by Portia Moore
Devin laughs as he climbs in the back of the car with Mike, and I take his seat in the front.
“Look, Aidan, you and Amanda are not going to happen. I’m sure there’ll be a lot of desperate girls at the party. Can’t you just ruin one of their lives?” I ask him, annoyed.
“Ruin one of their lives? I don’t think I’m that bad,” he says, feigning hurt feelings.
“Amanda likes you, yes, but—”
He cranks up the radio. I turn it back down.
“I like Amanda. She’s hot, and I like how she’s a different person every month. Maybe it’ll stop me from being bored.” He laughs, and I roll my eyes.
“No, you’re not going to do this. Amanda is someone I call a friend. You of all people know me and girls don’t typically get along. Can I have this one friend who doesn’t reek of testosterone without you messing it up?” I punch his shoulder.
“Okay. Give me fifty bucks,” he says with a shrug.
“I’m not giving you fifty dollars. Have you lost it?” I say in disbelief.
“Okay. If this van’s a-rocking,” Aidan says loudly.
“Don’t come a-knocking,” Mike and Devin say in unison, and I want to vomit.
“You all are so lame,” I say angrily.
I cannot let this happen. I try to think of what I can say to convince Amanda not to fall for Aidan’s peculiar charm that every other girl has fallen for, but I know how much she likes him. If he makes his move, I don’t have a lot of confidence in her to turn him down. When we pull up to Chris’s house, the idea comes to me as clear as day.
“I’ll go get him,” I say quickly and jump out of the car as soon as it’s comes to a stop.
I make my way up to Chris’s front door. He’s coming out before I even get to knock.
“See you, Mom,” he says as he closes it. “You got to go to the bathroom or something?” he asks me with a grin.
“I need you to ask Amanda out tonight,” I blurt.
His face scrunches up, then he laughs. “Why?”
“Because Aidan is going to, and you know how Aidan’s dates usually go.”
“How do you know she wants to go out with me?” he asks, scratching his head.
I knock on his head. “Chris, seriously. Do you not know how hot you are, the effect that shy smile and perfect dimples have on a girl?”
His face immediately turns pink. My poor oblivious best friend.
“Come on, just ask her out!” I plead.
He rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Isn’t it wrong for me to ask her out if I don’t really like her when Aidan does?”
“Come on, you know what way Aidan likes her. Besides, you might like her. Amanda’s not that bad.”
“She’s kind of weird.”
“What! Amanda’s not weird,” I say, trying to keep a straight face.
“It’s like she’s a different person every week!”
“A week is exaggerating. Maybe every month tops,” I say sarcastically.
He folds his arms across his chest.
“Come on, Chris. Amanda’s still finding herself, but deep down, she’s really sweet. And pretty, right?” I say, hugging his arm. I can see him starting to relent.
“Yeah, she’s cute,” he admits.
“So you’re going to take her out? Please, please, please,” I say like a five-year-old.
“Okay, fine, but if she decides to go out with Aidan, I’m not going chase after her or anything,” he says.
I hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Chrissy.”
When we’re back at the car, I give Aidan a smug grin before getting in the back with Devin and Mike. He eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t say anything
“Are you guys done making out?” Aidan teases, and Chris swats the back of the head.
WHEN WE ARRIVE at the party, tons of cars are parked in Amanda and Claire’s driveway, several people are on the porch, and music blares from the house. We all agree to meet back at the car at one thirty or, per Aidan’s words, our asses are walking home.
“Hey, Aidan.” A girl from our school walks up to us and pulls him into a conversation, which is perfect because it gives Chris and me time to get to Amanda first.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Aidan says to us, but I pull Chris by the hand.
“We’ll catch up with you, Aidan,” I say, pulling Chris behind me.
“You want something to drink?” Chris asks over the music.
“What do they have?” I ask.
Chris can see over the crowd as we make our way to the faux bar area, which is really three card tables with a big bowl of punch, beers, and wine coolers.
“Wine cooler?” he guesses.
I smile, taking the strawberry daiquiri from his hand. I quit trying the mystery punch at these parties a few months ago. I’m not much of a drinker, and every punch I’ve had so far is like drinking gasoline. Chris grabs a beer for himself and takes a swig of it. I look around the place for Amanda. We really need to get to her before Aidan does. If Aidan asks her first, I know Chris won’t go behind him and ask her out. Aidan probably still will since he’ll know I put Chris up to it, but I have to hope Amanda will be too excited about going out with Chris to agree to a date with Aidan too.
“My mom said Dad’s going to tutor you,” he says, leaning into my ear.
I nod. “Yeah. She said he used to be a teacher. You never mentioned that.”
“Yeah, right after he finished college or something like that.” He takes another swig from the beer can before setting it down. Chris isn’t much of a drinker either. He always insists on trying it though we both hate the taste of alcohol.
“You don’t mind, do you?” I ask playfully.
He scrunches up his face and laughs. “Why would I mind?”
“Your dad’s been out of town a lot, right? I want to make sure I’m not cutting into your father-son time or whatever,” I say playfully.
He frowns for just a moment before he’s back to his same happy Chris.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair, always a sign that something’s bothering him. “It’s nothing really.”
“No, tell me. You know I’m just going to pester you about it until you do,” I say, giving him a nudge.
He sighs. “My dad’s been weird lately.”
“What do you mean?” I’d always thought Chris had the perfect family. He has a cool dad—well, not exactly a cool dad, but a dad who’s always around. His mother and father never fight or yell at each other, and Chris’s parents are younger than all the other parents, which made them seem cooler when I was little.
“He’s just seems different. Not himself I guess.” He shrugs.
“What do you think it is?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I heard my mom on the phone saying she thinks he’s having a midlife crisis or something.” He chuckles.
“What has he been doing differently?”
“Nothing really. Well, it’s just he’s kind of been avoiding us the past few months . . . my dad always liked being at the farm, hands-on. But now he’s been handling more of the business side of things, so he has to be gone a lot. He keeps saying he wants us to be prepared for the future.”
“So you think it’s money problems?” I definitely know what those are like.
He chuckles. “No, that’s the thing. You know who my granddad is.” Chris finishes off his beer quicker than I ever have. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Chris finish a whole beer. “Granddad and Dad never used to get along, but now they’re all buddy-buddy.”
I take the empty can and toss it in a nearby garbage can. Yeah, of course Chris’s parents wouldn’t have money problems. His granddad is the richest guy in town, which is why my mom always says it’s odd they live where they do. Not that they live in a dump, but people would expect them to live next door to Amanda in one of the mini-mansions here.
“I don’t want to cause any problem
s or burden anyone. I can tell your mom I found someone else to help me,” I offer.
He frowns. “No, it’s cool. I think she’s just trying to give him something to do, maybe. If my mom wants him to do it, she must think it’s a good idea, that it’ll help.” He gives me a wide, reassuring smile, the type that can ease anyone’s worries and erase all their fears. His smiles have helped me a lot. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“I’m thinking of trying out for this band I checked out a few weeks ago,” he says.
I feel my eyes get bigger. “Really! When? Where? How did this happen without me knowing?” I think I’m a little offended. Chris has always played the guitar, and he’s good at it. That, of course, adds to his appeal.
“I didn’t want to say anything until I’d auditioned,” he says bashfully.
“Ugh. No, you should want us there during the audition!” I say as if it’s obvious, and he frowns. “You don’t want us there? Is it, like, private or something?”
“It’s not private. It’s just that you and Aidan . . . I know you mean well and you both will be excited for me, but you can come off as . . .” he stops, searching for the right words
“A little much. Yeah, Aidan is totally too much.” Then I stop. He said me and Aidan?
“It’s just you’ll make me more nervous,” he says, quickly realizing he’s hurt my feelings.
“I get it.”
“You’re not mad, are you?”
I huff a little. “My feelings are a little hurt, but I’ll get over it. Let’s go find Amanda before Aidan gets to her.”
I take his hand, and we make our way through the partygoers. We find Amanda upstairs with her sister Deanna, whom I hate less than Claire but still can’t stand. Amanda can’t even stand her sisters. They’re stuck-up prudes. As soon as Deanna sees me, she excuses herself from the crowded hallway but not before rolling her eyes at me.
Amanda’s eyes light up as they land on me and Chris. “You came!” She gives me a big hug. “Hey, Chris! I’m glad you’re here.” She gives him a wide smile and flirty eyes, which he doesn’t even notice, so I nudge him.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he says, nodding.
“Amanda, Chris has never seen your house. Why don’t you give him a tour?” I suggest.
She eyes me in disbelief at first, and I wink at her.
“Yeah. If you’re up for helping me through the sea of drunken people.” She giggles.
When Chris smiles, it seems completely genuine, not at all forced. “Cool. Lead the way.”
Amanda turns around and gives me a huge smile. Chris glances back too, and I mouth, “Thank you,” and blow him a kiss.
“What’s that about?”
I turn around and see Deanna staring at me from behind her Prada glasses and long blond bangs.
“What are you talking about, Deanna?”
“My sister isn’t a charity. She doesn’t need your pity setups. Especially with a guy who’s so obviously into you,” she says, crossing her arms.
I scoff at her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I walk away, but she grabs my shoulder. I have to remind myself I’m in her house to stop me from backhanding her. Since Claire’s not here right now to be a bitch, I guess Deanna has decided to take up her mantle. They are twins after all, in all the worst ways.
“It’s so obvious. If you can’t see that, you shouldn’t be involved in anyone’s love life. Besides that, Amanda doesn’t need your help. My sister is beautiful, smart, and not the daughter of a whore. She doesn’t need you setting her up with anyone.”
I take a deep breath and count to ten to avoid knocking those glasses right off her face. When I get to eight and realize it’s pointless—I’m going to rip her head off—I feel someone pick me up from behind. I glance back and see Aidan.
“Let me go, Aidan!” I yell.
“Why are you so mad?” Deanna asks sarcastically. “I didn’t say you were the daughter of a whore. I said my sister’s not. But if you feel like you’re the daughter of a whore like everyone else says—”
“Hey, Deanna, shut the hell up before I let her go,” Aidan yells back.
“Don’t tell me to shut up. This is my house, and both of you can get the hell out,” she says.
Aidan ushers me down the stairs, through onlookers and gawkers. I feel hot, like my face is on fire. I’m not sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment.
“Go outside and cool off. You know she won’t fight you. She’ll just call the police, and that stuck-up bitch isn’t worth sitting in jail over,” Aidan says, his blue eyes boring into mine.
I nod furiously.
“Aaidan, come heeere,” a drunk girl from my science class slurs.
“Stacy, one minute,” he says, flashing her a wide smile.
“It’s okay, Aidan. Go ahead. I’m cool,” I tell him as the redhead drapes herself across his back.
“You sure?” he asks again.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” I say before heading outside.
I sit on the porch steps and let out a loud groan. I fight away the tears building in my eyes.
“This party’s so terrible I want to cry too,” an amused deep voice says.
Too bad I’m not in the mood for jokes.
“I’m not crying, but if I were, it wouldn’t be any of your business.” I angrily wipe away my tears. The last thing I need is some drunk guy trying to flirt with me, thinking I’m vulnerable and he’s going to get laid.
“Well, tell me, why are you not crying?”
I channel all my energy into not taking out all of my frustrations on this annoying, nosey stranger—until I look into a warm pair of green eyes. He smiles as if he’s used to making girls speechless. He’s tall, taller than Aidan and Chris. He looks a bit older than us, with brown stubble around his cheeks and brown hair so light it’s on the edge of being blond. His eyes are so light green they look almost blue.
“Are you a friend of Claire and Deanna’s?” I ask, steadying my voice. He looks about twenty at least.
“Sort of,” he says, taking it upon himself to sit next to me.
“Sort of are or sort of are not?” Anyone who is Claire or Deanna’s friend isn’t someone I want to be associated with.
“Claire’s seeing a friend of mine,” he says, resting his arms on his knees.
“Well, if you want to stay in her good graces, I’d say to stay the hell away from me,” I warn him.
“I’m not dating Claire, so I don’t particularly care what she thinks.” He smirks.
“Well, you’d be the first in this town to not care what she thinks,” I mutter.
“If you don’t like Claire, why are you here?”
“I’m best friends with her sister Amanda,” I say as I give him a quick once-over. I notice he’s wearing a Michigan State T-shirt.
“You’re still in high school?”
“Last year,” I tell him as I wipe the remaining tears from my eyes.
“It gets better after this, you know. You’ll see the petty rivalries and things you thought were important just aren’t.”
“Well that’s easy to say from where you’re sitting,” I say, hugging my knees to my chest.
“A few inches away from a beautiful girl?”
I can’t help but smile. “I thought they taught better pickup lines in college.”
“Well, it made you smile, so I don’t think it was too bad,” he counters.
“I guess it wasn’t.”
“So was it good enough for you to tell me your name?”
“Lisa.”
“Nice to meet you, Lisa. I’m Brett,” he says, extending his hand.
After a second of hesitation, I take it. “Brett.” I chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I say, covering up my laugh.
I can’t help remembering a conversation Chris, Aidan, and I had a few weeks ago when we called out the names of douchebags. Brett was one of the fir
st names we’d called out. Brett doesn’t seem like a douchebag. At least not yet.
The rest of the night, Brett Stelson and I sit in our own little world on the front porch. It seems like forever but passes like minutes. We talk for a long time, and he never makes a pass or makes me feel as though I should punch him in the face. Talking to him is easy. He doesn’t make me feel as if I have to entertain him or let him feel me up to keep his attention. He’s smart, a premed major. He grew up in Chicago and is at Michigan State on a track scholarship. He’s an only child, like me, and his favorite food is chocolate chip cookies. I make sure to tease him about that not really being a food but more of a snack, and as a premed major, he should know the difference.
Around twelve thirty, I tell him I have to head toward the car so that my friends won’t leave me at the party.
“Well, Lisa who has a prejudice against chocolate chip cookies, would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asks, and I feel my cheeks heat up. “If only to prove to you that your bias against chocolate chip cookies is totally unfounded.”
I giggle and try to remember the last time I was asked on a date that I felt really excited about. It’s been a while. I like Brett Stelson. He’s older and seems to have the right sophistication that’s so lacking around here, and he made me forget about wanting to bash in Deanna’s head, so maybe he is something special.
“Good to see you haven’t been taken away in handcuffs.”
I turn around to see Aidan and his girl of the night standing behind us.
“Not yet at least,” I retort as Brett and I stand. I see Aidan eying Brett curiously. “Brett, this is my friend Aidan. Aidan, this is Brett.”
In only a second, Aidan’s eyes meet mine, and he snickers. He’s so immature. Brett looks a little confused.
“Don’t worry about him. Aidan’s six,” I tell Brett, and he smirks.
“Me and Kimberly are making a beer run. You okay?” he asks, sidestepping my insult.
“Beer run? They ran out of—” I stop when Brett nudges me, and I realize it’s a ploy to get Kimberly alone. “Ooohh. Well, hopefully your beer run won’t take long since you’re everybody’s ride.”
They both walk past us. That’s the one thing I hate about riding with Aidan. If he decides to go off somewhere and hook up, we’re stuck waiting until he’s finished. I hear a buzzing noise coming from Brett’s pocket. He pulls out a cell phone. Only about ten people in our class have them so far.