But maybe guys never get sick of seeing tits?
“Hey, Rachael, is all of your hair purple?” Gabby yells back, and she and Janine take to fits in the front seat.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” she replies, laughing.
She leans over to me and whispers, “It’s totally waxed — everything!”
“Oh my God!” I’m laughing now, too. It feels good, really good. I want to feel good again. Maybe I will meet someone tonight. I’m going to relax and have fun and see what happens. Michael and Danny can go screw each other for all I care! This is the start of a new me. Tonight I start taking control! I sit up straight in my seat and start singing along.
Janine turns down the music. “Damn! Look at all the cars. We’re going to have to walk, like, half a mile to get to the house.”
“No!” I yell, too loud.
“Easy there,” Rachael says, eyebrows raised.
“Couldn’t you drop us off at his house and then park?” It’s amazing how quickly I can go from self-assured to quivering Jell-0 girl.
“I’m not a chauffeur!” Janine snaps.
“But, Jeeves, that’s what Mumsy and Daddy pay you for,” Gabby says.
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, kicking the back of Gabby’s seat. “I just want to get the party started, you know? It’s been so long since I’ve been out.” I slump in my seat as they all start whooping it up and cheering. Couldn’t they hear the total lack of enthusiasm in my voice?
“Thatta girl!” Janine says. “Tonight is gonna rock!”
Gabby and Rachael start singing that Pink song about getting the party started as Janine parks the car alongside some bushes. You could fit five houses from my neighborhood in the space between the houses here, and apparently the very rich do not believe in streetlights. The darkness provides perfect cover for vampires stalking their ex-girlfriends.
Of course, my side of the car is inches from some very thick hedges that anyone or anything could be lurking behind. I can’t move. I can’t make my hand move to open the door. God, I can’t even control my hands lately.
Gabby slams her door and opens mine. “Apres vous, mademoiselle.”
Her voice is like a trigger, and I jump out of the car and wrap my arm around hers.
“Merci.” I’m guessing it’s better to get out than get left behind alone in the car. I wonder if vampires have to be invited into cars, or if it’s just a house thing?
I link my other arm with Rachael’s. “Brrrr, it’s cold!” I say, so they won’t know I’m using them as human shields.
My eyes are darting back and forth across the street, checking out the shadows — so far so good. I figure if Michael was going to strike, it would’ve been right when we got out, when he’d think we weren’t expecting anything. That’s what I would have done, and I certainly don’t expect Michael to come up with anything too complex.
I can hear the music now, and I stop clutching their arms so tightly. We’re almost there, and we’re rushing through the cold air, arms all linked. I’m starting to smile. Michael isn’t anywhere near here. I’m free for the night—
Gabby stops suddenly, pulling us all back.
A small squeak escapes from my throat. Is it Michael?
“We’re off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz,” Gabby belts out as she starts us forward again with an added skip to our walk.
I laugh and start singing along, wondering if the Wizard could drop his hands in his sack and bring out something for me — maybe a little self-control.
CHAPTER TEN
I’ve been to six parties at Mark Menducci’s, but I’m still blown away by how the über-rich live. Is it really necessary to have arcade-style video games in one’s home? Is it really necessary to have a heated swimming pool with two attached Jacuzzis? I don’t know what Mark’s father does, but I’d guess he’s not around much, and as far as I know there isn’t a mother or stepmother — there aren’t any personal photos around to document a mom, at least.
I scan the living room as Gabby and Janine head off to talk to Mark; it’s mostly theater and band kids from our school. I recognize a bunch of guys, Mark’s local friends, from the other parties, but can’t remember any of their names. The smell of pot is thick in the air, but I can’t see anyone partaking. Rachael points to the patio, where a small crowd is gathered around the kegs. That will do for starters. We start to head out and I’m glad to see someone is tapping a new one. I’m so sick of my mother’s liquor cabinet.
“Look who’s back from the dead!” someone shrieks.
My heart skips two beats as that scream echoes off the fifty-foot ceilings. I turn around, relieved to find it’s just Kassie Campbell flinging her arms around me. The entire room is staring at me, but not in a bad way. I think they’re relieved that none of them will have to sit through a Kassie talk marathon. I see two people pointing at me, mouthing the word “sucker.”
“Where the h-e-double-l hell have you been, girl?”
Kassie has obviously been here for a while. She digs her fingers into my shoulders to keep her balance. I turn my head away from her face to ward off another beer breath attack. It’s interesting how disgusting beer breath is when you haven’t had any yourself.
“Uh, I’ll get you a drink,” Rachael says, scurrying away.
“Oh, me too! Me too! Get me one,” Kassie calls out.
“Hi, Kassie,” I say. I try to smile at her. She does seem to be genuinely pleased to see me. I guess we must have classes in opposite wings this year because I think the last time I saw her was at Melissa Smith’s track party.
“What did you do to your hair? It looks so tremendo!”
“It was Rachael’s idea.”
Kassie looks around the room, smirking. “Why doesn’t she do this to her hair? I mean what is up with like the purple? Heinous!”
I shrug. “Everyone’s got their own thing, I guess.”
Kassie nods and snorts with laughter. I really don’t think she needs another beer. But then, I guess she’s like the rest of us: keep drinking until you puke or your ride wants to go home. Not that I have any intention of binge drinking tonight.
“You must sit with me, Jordan,” she says, dragging me to an empty space on a leather couch. “I must know where you’ve been. Why didn’t you go out for the cross-country team? Coach has been, like, this total Nazi — majorly riding our asses. We need you. And I told everyone that you were gonna be part of the set crew. I mean, like, after you did such a tremendo job on Brigadoon, I just figured Jordan Malone would be out there, you know, leading the paint crew. It’s not too late, you know — you can still help. And they need help! The fucking sets are, like, all mud-colored, it looks like a monkey painted them. And who the hell ever heard of Dark of the Moon, anyway? The show’s a tremendo bummer; I’m sooo glad I didn’t get a part. And someone put dog shit in the witches mud.” She starts laughing and digs her fingers into my arm again.
I wrinkle my nose. I think that’s an appropriate response for the barrage I’ve just sat through.
“The witches put the mud on their fucking faces!” she screams.
She’s rocking back and forth laughing her head off.
“Excuse me, Jordan, I have a delivery.”
I look up and a guy with deep green eyes is handing me a beer. He looks familiar, and my stomach does a nervous flip, like I’ve just realized I’ve forgotten something important.
“Rachael said you are in desperate need of liquid salvation.”
I nod and take it. “Thanks.”
“Hey, where’s mine? She was supposed to get me one, too.” Kassie pouts.
“Sorry, she didn’t mention anyone else,” he says, sitting down on my other side.
He has a nice voice. Smooth.
“Well, we’ll just see about that! Rachael thinks she’s all that with her stupid purple hair, but she’s not, let me tell you! She’s—”
“Whoa, Kassie, this may or may not have been an obvious slam, but I
think you need to talk to Rachael and clear the air,” I suggest.
Kassie apparently thinks this is a tremendo idea, and springs off the couch, nearly upending me. I narrowly avoid soaking Mr. Green Eyes’ pants with beer, but the carpet takes the hit. I’ll assume Mark will get the entire house professionally cleaned tomorrow so I don’t bother with it. Kassie stumbles off to the patio and my rescue hero points up to the balcony above us.
Rachael wiggles her eyebrows at me and points to my new friend. She mouths the word “cute.” I think she sent this guy over to be helpful, maybe to lift my spirits, but I can’t help but feel I’ve just been pimped out. My cheeks are burning, but when I turn back, my new buddy is watching Kassie try to get the screen door back into its track — missing, I hope, my exchange with Rachael.
“Thanks, you saved me,” I say.
He smiles at me. Nice smile. Really nice green eyes.
“You don’t remember my name, do you?” His smile turns sly.
Oh, great, did I get all gropey with this guy and completely forget? I will kill Rachael if she sent an old flyby guy after me.
“I’m sorry.” I’m getting the feeling I’ve had a close encounter with him, and I’m pretty embarrassed because it’s obvious he remembers and I don’t. Considering the state in which I left Mark’s last party, this really isn’t a big shocker. I down what’s left of my beer and will my brain cells to regenerate.
He laughs and one cute dimple turns up on his cheek. “Well, I don’t think I could forget you. I mean, how many girls confess they’ve had cockroaches for pets?”
“Bug-boy!”
“I prefer Kyle, actually.”
I remember!
It was at the last party I went to. I was in the kitchen when I heard some of Mark’s friends calling Kyle “Bug-boy.” He told them to fuck off, but I went up to him all trashed and asked what was up with the nickname.
He told me about his dad being an entomologist and I got excited. I think I made an absolute fool of myself jabbering about roaches. I hope I wasn’t as bad as Kassie.
He leans his arm over the back of the couch, resting it lightly on my shoulders. I take it he’s been here awhile, too, to make a move like that so soon. Maybe he just doesn’t feel like wasting time with small talk.
“I told my dad I’d met someone who actually had cockroaches for pets; he thinks I should marry you.”
“Ha, that’s funny.” He’s staring at me… what the hell happened that night? Part of me wonders if we actually made some sort of connection, a connection that beer has erased from my memory.
Kyle leans in and whispers in my ear. “I had to tell him that someone stole you out from under my nose, and you haven’t been to the last few parties. I thought you were the one that got away.”
The ear thing triggers my memory. What is it about hot breath on ears, anyway? I remember Kyle and I talked forever that night, in a bar-slash-playroom somewhere in the house. He has a perfect sister that his parents worship. His dog’s name is Marley, after the ghost. The only question left is how did I end up with Matt Walberg in the pool house? Kyle is way cuter than Matt. What was I thinking? And how did Matt intercept my love connection with Bug-boy?
I look over and he’s smiling. He knows he’s getting to me, but, well, I have absolutely no idea what to say next. I suppose his dad and I could talk about roach food, but I don’t know a thing about Kyle. Besides Marley and his sister, that is.
I need more beer.
“Um, I think I’ll get another beer. Do you want one, too?” That’s good, a polite offer. We can talk about beer.
“Or we can go to the barroom in the basement and pick up where we left off. Bonus is we can drink from bottles, you know, so we won’t have to fight the keg foam. Come on.”
Do I want to go? I’m not sure. Kyle’s hot, and maybe Rachael’s right. Maybe it would be nice to meet — well, in this case, reacquaint myself with — someone new, but I have to admit a part of me is still thinking about Danny. I don’t look at Kyle and get all quivery. Okay, I get a little quivery when his mouth is on my ear, and I did tell him about the hissers, but if I’m serious about this “new me” crap, I will stay upstairs, drink just one or two more beers, and play catch-up with Gabby, Rachael, and Janine.
I scan the room, then the pool area — looks like Rachael is already half naked in the hot tub. She’s so tall, her boobs bob on top of the water. The other girls don’t look so pleased to see the warrior breasts all wet and perky, but it looks like quite a few guys are stripping down to their underwear to get closer to them. And there’s Gabby in a corner with Kassie; she’s yelling and laughing about some “asshole.” At least she looks like she’s enjoying herself.
Kyle stands up and holds out his hand. “It’s okay, I’ve got Mark’s permission to bring fellow bug lovers down there.”
Why couldn’t Rachael have rescued me from Kassie? Why did she have to send Kyle?
Say no. Say no.
“Okay, we can go down and just talk.” I’m hoping he heard my emphasis on the word talk.
“Sure thing.”
He takes my hand and starts walking. He’s not letting go of my hand, and I’m thinking maybe he didn’t quite get my gist.
I’m still in control, though, and this will be good practice.
We’ll just talk.
Just talk.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
His mouth is hot and wet, kissing my neck, heading down. I realize I’ve been on autopilot. My mouth and hands are doing what they’re supposed to be doing, given the situation, but it’s like it’s not really happening. I don’t feel anything. The noises I’m making are just for show, not the result of any real burst of passion. I wish I could get back in the zone, because it’s too hard to keep up the show now that I’m conscious of doing it. He heads back up to my mouth and nibbles on my lower lip, then over to my ear. He slides his fingers under my waistband and across my stomach.
I’m definitely not feeling the tingle now. I’m feeling nothing, and I want to stop. No, I need to stop this now while I still can.
He’s panting hard on my neck, rubbing himself on my leg, and fumbling with the button of my jeans.
“Wait,” I say, pushing his hands away.
He leans in, kissing my neck, nibbling on my ear. All of a sudden it feels so practiced — like he got his hands on an issue of his sister’s Cosmo and read about the ear thing causing spontaneous orgasms.
His hand makes its way down to the button on my jeans again. “It’s okay.”
I’m not going to do this. I push his hands away again. “I said stop!”
He’s staring at me as if I’m crazy; the whites of his eyes seem to glow in the dark room. I grab my shirt and pull it back on, static crackles through my hair. For a split second I worry about how my hair looks and actually turn away from him and smooth it down.
Oh, God. There are at least three other couples down here in various states of arousal. How had I not noticed them? Where the hell is my bra?
“What’s the problem?” he asks.
I hug my arms around my chest. “I just don’t want to do this. I didn’t want to let things go this far.”
He regains his composure and smiles, putting his hand on my shoulder. He leans in and whispers, “We can go slow. I can go real slow.”
I push him back, feeling the heat radiating off his bare chest. “I don’t even know you.”
He stands up and adjusts his pants. His eyes don’t look so nice now. Is this why I never say no — to avoid this look of contempt?
“That hasn’t stopped you before.”
Now it’s my turn to ice over. “What does that mean?”
I immediately wish I hadn’t asked, because I know exactly what he’s talking about — and I know he isn’t going to be nice when he throws my words back in my face.
Kyle picks up his beer and takes a long swig. “It means you’ve hooked up with some guy at every one of these parties, and everyone knows you’re a sure thing w
ho doesn’t mind that a morning-after phone call will not be forthcoming. If I’d known you were trying to reclaim your virginity, I wouldn’t have listened to your friend when she suggested you needed some fun.” He adjusts the front of his pants again.
Then he reaches down and picks up my bra, tossing it onto my lap. There are tread marks on the cups from his sneakers.
“Well, I guess I’ll go see what’s left from the pickings Mark ordered from your school. It may be too late for the good ones, but in the dark, you all look the same.” He finishes off his beer and slams it down roughly on the end table. “And, for your edification, bugs make my skin crawl.”
He turns and heads up the basement stairs, leaving me sitting in the room filled with moans and wet noises. I cram my bra in my pocket and pull down my shirt to cover the straps that stick out.
“You make my skin crawl,” I whisper, though I know the ugly, squirmy feeling coursing down my spine is all my own doing.
So I sit, the only one not coupled or coupling in the basement. I want to get out of here, but my legs won’t move.
I think I’m just afraid to go upstairs. I wonder what wonderful things Kyle is saying about me — if I’ll get the evil eye from all of Mark’s friends?
I wonder if they’re talking about the “pickings” behaving badly tonight?
What are the chances Janine is ready to go home?
I look out the large picture windows put in to brighten this basement lair, and I see a clump of girls talking at the edge of Mark’s property. They’re in a semi-circle, with their backs to me, but I can tell they’re excited. There’s a lot of hair nipping and head bobbing. It looks like they’re laughing.
They don’t look familiar. One girl is wearing a Sands Point jacket. They must be Mark’s friends. Maybe some girls from Mark’s school are enjoying the pickings from North Shore. One girl turns and heads back to the house and I see him.
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