From This Moment

by Lauren Barnholdt

  I want to point out that she did look in his phone and maybe she is being a little crazy, but obviously that wouldn’t be helpful.

  Colin returns then and sets our drinks down in front of us. “There you go,” he says. “Two drinks for two beautiful ladies.”

  “Thanks,” Izzy says distractedly, like she’s used to getting called beautiful.

  “Thanks,” I say, sliding my drink closer to me.

  “So listen,” he says, “what are you guys doing tomorrow night?” He says “you guys,” but he’s looking at me.

  “I have plans,” Izzy says quickly. “But Aven’s free.”

  I am? She does?

  “Cool,” Colin says. “Well, if you want, a bunch of us are going on this sunset cruise.” He picks my phone up from where I’ve set it on the bar and calls himself so I’ll have his number in my call history. “Text me, and I’ll give you the info.”

  He winks at me again, and then disappears to the other side of the bar, where the twentysomething couple starts asking him something about their drinks.

  “Oh my God,” Izzy says. “He wants to take you on a date.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” I say. But maybe he does. I mean, what’s so weird about that? I’m kind of cute and very charming, and people have told me I’m really good at witty banter.

  “Yeah, he does. And you should go. You need to have some fun in your life.” She sighs. “Not like me. I have problems.” She grabs my arm again, like she did earlier when we were in the bathroom at the airport. “You need to find out about this Annabelle for me, Aven. Liam will tell you. He tells you everything.”

  “Obviously not,” I say. “Since he hasn’t told me about her yet.”

  “Yeah, but he will. You just have to ask him.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll just be like, ‘Hey, Liam, do you know anyone named Annabelle? Just you know, out of curiosity.’”

  “You could tell him you looked in his phone,” Izzy says slowly.

  “Izzy!” I say, shocked that she would even suggest such a thing. “But I didn’t.”

  “No, I know,” she says, waving her hand like it was a joke, even though I think she was half hoping I’d go for it. “I was just kidding.” She takes in a deep breath, and then she starts crying again. “I just can’t believe he might be cheating on me,” she says. “I mean, I knew things were a little weird between us, but I never—I didn’t—I didn’t think he WOULD DO THAT!”

  “Okay, okay,” I say, putting my arm around her. “I’ll try to figure out a way to ask him.”

  “You will?” she asks, sniffling.

  I pick another napkin up off the bar and hand it to her. She blows her nose loudly. “Yes,” I say. “I’ll try to figure out a way.”

  “Thanks, Aven,” Izzy says. “You’re a really good friend.”

  Yeah.

  A really good friend.

  A really good friend who’s in love with your boyfriend.

  SIX

  OKAY.

  This doesn’t have to be that hard.

  Izzy was right when she said that Liam tells me everything. Or at least, he usually does. So all I have to do is ask him some leading questions about what’s happening in his life, and hope that maybe he’ll bring up this whole Annabelle thing on his own. I mean, I don’t have to come straight out and ask if he’s cheating. I’m sure there are a million different ways to get it out of him. I’ll just use my witty banter.

  Of course, first I have to get him alone.

  And Liam has other ideas.

  He calls me later that afternoon, just as I’m finishing a long shower in which I was attempting to wash the salt water out of my hair and the sand off my body. I never knew how much sand could end up all over you after some time at the beach. It’s really a miracle that any of it even stays on the beach, what with the way it just clings to people. Unless I’m some kind of sand magnet. Or sand trap. (Get it? Witty banter, ha-ha.)

  “Where have you been?” Liam asks when I answer. “I’ve been texting you.”

  “Sorry, I was in the shower,” I say. I’ve wrapped myself in a towel, but my hair is still soaking wet, and it’s dripping all over the bathroom floor. Something tells me Lyla and Quinn aren’t going to be too happy about me messing up the common areas. I grab another towel off the rack that’s hanging on the wall and drop it on the floor. I push it around with my foot, trying to mop up the water.

  Hmm. The towel is getting kind of soaked. And dirty. I wonder what Quinn and Lyla would be madder about—the floor being wet, or me using up all the towels. We can probably get more from housekeeping, but still. Hopefully I won’t be here when they come back and realize what I’ve done to the bathroom.

  “Oh,” Liam says. “Nice mental picture.”

  “Whatever,” I say automatically, the way I do whenever Liam says something that could be construed as flirting.

  “Anyway, what are you doing tonight?” he asks. “Juliana Peters is having a party in her room.”

  “Juliana?” I say warily. I don’t know much about her, except that she talks in the third person and is always screaming in the halls at school, like moving between rooms is something to get worked up about.

  “Yeah, I know,” Liam says. “But there’s going to be beer. And then afterward we can meet up with Izzy and her dance team. They’re going to walk the beach at midnight.”

  “I don’t know,” I say slowly. “I mean, isn’t that something you and Izzy might want to do alone?” Talk about being a third wheel.

  “No,” he says. “Her whole team is going to be there, looking for constellations. Ten giggling girls looking at stars sounds like a particularly horrible kind of torture, but Izzy really wants me there.” He pauses, and I don’t say anything.

  Obviously the only reason Izzy wants Liam there is so she can make sure he’s not with someone else. But then why doesn’t Izzy just cancel her stupid midnight walk with her dance team and spend time with Liam? And why is Liam inviting me anyway? Is he trying to use me so that whenever he’s around Izzy, he can tell Annabelle I was there, too, like some kind of insurance policy?

  It’s annoying the way they both might be using me for personal gain. Or relationship gain. Whatever you want to call it, it’s irritating. Why should I have to be a part of their secrets and lies?

  “I’ll go to the party,” I say. “But I don’t feel like doing the beach walk.”

  “Why not?”

  “I dunno,” I say. “It just doesn’t sound that fun.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s going to be so fun. We can take pictures and then later I can force you to read some stupid book about astronomy. Or even better, a novel with a main character who’s an astronomer from the nineteenth century or something.”

  “You just said it was going to be torture.”

  “No, I said if you left me alone with ten girls it was going to be torture.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “But I actually have plans with, ah, Gabby Ronson. You know, from the Student Action Committee?”

  “At midnight?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “At midnight.”

  There’s a pause, like maybe Liam wants to say something else. But he must change his mind, because a second later, he says, “Okay. So I’ll just see you at the party then?”

  “Sure,” I say. “Just text me the room number and time.”

  “Done.”

  The thing about high school parties is that if you’ve been to one, you’ve pretty much been to them all. There’s always a bunch of guys doing something ridiculous, like getting crazy drunk and peeing in someone’s refrigerator, or stealing someone’s parents’ checkbook, or going outside and throwing people’s lawn chairs into the pool.

  Everyone’s drinking cheap beer, because we usually have to pay someone to buy it for us. It’s either that or steal it from our parents, and if we do that, we can’t take anything good because then they’ll end up noticing it’s gone.

  When I say “we,” I really mean “they,” because e
ven though I’ve been to more parties than I can count, I don’t really drink. I don’t get the point of it, really. You drink a lot and then you just end up feeling sick and like you want to throw up? I get the idea of wanting to have a good buzz, get stuck right in that place where you feel woozy and happy and relaxed. But no one at these parties ever stops there. They can’t, because you never know when a party is going to get broken up.

  It’s actually pretty pathetic, really, when you think about it.

  The sad thing is, I’m not sure college is going to be any better. At least from what I’ve seen in the movies.

  When I get to Juliana’s room, it takes my eyes a second to adjust to the darkness. The sun has gone down, and apparently no one’s thought to turn on any lights.

  Juliana is twirling around in the middle of the room, a beer in her hand. She doesn’t look like she’s at all worried about getting caught partying in her room. In fact, she looks happy and relaxed. She’s probably going to be sick later. Oh, well. I’ve never been friends with Juliana, so not my problem.

  I spot Liam over in the corner, by the little kitchenette, talking with Jeff Hearne. I hesitate, not sure exactly what to do. I don’t really know Jeff that well, and so it feels weird to just walk up and intrude on their conversation.

  But I don’t have to worry about it for long, because Liam meets my eye across the room and motions me over. When I get to him, Jeff wanders off, muttering something about how there are no hot girls at this party. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not, since he hardly even looked at me, but whatever.

  “Hey,” Liam says, his face lighting up into a smile. He’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a red long-sleeved shirt. His hair is damp, like he just got out of the shower. He smells like soap and a touch of cologne and his face is tan from the beach and I can see a tiny place on the side of his neck where he nicked himself shaving and he looks so hot I can hardly take it.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “You want something to drink?”

  “Is there soda?”

  He picks one up from the table next to him and hands it to me. “I snagged it for you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, popping the top and taking a sip.

  “This party is lame,” Liam says, looking around.

  “Well, it’s stupid to have a party in a hotel room,” I say. “We’re at the beach. We should be partying outside.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t drink outside,” Liam points out.

  “Which is why this whole party is a joke. I can’t believe people would rather stay inside just to get drunk instead of being outside in the fresh air.”

  “Yeah.” Liam takes a sip of his drink, and I realize he’s drinking Sprite. Not that Liam’s a huge drinker, but he’ll usually have a beer or two, especially since he knows I’m always willing to drive him home.

  “You’re not drinking?” I ask.

  “Nah.” He swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. He doesn’t offer any other information, which is weird.

  “How come?” I ask.

  “Just don’t feel like it.” Hmmm. Is he not drinking because he’s afraid he’s going to get a little sloppy and let something slip about Annabelle to Izzy? Maybe this is my opening! Maybe I can push Liam a little about why he’s not drinking, get him to admit something.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “I just don’t.” He sounds slightly annoyed. “What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I say. “It’s just that you usually have a beer, so I just figured you’d have one tonight. You know, since it’s vacation and all.”

  “Yeah, well, people are doing a lot of things they don’t usually do just because it’s vacation.”

  I frown. The statement is confusing—it’s like a double negative or something. Is he trying to say people aren’t being themselves on vacation because he’s trying to justify the fact that he’s not drinking? Maybe he’s just looking for a way to start confiding in me about Annabelle. Maybe he’s not worried about making sense because he just wants an opening.

  “What do you mean?” I ask gently.

  “Nothing.” He shrugs and takes another sip of his Sprite. “Just that you’re doing things you wouldn’t normally do, either.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like what?” This is shocking. I haven’t done anything I wouldn’t normally do since, like, fifth grade.

  “Nothing,” he says. “Just forget it.”

  “No, I don’t want to forget it,” I say. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Well, obviously it is, if you brought it up.”

  “It’s just that you usually aren’t the type to hook up with random guys.”

  “Random guys? What are you taking about?” I look down at the Sprite in his hand, wondering if maybe someone spiked it with something. I wish I had that new nail polish, the one that lets you see if someone’s slipped a drug into your drink. You dip your finger in and if your nail turns dark, it means your drink was spiked. If I was wearing it, I’d dip it right into Liam’s Sprite, no questions asked.

  “That guy you met today on the beach. The bartender.”

  “Oh.” I swallow. “How did you know about that?”

  “Izzy told me.”

  “Oh,” I say again. “What did she tell you?”

  “Just that you were flirting with some tool on the beach and you gave him your number and you guys are going out tomorrow night. Which, by the way, was supposed to be the night we went to Discovery Cove, but whatever.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to Discovery Cove because of the way they treat the dolphins.”

  “We’re not.”

  “Okay.”

  Liam seems agitated. He’s gazing out across the party, not even really looking at me. He tilts his head to the side and taps his foot to the music that’s coming from the speakers in the corner.

  “Are you . . . I mean, are you mad at me about something?”

  “No. It’s just weird that you wouldn’t have mentioned meeting some guy on the beach, that’s all.”

  “It just happened,” I say. “Like, two hours ago. And there was nothing to really tell. I met a guy, he asked for my number.”

  “What kind of guy invites a girl he doesn’t know on a cruise? It sounds shady, Aven, and I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t even know him,” I say. But then I stop and shake my head. This conversation is getting out of control, and honestly, there’s no reason for it. It’s a dumb thing to fight about. Liam’s just worried about me, which is totally understandable. And besides, who knows what Izzy told Liam about Colin? She probably made it out like he was some sex-crazed maniac inviting me back to his drug lair or something.

  “You’re defending some guy you just met?” Liam asks.

  “What? No. I’m not defending anyone.” I take a deep breath. “Look, he’s just some guy I met on the beach. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it, but I didn’t think it was important. And you know I would never do anything stupid, Liam. I would never put myself in a situation where I might be in danger, and honestly, it’s a little insulting that you think I would.”

  Liam finally turns to look at me, and for a second, no, not even a second, maybe a half a second, I feel like I see something flash in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before.

  Jealousy.

  But that’s crazy. Could Liam really be jealous of me and another guy?

  But then it’s gone, and his face softens and he’s back to being the Liam I know, the strong and steady friend who’s always been there for me.

  “You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have given you a hard time. I was just worried about you, and I didn’t like that you didn’t tell me. It felt weird, like you were hiding something.”

  “I wasn’t hiding anything,” I say. “It was a nonissue. Honestly, it didn’t even register as something worth mentioning.”

&n
bsp; “But are you going out on the boat with him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So you’re considering it.” He sounds annoyed, which makes me annoyed. Why are we even fighting about this? Who cares if some guy asked me to go on a cruise with him?

  “Why are we fighting about this?” I ask, and I can hear the annoyance in my voice now, which pisses me off because I can’t believe I’m getting worked up over something so stupid.

  “Because you didn’t tell me that some sleaze was hitting on you, and I don’t like it.”

  “He wasn’t sleazy!”

  “Now you’re defending him again?”

  “You know what,” I say, really worked up now, “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation. Especially when you don’t feel the need to tell me things, either.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You keep things from me, too, Liam, and I don’t give you this kind of shit about it.”

  “What do I keep from you?” he asks. His voice is measured, like he’s trying hard to keep this from blowing up into a huge thing, but it’s also guarded, like he’s afraid I might have found something out. Which I have. But to admit that wouldn’t be fair to Izzy, because then I’d have to explain exactly how I know about Annabelle.

  “Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “Just forget it.”

  “Sure,” he says. “Let’s just forget it.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  We stand there for a minute or two, not saying anything, just watching the people at the party. And then I start thinking about how I only came to this stupid party because Liam wanted me to and how he has some secret girl on the side that he’s not even telling me about.

  So I put my soda down on the table and say, “You know what? I’m not feeling that great. I think I’m going to go.”

  I want him to ask me what’s wrong, I want him to tell me not to go, or that the party is lame and he’ll leave with me, but he doesn’t say any of that. Instead he just shrugs and says, “Okay.”

  I’m halfway to the door when I think about turning back and telling him I’m sorry. I have no reason to really be upset with him—it’s a stupid misunderstanding, and whatever he has going on with this Annabelle girl honestly has nothing to do with me. It’s between him and Izzy. He’s not my boyfriend, he never has been, and if he wants to cheat on his girlfriend and not tell me about it, then that’s his business.