than one beer. It really was a good thing Sera came to rescue me.

  I tilted my seat back and turned my head just enough to stare at her. The streetlights slanted across her face as she drove, giving her the look of being not quite real. Or maybe more than real. She had gone over and above for me tonight. Either she actually liked me or was amazingly nice. Maybe some of both.

  We went around a few more curves and I realized that my stomach was starting to really get angry with me. I must have started to look sick because soon Sera stopped the car in front of some kind of park. “Come on,” she said, opening her door and walking toward a small playground.

  I felt a lot better in the cool air.

  We walked over to the swings and while Sera swung high, I kinda pretended to swing low. The initial relief from the fresh air was slowly yielding to simmering nausea. After about ten minutes, I had to grind my feet into the sand to keep the swing from moving at all. Every motion made me feel worse.

  Sera looked down at me then flew off her swing and landed soundlessly what looked like a hundred feet away.

  “Wow,” I said, before clapping a hand over my mouth.

  “Come on,” Sera said, tugging on my arm. “You’ll feel better after you hurl and the kids who play here will feel better if you don’t do so all over their swings.”

  I couldn’t open my mouth to argue.

  She pulled me over to a large garbage barrel and was kind enough to step quite a ways away as I puked up what felt like an ocean of beer.

  I definitely did not drink that much.

  Or eat that much Jell-O . . .

  . . . did I?

  When I finally stood up straight again, my physical relief gave way to embarrassment. Extreme embarrassment. Here I was, puking my guts out in front of one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever met. All I needed now was for Kimberlee to pop up and start pointing and laughing.

  Finally I turned to Sera. “Sorry about that,” I mumbled.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “The real test will be if you go get plastered again the next time Langdon sponsors a party.”

  I grimaced and shook my head back and forth. “No thank you.”

  Sera dug in her purse for a few seconds. “Here,” she said, offering a packet of tissues and a travel-sized bottle of Listerine mouthwash. “I packed this for you earlier.”

  I stared at them for a long time, feeling suddenly very sober. “You knew I was going to be an idiot,” I muttered.

  “Well, I didn’t know. I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But pretty much everybody falls for the lure of being Langdon’s special guest,” she said, then shrugged. “I did.”

  “Really?”

  She smiled tightly and nodded. “End of football season my freshman year—the party to celebrate the last game.” She turned and started walking up a grassy hill. I swished and spit some of the sharp mouthwash before foll
owing her. I stayed a few paces behind her as she walked up the hill, swishing all the way. By the time we reached the top, the bottle was empty, my mouth felt clean, and my stomach was getting back to normal. The air was fresh and crisp again and I felt a second chance coming on.

  “Langdon invited me personally. I felt really cool. He kept giving me shots of Jägermeister till I lost count. And I know I kept going a long time after that.” She reached the top of the hill and sat on the grass.

  “Jägermeister?”

  “Yeeahhh, trust me, Jell-O shots are much more . . . gentle. But I was a freshman and I wanted to be cool, so I choked it down till it started tasting better.”

  That sounds familiar. I sat down beside her, just close enough that our thighs touched. “So you got drunk and puked everywhere, too?”

  She coughed out a sharp laugh. “I wish it were that simple. Yes, I got drunk, and yes, I eventually puked all over. But Khail had found out Langdon’s plan from someone. They were going to get me plastered enough that they could make a fool of me in front of everyone. I imagine pictures would have been involved.”

  “What happened?” I whispered, almost afraid to hear.

  But she smiled. “Khail rescued me.”

  “Like you rescued me?” I said with a grin.

  “No, I just intervened tonight. Khail seriously had to rescue me. By the time he found me it was obvious I was in a really bad place. He dragged me away and put me in his car. I was half passed-out but they told me later he . . . he messed Langdon up pretty good. Broke his nose, loosened a tooth or two. He had two black eyes when he came to school on Monday.”

  “Sounds like he deserved it.”

  “Oh, he did,” she said seriously. “But if Langdon hadn’t been too scared to say anything, he could have made some real trouble for Khail. That’s the kind of stuff no one wants on their record. My brother risked a lot for me when he taught Langdon a lesson.”

  I nodded somberly. “But it turned out okay.”

  “It did. Langdon has hardly said a word to me since and . . .” She hesitated and then seemed to change her mind. “Let’s just say everyone got what they deserved.”