by Beth Reekles
“Tofu. The prediction for next week is kale. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. You don’t have any idea where he’d be? He didn’t say anything to you?” Her speculation that he might have a flat tire sent my mind racing. What if he’d got in an accident? What if something awful had happened?
But then…why had he lied to me and Rachel? Where the hell was he?
“No, he just said he was hanging out with you tonight. He said he was having dinner with you and your dad and your brother, and then you were gonna play some video games and chill.”
I stared at my phone for a second. That was a whole lie. Not even just a little one. He’d told me it was date night and he was taking Rachel out for dinner.
What was so important that he’d lied to both of us?
“Wait, I’ve got him,” Rachel said. “Look at Olivia’s Instagram story.”
The first picture was of five kegs of beer and the caption #getrekt. The next one was a selfie of Olivia with two of the guys from the football team. Then there were some videos, of what looked like a party, only, as far as I could tell, it was just the football team and some of the popular girls, mostly cheerleaders.
“He lied to us to go to a party,” Rachel said. Her voice was small.
“He’s dead. I’ll come pick you up and we’re so busting his ass. Give me two minutes to put on some shoes and get in my car.”
* * *
• • •
Rachel was trying really hard not to cry. She kept sniffling, then wiping the corners of her eyes, then saying, “I just don’t get why he lied? Why didn’t he just say he was hanging out with the guys from the team?”
Every trace of animosity she’d held toward me had vanished. This wasn’t about Lee trying to juggle his friendship with me and his relationship with her. Tonight, we were a united front.
The house wasn’t lit up like a beacon of high school chaos and freedom, like it was for any of the other parties Jon had hosted, but as we walked up the drive we could hear laughter and music through an open window.
Rachel hesitated while I tried the door handle. It was open.
“I don’t know, Elle, maybe we should just…talk to him tomorrow.”
She looked so upset, so betrayed. I knew that feeling all too well, but I was too furious with Lee to even consider letting him off the hook easy tonight. Conflict wasn’t usually my bag, but this was an exception. Rachel wringing her hands and biting her lip in an attempt not to start sobbing only spurred me on.
“You stay here if you want, but I’m going in.”
I stepped inside and heard Rachel run up after me. She touched my shoulder. I think it was more for her comfort than mine.
We followed the noise to the massive living room. There was a video game playing on TV—it looked like Fortnite. There was music playing from somewhere, too, but nowhere near as loudly as for a usual party. The football team were scattered across the couches, chairs, sitting on the floor or standing around the room. Bottles of beer and cups were scattered on every surface. There were maybe five or six girls around—I recognized them from the cheerleading squad.
Lee was sprawled in the corner of one couch, a cup balanced in his loose hand on the arm of the couch, with Peggy Bartlett perched on his knee, pushing his hair back off his face and giggling.
Rachel made a noise behind me, and I turned just in time to see her run out.
I debated running after her, but I’d deal with Lee first.
I stepped into the room, and people looked up.
“Hey, Flynn, you didn’t say you were gonna invite one of your girlfriends!”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he slurred, but grinned at me. “ ’Sup, Shell?”
“Nah, he’s totally boning her on the side,” someone muttered, but by the time I looked up to glare, I couldn’t tell who’d said it.
“This is date night? This is why you can’t answer your phone?”
“Hey, lay off him, all right?” Benny Hope, a guy who’d had to retake sophomore year, called over. “Go back home to your Build-A-Bear collection.”
“Dude, come on,” Lee said, laughing. “Mr. Snuggles is a cherished member of the family.”
Everyone laughed. My cheeks burned. I balled my hands into fists, trying not to run out of there like Rachel had.
“Lee, we’re leaving.”
“But I’m having fun.” His glassy eyes rolled toward me, his mouth an open, slack smile. “It’s fun, Elle. You should stay.”
“Your girlfriend just ran out of here crying. You don’t think maybe you should go follow her and talk to her? You don’t think maybe you owe both of us an apology?”
“C’mon, I’m not the one who crashed your party and ruined your night.”
Peggy Bartlett laughed, pushing his hair back again. “Yeah, Elle. Maybe you should just leave before you ruin everybody’s night. Nobody invited you, last time I checked. Nobody asked for a stripper.”
More laughter. Lee’s was loudest.
There was a hand on my shoulder. I almost expected it to be Rachel, but the hand was too heavy. I looked up to find Jon smiling at me. There was no sympathy in his eyes, but no mockery, either. I couldn’t help but feel relieved at the intervention, and the fact that at least someone was happy to see me.
“Hey, Evans! What’re you doing here? Flynn invite you?”
“She’s totally dragging us down, J,” one of the other girls whined. She was a junior and I didn’t know her that well. Sara? Sarah? Something like that. She pouted and it looked like one of those overexaggerated Snapchat filters. It wasn’t a good look on her. “Tell her to leave already.”
“You want a beer, Elle?” he asked me instead. “Stick around, huh? I’ll get you a beer.”
“Elle’s a bad drunk,” Lee pitched in. “She should go home.”
“I’m not staying,” I told Jon. “I’m taking Lee home.”
He eyed Lee. I could smell the beer on Jon’s breath, but he didn’t look wasted like the rest of the guys. “He’s been drinking for hours. You bring your car? I’ll help you get him outside.”
A few people protested, moaning that Jon was ruining the party now, too, saying he should leave Flynn where he was, Flynn was fine, they were all having a great time till I showed up and ruined it.
To me, Jon said, “He’s kind of an angry drunk.”
“He didn’t used to be. Actually, he didn’t used to get any kind of drunk, so much.”
“You drank enough for the two of you, right?” He winked, then moved into the room and tapped Peggy’s waist to make her move. She threw a nasty look at me over her shoulder, nose scrunched up like I’d brought a bad smell in. I was sure she could make my life miserable come school on Monday if she wanted, but right now, I couldn’t bring myself to care if I pissed her off. Jon hooked an arm around Lee and dragged him to his feet.
“Get off, Fletcher, I’m fine. I can walk,” Lee protested, but his legs didn’t do a lot except stumble along as Jon took him outside. Jon practically carried him down the driveway.
“Where’re you parked?”
“There wasn’t any space, so I’m a block down. It’s fine. Thanks. I think he needs to sober up a little. I don’t want him puking all over my car, you know?”
“Sure. Hey, you need anything, give me a shout, yeah?”
Much as I appreciated the help, and that Jon hadn’t been shitty with me like everyone else had, something still niggled at me. Jon was captain of the football team this year, and…
“Did you make him do this?” I called after Jon as he started back toward the house.
He turned, head cocked to the side. “What, get drunk? I mean, we played a few drinking games, but—”
“Lie to us. I know you guys said he couldn’t tell us where he was when you did that initiation thing, so…” I was hoping Lee
had a really stupid reason for lying to me and Rachel about tonight—like the fact that it was some football team secret party. Any reason.
Jon laughed. “That’s crazy. It was just a low-key thing tonight. Not even a party. I told the guys not to shout about it on Facebook, because I didn’t want things to get too crazy, but I didn’t tell him to lie to you about it.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Lee sat on the edge of the sidewalk where Jon had dropped him, legs stretched out in front of him, hunched forward with his elbows on his thighs. He groaned, mumbling unintelligibly.
I looked at him, hands on my hips, before looking around for Rachel. I spotted her standing by the car and waved her over. She didn’t move, so I kept waving, in case she hadn’t seen me.
Then my phone buzzed.
I can’t see him right now. You talk to him first.
I sat down on the sidewalk next to Lee. “You did a really shitty thing tonight, you know that?”
“So did you. I was just having fun. Why’d you have to stop me having fun?”
I laughed, the sound dry and bitter. “Remember how shitty I felt when I saw that picture of Amanda and Noah? That’s exactly what you just did to Rachel.”
“Did not.”
“Uh, yes you did. You and Peggy looked pretty cozy. Throw in the fact that you lied to Rachel about where you were tonight, and you don’t come out of this looking good. And I don’t just mean because you look like you might puke.”
“What, and you come out of this looking good for stalking me and tracking me down? Ten points to Sherlock and Holmes.”
“Watson.”
“God,” he snapped.
“Don’t be like that,” I snapped back. “You lied to both of us. You told me you were with Rachel, told Rachel you were with me, just so you could, what, come to a party where you could flirt with Peggy from the cheerleading squad?”
“Oh, like you’re so perfect!”
Lee sat up, putting one hand behind him to lean back on. He looked pasty in the light of the streetlamps, his eyes unfocused and bloodshot, but his mouth was pressed into a tight line.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re making Rachel into such a third wheel. Or you’re the third wheel. I don’t know, okay, but there’s a third wheel somewhere. And now that’s my problem to deal with? You’re just feeling sorry for yourself for dumping Noah. The guy you lied to me for months about to be with. You lied to me, because you were too busy making out with my brother, and you think that wasn’t a crappy thing to do?”
I scoffed, standing up. “Okay, this is so not the same thing.”
Lee struggled to his feet, too, swaying. “So you get to be let off the hook, and I don’t?”
“I never— Jeez, Lee, this has nothing to do with Noah! This has nothing to do with me feeling lonely! Forget about me! Rachel is so upset she can’t even talk to you right now. You don’t think you owe her an apology?”
He looked away.
“I get you hate being Noah’s little brother, and that he was this big star on the football team, and he left you this big reputation to live up to, but nobody ever said you had to be such a jerk and push away everyone who cares about you. When was the last time you went to see a movie with Warren, and Cam and Dixon, and Olly? When was the last time we went to the mall for a milkshake? I know we all hung out last night, but that was for the first time in months. Literally, in months. I’m not trying to ruin your Friday night and tell you to stop hanging out with the jocks, but Jesus, Lee, have some self-respect.”
I turned on my heel, marching off. I thought I heard him say something, but when I looked back, he was just puking his guts up instead.
I hesitated.
I couldn’t just leave him there like this.
I jogged down the road to Rachel. There were tear tracks down her face, and she made quiet sobbing sounds. She sniffled, swallowing hard, when I reached her.
“He’s in bad shape,” I told her.
“Did he apologize?”
I bit my lip. “Not…exactly. Look, Rach, why don’t you take my car and go home? I’ll sort him out. He’s puking. I can’t leave him. I’ll come get my car from you tomorrow. Hey, I’ll come get my car, and we’ll go to the mall together, huh? Some girl time. No boy talk or any of that crap. We’ll just hang out.”
“That sounds…that sounds good, Elle. Thanks. But are you sure—”
“I’ll get a ride home, don’t worry. I’ll fix this. And I promise that by the time he’s sober, he’s going to be groveling to you for your forgiveness for weeks.”
Rachel smiled, but it was strained. She took the car keys from me, twiddling them in her fingers and rattling my keychains. “Elle, do you…d’you think I…Did I do something wrong?”
“What?”
“Peggy’s a cheerleader.”
“He’s not interested in Peggy. I don’t think he even knew she was sitting on his knee. He’s literally so trashed right now, Rach, he can’t even stand up. I can promise he’s not cheating on you. But he is being a total jerk for some reason, and you have every right to be mad at him.”
“Let me know he’s okay? Let me know you’re okay, too? Are you sure you can get a ride home? I just…I can’t see him right now, Elle, I can’t.”
“Go home. I’ll text you later, okay? Promise. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Rachel nodded, and once she’d got into my car and had started adjusting the mirrors, I went back to Lee. He was slumped, sitting back on the sidewalk with his head in his hands, groaning, a pool of vomit in front of him.
I took my cell phone back out and called my dad.
I’d told him I was going to see Lee and Rachel, which hadn’t been a lie. It took a couple of rings before he answered. “Elle? Everything okay?”
“No. Dad, I need…I need some help.”
“What’s wrong? Did you get in a crash? Elle? What—”
“No, I’m fine,” I said quickly, “but Lee’s so drunk he’s throwing up, and I can’t leave him here.”
“Where are you?”
“Jon Fletcher’s house. You know, from the football team. Lee was here for some football party thing. Rachel doesn’t want to see him. I gave her my car and she’s gone home. I can’t leave him here like this, Dad.”
“Text me the address. Give me five minutes. I’ll have to get Brad in the car, too.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I hung up, texted him Jon’s address, and nudged Lee with my toes. “You owe me big-time.”
He just groaned in response.
While we waited, Jon came back out with a bottle of water. “Thought I saw you still out here. You want a hand getting him in your car?”
“No, thanks, my dad’s on his way. Rachel took my car. She couldn’t face him.”
“Nothing happened with him and Peggy,” Jon said quickly, earnestly. “She’s a helpless flirt, but Lee kept saying how he had a girlfriend.”
“Thanks.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thanks, Jon. I appreciate it. I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
“Nah, you didn’t ruin anything.” He grinned at me, then clapped me on the shoulder again. “I’ll see ya.”
I waved as he went back into the house, uncapped the water bottle, and bent down to put it to Lee’s mouth. He took it from me with shaky, fumbling hands, and sipped at it until my dad arrived.
“Please don’t tell my mom” was all Lee could say as my dad hauled him up into the backseat of the car. “Please don’t tell my mom.”
“Buddy, I think you’ve got bigger things to worry about.” My dad sighed. I climbed into the car after Lee, and my dad said, “There’s a bucket on the floor there. Make sure he pukes into the bucket.”
“I’m not gonna p
uke,” Lee managed. He groaned once we started driving, though, and took the bucket off me, with one more “Please don’t tell my mom.”
Chapter 17
Lee stayed the night, sleeping on the couch with the bucket near his head. I stayed awake as long as I could, watching him, but eventually I fell asleep, too. We both woke up when my dad came downstairs to make coffee, around eight.
“Shit,” Lee muttered, smacking his lips. “Shit.”
“I think that’s an understatement, but yeah.”
“Shit.”
He dragged himself up, and I gave him the silent treatment while he drank some water, then coffee, then ate six slices of toast. I got dressed while he took a shower and tossed him one of his sweatshirts from my closet when he came back into my room in his jeans, hair still wet. At least he looked more human now. Less ashy and hungover zombie. His voice was rough and his eyes were bloodshot. He dragged his feet as he crossed the room toward me and leaned against me. I pushed him away.
“Elle? Shelly, c’mon. Please. I’m really sorry. I’m sorry I was such a mess and you had to take care of me. I’m sorry I was such a jerk.”
“You know, Lee, that’s not even why I’m mad. I’m mad because you really hurt Rachel. She wouldn’t have cared that you were at that party. She’s hurt because you lied about it. You know how I felt when I heard Noah on the phone to Amanda? That’s exactly the kind of hurt Rachel’s feeling.”
“I know. I know. God, I know.”
“Don’t you have anything else to say? We did this before, remember? You were an asshole at a party, apologized the next day, and we moved on. But I’m not doing this with you again, Lee. I can’t do this every time there’s a party. You need to get your shit together. I need to get my shit together, too, I know, but…I’m being an annoying, sad potato. You’re—”
“Please don’t say wrecking ball. Because you know I’ll have to start singing.”
I jutted one hip out, crossing my arms, and Lee’s smile disappeared.
“Sorry.”
“Seriously. Next time, I’m not gonna help you out like this. You need to make it up to Rachel.”