by Beth Reekles
“I wanted to say sorry again, though.” He smiles sheepishly, and scuffs his toes against the welcome mat. “I was being a jerk.”
“Just a little. It wasn’t just you. I overreacted a bit too. Sorry. It’s fine, though.” Because I knew he meant it when he said he was sorry.
“You had every right to overreact—don’t worry about it. But, uh, I kind of wanted to check up on you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just felt like I should. The hoodie gave me an excuse.”
I laugh, and hold it up. “Well, thanks. And I’m fine, really.”
“Good. And hey, I just—I never said thank you, for yesterday. For making me go up to the tree house.”
I smile at him. “What’re friends for, huh?”
Someone comes crashing down the stairs, and all of a sudden Jenna’s leaning over my shoulder. “So you’re Dwight. Hey! Great to meet you.”
“Hi,” he says, with a nervous laugh. “You must be Jenna.”
“Yup! Well, I just wanted to say hi. Bye!”
She’s gone again, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I’ll get going—I can see you’re all heading out somewhere. You look really pretty, by the way.”
“Oh.” The compliment catches me totally off guard, and after a second or two I break into a huge grin. “Thanks.”
“See you, Dice.”
“Bye!” I call, and once he’s making his way down the street, I close the door. I turn around and jump out of my skin to see Jenna standing there in her dress, hands clasped behind her back as she rocks back and forth on her precariously thin heels.
“Don’t do that,” I say. “You scared the heck out of me.”
“So …?”
“So what?”
“So that’s him. He’s cute, in a nerdy kind of way.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I shrug.
“He doesn’t look much like a surfer.”
“That’s what I thought. Hey, do these earrings go okay?” They’re dangly silver spirals that Tiffany gave me a few days ago with a whole pile of other jewelry—according to her, I needed to improve my abysmally small collection.
Jenna nods approvingly. “Sure. So do you think he likes you?”
“As a friend,” I tell her firmly. “Don’t go getting any ideas that I’m in some sort of love triangle. I’m with Bryce, period.”
Jenna laughs. “I’m such a romantic.”
“To put it mildly.”
She laughs again and, for no apparent reason whatsoever, pulls me into a tight hug. “Oh, I missed my little sister.”
“I missed you too,” I tell her quietly, and hug her back just as tight.
Jenna and Henry leave first thing Monday morning, so I barely see them long enough to say goodbye and how nice it was to meet Henry since I’m rushing off to school. Summer and Tiffany are giving me a ride in this morning.
After the pleasantries of “How was your weekend?” Summer jumps straight into it, no beating around the bush.
“Have you picked your outfit for the party yet?”
“Um … I kind of, uh, forgot?”
“Like hell you did!” Tiffany snorts. “You’ve been putting it off ever since Bryce announced he was having the party!”
“Are you sure things are okay with you guys?” Summer wants to know. “Are you, like, avoiding the party or something?”
“No,” I tell her, “it’s not that. I just … don’t know what to wear.”
“We’ll have to go shopping Thursday. You guys have study hall after lunch, right?” Summer and I both give affirmative answers and Tiffany says, “Great! We’ll go then. Oh, and remind me I need to get some new lipstick. I keep forgetting.”
Everyone is at our usual bench except for Marcus and Kyle. Bryce stands up as soon as he sees me, and comes toward us. His fingers slip around my wrist and I let him tug me toward the school. I follow him inside the building, past my locker and up a staircase. We stand between the first and second floor, next to a huge window that overlooks the soccer field.
“Hey.” I pull the sleeves of my cardigan farther down so that the cuffs reach my knuckles.
He looks good, I think: he’s wearing a white tee under his letterman jacket that emphasizes his toned body and tanned skin. His jeans are slung a little low, but held up by a thick brown belt.
“Madison,” he says, meeting my eyes, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” I reply, almost automatically, smiling. He texted me a little over the weekend, but only to say that he had terrible cell phone reception and that his grandma disapproved of him calling his friends when he was supposed to be spending time with the family.
Suddenly he yanks me close to him, crushing his lips to mine. It takes a moment to recover from the shock and kiss him back.
Then he pulls away and says, “I’ve been waiting to do that since I saw you get out of Tiffany’s car five minutes ago.”
I laugh. “That must have been so painfully difficult for you. Five whole minutes.”
“It was,” he says, so serious that I have to giggle. Then he pulls me in for another kiss, this one much softer, and the only thing that makes us stop is the sound of the bell telling us to head to homeroom.
He gives me another lingering kiss, though, and then says, “I’m supposed to go see my Chemistry teacher first thing. I’ll see you later.” He plants another kiss on my forehead, and leaves me there to head to homeroom, so I do.
I will the week to drag by, because I’m dreading going shopping for my Halloween party outfit. But if anything, time seems to go by deliberately fast. I don’t think it helps that I’m so busy—I have essays due in for Art and History, a Biology test on Wednesday, extra track practice Tuesday and Wednesday …
So on Thursday, when the bell signals the lunch period, I drag my feet to our picnic bench to meet everyone. We decided to eat lunch here before going to the mall. I’m not complaining; it’ll buy me time to think up an excuse to get out of it.
I listen to them talking about the big soccer match next Friday evening, only paying attention because I know I’ll have to go to it. I’m struggling to open a pack of Skittles … Today just isn’t my day, I think—and that’s when the packet tears apart and the candy flies everywhere.
“Ah, crud,” I mutter, seeing there are only two left in the packet and the rest of them are on the ground.
“Madison?” Ricky asks, leaning down the table to me. “Why don’t you swear?”
“Yeah, why don’t you?” Melissa asks me. “Swear, that is.”
I shrug one shoulder, then the other, and pop my two Skittles in my mouth. “I don’t know,” I say when I’ve swallowed. “I just don’t.”
“There’s got to be a reason,” Kyle insists, and I see now that they’re all curious. I guess it is kind of odd that I don’t cuss, but it’s never bothered me. I don’t mind when people swear; it’s just not something I do.
“I don’t see any need to, I suppose.”
“Go on,” Adam says. “Say something rude. Swear.”
I roll my eyes, laughing him off.
“Say something,” Tiffany puts in. “Go on, Madison. Crap. That’s barely even a swear word. Say crap.”
I shift in my seat. “No. I don’t see why I should.”
“Oh, live a little!” she laughs, and I squirm a bit in my seat.
“Come on, guys, lay off her,” Bryce says, speaking for the first time. He bumps his knee against mine under the table and kisses my temple. “I think it’s cute that you don’t swear. It’s too mainstream, anyway.”
I laugh at that, and I don’t even realize how tense I am until my shoulders relax. He tucks a loose bit of my hair back, and I lean into his touch for a moment, silently conveying how grateful I am to him.
“Well, I guess we’d better get going,” Tiffany says, crumpling up her Doritos packet in her delicate, manicured fist. “Hey, Bryce, what’re you wearing for the party?”
He shrugs, making s
ome unintelligible grunt that we all translate as “I don’t know.”
“Great. Thanks, sweetie, you’re so helpful.”
Bryce frowns, looking bewildered. “What’d I do?”
“Never mind,” Tiffany laughs. Summer swings herself off the end of the bench and gives Marcus a quick kiss goodbye. Melissa tells us to have fun, and I go to give Bryce a kiss on the cheek, but he catches my lips instead.
As I buckle my seat belt, I try not to think how much I’m dreading this trip.
I know what kind of clothes they’ll pick out for me—skimpy, sexy things that barely cover my butt. Exactly what I don’t want to wear.
But these girls aren’t used to getting no for an answer, and I know that when they do, they won’t readily accept it. They’re my friends, sure, but that doesn’t mean they’re not just a little bit spoiled and overconcerned with appearances.
Once we’re at the mall, they make straight for a costume store, but move past the tacky outfits at the front to the pricier section.
“How about this?” they keep asking, pointing. “This would look so hot on you. Oh my gosh, wouldn’t this just look awesome with really bright red lipstick? Hmm … this one wouldn’t work, not with your haircut.”
I reject everything they suggest, either not liking it or knowing I won’t feel comfortable in it. I’m sorely tempted to turn up in jeans and a T-shirt, because I really don’t care. It’s just Halloween. I don’t see what all the fuss is about. You get a bowl of candy for all the cute kids dressed up in costumes and maybe you watch a scary movie.
Tiffany sighs, completely exasperated with me. “Madison, you have to pick something! You can’t not dress up, it’d be ridiculous!”
“Come on,” Summer tries to coax me. “It’s so much fun!”
“Unless you were planning on turning up naked and making some kind of statement against the commercialization of the holidays,” Tiffany laughs.
“Bet Bryce would love that.” Summer winks, and they both giggle. All I manage is a weak smile that I’m sure is more of a grimace.
“Come on, seriously, you have to pick something,” Tiffany chides. “I am not letting you turn up at this party in your jeans, because I know that’s what you’re planning on doing, Madison.”
I laugh at that. “Just give me a minute to look, okay? I’ll … I’ll find something. You guys go ahead. I’ll find you later.”
They exchange a wary glance. I know neither of them trusts me to get a stop-in-your-tracks-sexy outfit like they’ve chosen.
“Really,” I say, hoping they can’t hear the hard, impatient note seeping into my voice. “I’ll call you when I’m done. I won’t be too long, I swear.”
I wander around the second floor of the mall a little until I finally find a little black and purple window display that catches my eye.
Inside, I find exactly the kind of outfit I’m looking for.
I can’t help but grin as I thank the shop assistant and my fingers curl around the plastic handles of the carrier bag. It’s perfect. Utterly and completely perfect.
Chapter 27
The evening of the party, the four of us are getting ready in Tiffany’s room. She’s got some dance/pop music blasting and they’re all drinking from bottles of wine. I have a bottle of cider in my bag; not a big one, though. Mom said it was in case I wanted a drink; she wanted me to drink responsibly and safely.
The others are tipsy and giggling and dancing around the room. Tiffany’s standing on her bed swaying like someone at a rock concert, which makes me laugh. I sit on a chair, swinging my legs.
None of the girls could find a fault with my outfit; they thought it was sheer genius.
Except for when Tiffany sighed and said, “Well, it’s not much, is it?”
Black leggings that are artfully torn all the way from my thigh to my ankles, paired with a fluorescent green tutu; my top is torn and black, and I found a green cami almost as bright as the tutu to wear underneath. I wear a pair of black strappy sandals that Summer lent me for the party. I’ve miraculously managed to obey the how-to guide that I found online to get my hair to flick out, and I went totally overboard with my eyeliner, so my eyes are dark and hooded and mysterious.
The pixie look is definitely a win.
I couldn’t help but pair it with my old purple headphones, which I wear around my neck with the end of the wire tucked into my tutu. The girls thought it was a nice touch.
Truthfully, I need the headphones as an emergency resort if the party gets too much for me to handle. Even if they aren’t plugged into anything, they’re great at muffling the rest of the world.
Tiffany’s dad gives us a ride to Bryce’s. If I could drive, I’d have offered; but the girls aren’t planning on staying sober and I don’t have my license. By the time we get to the party, just before nine, everything is just beginning, and the girls are happily abuzz with alcohol, but not so much that they’re slurring or tripping over.
Bass thrums through the house, resonating in my bones. I like the adrenaline rush it gives me, like it’s lending me some sort of courage to not be a complete dork at this party. The last one was different; smaller, for one thing, but I didn’t know so many people then. Now, I hear people calling my name, and I don’t know which way to look.
“Hello, ladies. You’re all looking very fine this evening,” Kyle says with a wink at us all, drawing out the “fine.” He and Adam are with Bryce, who’s hanging in the hallway so that he’s there to greet people as they come in.
“Hey,” I say, sidling up to Bryce. I push myself up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Even when I’m wearing three-inch heels, he’s much taller than me.
I notice how none of the boys are dressed up quite as much as the girls—a couple of cool outfits, some superheroes, one guy I spot disappearing into the kitchen in a penguin suit. Bryce has gone for the (shirtless) Roman look. And I have to admit it: he does look hot.
He swivels away from the guys toward me, his eyes slowly trailing down me and then back up to my face, where I know my blush is obvious. His hands are on my waist.
“Well,” he says in a low voice in my ear, “you look absolutely unbelievable.”
“You know, every time someone says they don’t believe in fairies, a fairy dies.” Or something like that, I think, not quite remembering the quote from Peter Pan.
Bryce chuckles. “If I applaud you, will that help?”
I laugh too, giggling like a little girl.
“Give us a twirl, Tinker Bell.” I do, and when I’m back facing him, he pulls me in close and kisses me, and I think that this is probably a much more effective way of obliterating the party around me than the earphones that sit snugly around my neck.
I’m first to pull away, remembering that we’re on full display here.
He slings an arm around me and says, “You do look incredibly hot tonight, Mainstream.”
“And you make a highly attractive gladiator,” I reply. “I might have to borrow that deadly plastic sword to fend off all the girls who are checking you out.”
He laughs, and so do the guys, since they heard me.
“You don’t need to worry about that, Mads,” he laughs. “It’s me who’s going to need to fight the guys off you all night.”
“He’s right,” Adam pitches in, winking at me and taking a gulp from his can of beer. “If he’s not careful, I may just have to steal you away.”
I laugh, knowing he’s being silly, because that’s what Adam does. But still—I’m flattered, and bite my lower lip slightly, feeling shy all of a sudden.
“You’re sexy when you bite your lip like that,” Bryce murmurs in my ear. He kisses my temple. “Why don’t you go find the girls? I’ll come get you in a while, after I’ve finished playing host.” He gives me a look as if to say he’s less than pleased about having to play that role, but I know he’s basking in the glory of throwing such a great Halloween party.
“Sure,” I say, and kiss him briefly. “See you guys later!”
Even though I’m not really a party person, I can tell it’s a good one. There isn’t too much drinking—nobody’s completely wasted like they were at Tiffany’s. Even at ten o’clock everyone’s still just tipsy. The music’s not half bad, and everyone’s having a great time.
I see Bryce at intervals—never for very long because one of us is always distracted by someone else. Mostly, it’s Bryce, but I’m amazed to find people vying for my attention too. I’m not used to it.
It must be around eleven o’clock, but it feels more like three in the morning to me, when Bryce finally grabs my arm and says to Tiffany and Melissa, “Mind if I steal her away from you for a bit?”
“No, sure, go for it,” they answer him, and wave us away, carrying on dancing with everyone else.
He guides me through the teeming throngs of people and weaves through the kissing couples on the staircase. Bryce pushes open his bedroom door and closes it behind him with a sigh.
“Just needed to get away from it for a while?” I guess quietly, giving him a smile when he looks up at me.
“Just a bit,” he confesses as he leans back against the door. “But I wanted to see you. I know you’re not the most comfortable with PDA.”
I laugh, nodding, and let him pull me close. I put my arms around his neck and kiss him. I wriggle my feet out of Summer’s sandals, which have been killing me, but before I can step out of them properly, Bryce picks me up, wrapping my legs around him. One of the sandals is still dangling from my toes; it falls off with a soft thud. He pulls me a little closer as the kiss becomes more passionate. His bare chest is warm and strong against me, rising and falling steadily.
All of a sudden I’m lying on his bed and he’s on top of me, his warm hands sliding up underneath my tops.
It takes me a moment to realize, and another moment to disentangle myself from the kiss, turning away. I grab his arms, but by then he’s already started pulling my top off. I push his hands away, pull my T-shirts back down and keep my face out of reach when he tries to pull me into another kiss.
I’m comfortable around Bryce; but I’m not that comfortable just yet. I can’t even get changed in the locker rooms at gym class without feeling awkward and self-conscious.