by Cameron Lund
“I’m going to find him,” I say, and turn on my heel, leaving them to deal with the oven.
Jason Ryder and Susie Palmer are pressed up against the wall in the back hallway, practically eating each other. I step around them to walk the rest of the way down the hall and then I’m at a screen door, the one that leads out to the porch. The night air is warm, the hum of crickets loud even over the music from the party.
I start to go outside, but then I freeze when I see Andrew. Because he isn’t alone.
He’s with Cecilia.
I close the screen, hiding myself behind the wall so I can watch them. She’s sitting on the porch railing and Andrew is in front of her, standing so their faces are level. I think at first that they might kiss, but then I realize they’re speaking, their voices soft. I have to strain to hear them.
“So you’re just gonna pretend it didn’t happen?” Cecilia sets her beer down on the railing next to her and flicks the metal tab on the top of it back and forth. “You’ve barely even looked at me all night.”
He steps away and reaches a hand up to rub his neck. “I’m sorry. Danielle and I . . .”
“Yeah, I know,” she snaps. “You’re going to prom with her. So you’re just done with me forever?”
“I thought it didn’t mean anything,” he says. “You said that. I wouldn’t have—”
“I said that because I knew it’s what you wanted me to say. God, Andrew, you just don’t get it.”
“Why would you lie about that? I didn’t think it was—”
“I lied because I had to!” Her voice is raised now, sharp and strained. She runs a hand through her mass of blond curls, big and unruly from the humidity. “I knew you didn’t like me. I knew you just wanted to get with me because you could, and I wanted to date you, but that’s desperate, right? Feelings are such a turn-off.” She lets out a harsh laugh. “So I took the parts of you I could get. You never would have gone for me if you’d known I liked you. That ruins it. Everyone knows you’re a player.”
“I’m not a player,” Andrew says, and I want to shake him. She’s telling him what I’ve been trying to tell him all along. He raises his beer to take a sip, but then shakes his head and sets it down on the railing, running his hand over his face.
“Oh, come on, Andrew!” I wonder how much she’s had to drink, if she would have been brave enough to say these things to him sober. She picks her beer up off the railing and clutches it so hard between her fingers the can dents. Is she going to drink it or throw it in his face? “You think you’re such a good guy, but good guys don’t hook up with a girl and then move on the second they see someone better.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice catching. “I just didn’t think . . . I mean, I thought we were on the same page. I wouldn’t have been so . . .” He trails off, struggling with his words. “I thought you knew.”
“It’s not my job to be the girl you hook up with while you’re waiting for the one. I’m not here to entertain you until you find someone else.”
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “Really. I didn’t think about it that way.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she says. “I should have listened to Susie. She kept telling me not to waste my time. But I thought maybe I could change you; that maybe I was special. Stupid, right?”
“Don’t call yourself stupid when I’m the asshole,” he says. The corner of her mouth twitches, like she’s trying not to smile.
“You’re a huge asshole,” she says. But she raises her beer toward him and he clinks his can with hers, and I know she’s forgiven him. Why is it so easy to forgive the people we have feelings for? I feel bad suddenly for the things I’ve said about Cecilia, the way I’ve joked about her with Andrew. I’m no better than she is.
“We’re okay?” Andrew asks.
She smiles, tilting her head at him in a way that’s clearly flirtatious—like even after all this, she’s hoping deep down somewhere she still has a chance. Even if she knows better.
“You’re getting off easy,” she says. “If you had slept with me and then pulled this, I’d pour my beer on you.”
“We could always remedy that,” he says, grinning.
Her words catch me off guard. If you had slept with me—if, like it’s never happened. But that’s impossible. They were hooking up for months, weren’t they?
“Don’t test me.” She holds the beer up over his head, laughing, and he ducks out of the way, his smile matching hers.
“Do it. I’ll get you another one. Promise.” He looks up at her and then shuts his eyes, scrunching his nose in anticipation. Without hesitation, she pours the beer over his head, shrieking like she can feel the cold liquid down the back of her neck instead of his.
He shakes his head, beer sprinkling off his hair and onto her, and she screams and jumps off the railing onto the deck to get away. She’s coming straight at me, so I run back into the house, not wanting either of them to find me spying. I can hear them both laughing still as I run back through the hallway, like they’re the best of friends.
Danielle won’t let Andrew get away with things like this. She’s stronger than Cecilia. That’s her superpower—always being able to say what she means to say when she means to say it. But even Danielle isn’t completely fearless—she still hangs out with Ryder and flirts with Chase, like everything between them is completely okay. In that way, she’s just like Cecilia, just like most girls: flirting because it’s easier to flirt and forgive than to get mad, because as girls we’ve been trained our whole lives to give boys what they want, to say “sorry” when what we really want to say is “fuck you.”
I can smell the nachos from the kitchen—burnt cheese, warm and smoky. But nobody is eating them. A crowd is gathering in the den, where something more interesting seems to be happening. And then I see it: Danielle holding an empty bottle of tequila, a wicked smile on her face.
“Who wants to play spin the bottle?” She shakes the bottle back and forth, taunting us.
“Come on,” Ava says. “We’re not in eighth grade anymore. We don’t need a game to make out with each other.” She tugs at her tank top, pulling it down so her boobs are dangerously close to making an appearance.
“Maybe you don’t need a game to help you make out with someone, but not all of us are so . . . talented.” Danielle raises an eyebrow and turns away from Ava, setting the bottle down on the floor. “Everyone get in here!”
Jason Ryder bounds down the stairs and into the room, whooping. “Fuck yeah!” There’s a beer in his hand and a bit of it spills onto the floor. I see Susie creep down the stairs behind him. A trail of guys comes in from the garage, leaving their game of beer pong abandoned. Sophie Piznarski and Molly Moye, who have been whispering to each other in the corner, both nod their heads and come forward to join. I hear a noise behind me and see that Cecilia and Andrew have emerged from the back porch. His hair is dripping beer.
This is my nightmare. There isn’t anyone in school I want to kiss. And I certainly don’t want to watch as the bottle spins from Andrew to any of the girls he’s hooked up with. Which would be worse? Cecilia? Sophie? Danielle?
Hannah comes up behind me and slings an arm over my shoulder.
“This is your favorite game, right?” She pulls away and sticks her tongue out to show she’s kidding. She must have stopped drinking, because she seems a lot more collected than the last time I saw her, her cheeks less flushed. Or maybe we’ve just switched places. Maybe now I’m the drunk one. I try to laugh along with her, but mostly I just feel queasy. The room blurs slightly and I shake my head, trying to clear the tequila from my system.
“I don’t think I’m going to play,” I say, trying to back out of the circle.
“You’re here,” Andrew says, coming up next to me. His arm brushes against mine, and it’s wet from when Cecilia dumped her beer on him. I shift slightly so we’re not touch
ing. “I’ve been looking for you.” He’s smiling and it kills me because I know it’s a lie. Was he looking for me when Danielle was draped over him in the living room? When Cecilia was flirting with him out on the porch? It’s a line he’s always used on girls at parties, and now he’s using it on me. I turn my head away and don’t respond to him.
“Hey, Chase, come play!” Danielle shouts. “Brosner, get your ass in here!” And because she’s ordered it, Chase appears, ambling over to us, his hands full of nachos. Why does she want him to play?
Danielle takes a seat and everyone follows her lead, spreading out into a big circle on the wood floor. Somehow I find myself sitting too.
“Ava! You’re the pro.” She hands the bottle to Ava, who sets it down gently in the middle of the circle.
“Alcohol please,” Ava says, holding her empty palm out. Chase hands her another bottle of tequila, this one only halfway gone, and she takes a showy sip, smacking her lips and shaking her head, shuddering as she swallows. “Thanks, Chase.” She pats him gently on the cheek, letting her fingers stay there for just a little too long. Then she reaches out and gives the bottle a spin. We all watch it, moving our heads around and around, back and forth, the possibilities and combinations running through our minds.
It lands on Jason Ryder. Everyone cheers and Ryder raises an arm up to fist pump, spilling a little beer on his shirt in the process. Next to him, Susie’s forehead creases a little, but the smile stays on her face. We all know that the rules of high school mean she can’t act like she cares.
“Aw, no fun,” Ava says, pouting. “We’ve already made out.”
But she leans forward and kisses him anyway. Ryder pulls away with a smack, and then reaches a hand up to squeeze her boob. Everyone cheers, and I force a laugh, even though I don’t think it’s funny, even though I see the frown on Ava’s face for a fraction of a second. I wonder if the other girls in the circle know it’s wrong too, if they’re all forcing laughs because the guys are laughing, if they’re cheering because it’s Ava and that makes it okay.
And then Ava is laughing too.
“Not in front of everyone, Ryder,” she says, sitting back down on her side of the circle. “Behave.”
Now it’s Ryder’s turn. The bottle is spinning, spinning, spinning, and I pray it won’t land on me. The thought of Jason Ryder’s tongue in my mouth makes me want to vomit.
The bottle stops on Chase.
Everyone goes wild.
“No fucking way!” Ryder says. “Guys don’t have to kiss each other.” He motions to Susie. “Susie is right here. I’ll kiss her.”
“Jason,” Danielle says, reaching into the circle and picking up the bottle, like by holding it she has the power to speak. “My house. My rules. And I say you have to kiss Chase.”
I see the twinkle in her eye. She’s loving this. This is her payback to Ryder for what he just did to Ava and for what he said to Danielle in the senior lounge. It’s her payback to Chase for a lot more. “Come on, boys, we don’t have all night.” She smirks and taps the bottle against her open palm. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“This game is fucking stupid,” Ryder says. “I don’t need a game to get with girls.” He stands up. “I’m getting another beer.”
“Does that mean you’re out, Jason?” Danielle asks, her voice saccharine sweet. He walks into the kitchen and raises a hand in the air, flipping her off without turning around. “So touchy,” she says.
“Do I get to spin?” Chase holds his palm out to Danielle. She looks at him for a moment, sighs, and then places the bottle into his open palm.
“Use it for good, Brosner.”
“I’ll just kiss you instead.” He turns the bottle so it points in her direction. “You’re the one I want it to land on.”
“Those aren’t the rules.” She turns the bottle back at him. “Spin.”
“Dani,” he says, his voice soft.
“Spin.”
He sighs and reaches forward, giving the bottle a spin. It lands on Danielle, of course. Because that’s the way things work for Chase. She rolls her eyes and leans over the circle toward him.
“All right, Brosner, fair is fair. Lay one on me.”
He smiles and grabs the back of her head, gently pulling her toward him. She keeps her lips pressed tightly together as his inch closer. Still, I see her break into a smile right before they touch, like she can’t help it, like maybe she wanted to kiss him all along.
I glance over at Andrew, hoping he doesn’t look too upset, but he’s barely even watching. He’s staring down at the floor, drawing a pattern in the wood with his thumb. He must feel my gaze on him, because he looks up and over to me.
Are you okay? I ask him telepathically. Is this hard to watch?
This game sucks, he says back.
Danielle places the bottle down on the floor and spins, and we all watch as it rotates back and forth. I take a long swig of tequila. At this point, the margarita mix isn’t necessary, because the tequila alone has started to taste pretty good, sort of sweet and tangy at the same time. When I set down the handle and look back at everyone, I notice that the bottle on the floor is pointing right at Andrew.
Everyone in the circle cheers, and Danielle crawls toward him, using her finger to motion him forward. They meet halfway and his hands slide through her hair like they belong there, and then they’re kissing. I saw them kiss before, in the car, but not like this. Not since I knew he loved her. I realize I’m still holding the bottle of tequila, and hand it back to the person next to me.
Then it’s Andrew’s turn to spin, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I don’t want it to land on me, because I don’t want to kiss him in front of anyone, in front of everyone. But I don’t want the bottle to land on anyone else either. I don’t want to think about what that means.
“Reed’s already kissed every girl in the circle!” Simon says.
“Not everyone,” Andrew says.
“Not Collins!” Edwin says, and I wince. Andrew’s ears redden, but he’s laughing and the bottle is spinning, spinning, spinning. Someone hands me the tequila and I take a sip, letting my eyes blur, letting my throat burn and my stomach fill with heat. Andrew looks over at me for a brief second, our eyes meeting quickly, before he turns back to the bottle, and I wonder what he’s thinking; if he’s worried about the bottle landing on me.
The bottle rolls to a stop and I feel suddenly like I’m about to cry.
It’s pointing at Hannah.
I raise a hand up to my mouth to try to cover the sound that’s escaped from me. Somehow I haven’t considered this possibility. Somehow it’s the worst one. I know it shouldn’t matter. This is a game, so it doesn’t count. My breath is coming out in short spurts, and I want to tell them I don’t feel well, tell them to stop, tell them they’re making me dizzy. But what right do I have? We all knew the rules of the game when we sat down to play. I’ll just embarrass myself if I say anything, only make Danielle think I have feelings I don’t have.
I stare down at the floor, trying not to watch, fixing my gaze on an imperfection in the wood, a long scuff mark where someone must have dragged a chair or a table. Everyone is clapping and cheering, but I can barely hear them. I glance up, because I can’t resist, because we’re always drawn to the things we’re most repulsed by.
Andrew and Hannah aren’t kissing. They’re both looking at me.
“What are you waiting for?” Danielle asks. “Kissy kissy.”
“I can’t,” Hannah says. I feel relief flood into me, relief that has no right to be there.
“We can’t,” Andrew repeats.
“Don’t be stupid,” Danielle says. “Everyone else has kissed. You could’ve already been done by now.”
He glances quickly back and forth from me to Hannah to Danielle, and back to me.
“Just do it!” Simon shouts.
“I
don’t want to, okay?” Hannah says, her voice getting sharper. “Can’t we just mutually decide to bow out of this round? He’s your prom date anyway. It’s too weird.”
Danielle turns to Andrew. “As your prom date, I give you permission.”
“It’s not going to happen,” he says.
I know they’re acting this way for my sake and I’m grateful to them, but it also makes me nervous. Did they see the panic I was trying so hard to hide?
“Fine.” Danielle folds her arms and sits back with a pout. “Fine. New rules. Whatever. Hannah, just give your kiss to someone else.”
“Hey,” Ava says, “that’s not fair. I wouldn’t have kissed Ryder if I didn’t have to.”
“Stop pretending you don’t like him,” Danielle snaps, and Ava looks away. “All right, Hannah. Who do you want to make Andrew kiss?”
“Pick Chase!” Cecilia says. “Pick Edwin!” Pick me, I know she’s thinking.
But of course Hannah will pick Danielle. She knows Andrew is in love with her—the secret I wasn’t supposed to tell. That’s why Danielle is changing the rules in the first place. Because she knows Hannah will pick her too.
Hannah picks up the bottle, holding it tentatively between her hands. Then she turns it around so it points at me.
“Keely.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“WHAT?” I ASK, feeling my breath catch in my throat. “That’s not—”
“Keely hasn’t had a turn yet,” Hannah says to the room.
What is she thinking? She knows Andrew and I are tiptoeing around each other, trying to pretend everything is still normal. But then I realize—she doesn’t know. I still haven’t told her I went through with the Plan. She doesn’t know Andrew and I have already kissed, have already done a whole lot more. She’s wanted us to be together for so long. Of course she’d jump at this chance. She probably thinks she’s a genius.
I glare at her.