I honestly wished I hadn’t asked, but now I had to know the rest. “Why again?”
“Why not?” Blaise said, as if that explained everything. For the record, it did not. “He was a champ, too. The kid puked only once. We didn’t make him eat that.”
“You’re a saint,” I said, but my sarcasm was wasted on these guys. “What does he get out of this?”
Blaise shrugged and looked at his remaining friends. None of them had any answers either. In fact, I was certain that one of them was sleeping with his eyes open. “He gets to hang out with us, I guess.”
“Lucky kid.”
It was probably the end of our conversation anyway, but Blaise caught sight of Urinal Cake talking to a cute junior girl and called for another verse. It started with “My tongue is blue and my face got zits. Now do me a favor and—” I left without waiting to hear the rest.
It was hard to move through the house. There were people lining every wall, dancing in every room, mingling in tight, oblivious groups. Thinking about how many people were in Cassie’s house made my chest tighten. Made it difficult to breath. So I kept moving because it was the only thing to do.
I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to show Cassie that I really loved her, that I loved the real her. Truthfully, I was beginning to believe that maybe Cassie was right and I didn’t know her at all. Before the party I’d have said that Cassie was a funny, sweet, sincere girl who played by the rules but occasionally toed the line. I’d have said that she had a soft spot for losers, a heart-on for Eli, and a sense of self that was unassailable. I’d have told you that I knew who Cassie was because Cassie knew who Cassie was.
That was before the party. Doing things like throwing a barter party in her parents’ absence and dumping Eli and making me take shots to enter the house. Those were not typical Cassie moves. Hell, even that dress she was wearing was very un-Cassie-like. It was almost like she was searching for something. If I knew what it was, I could help her, but I was clueless.
My doubt didn’t deter me, though. In fact, it only strengthened my resolve. I wanted to prove that I loved her no matter who she was.
First, I had to find her again. I ducked into the library, by the front door, which turned out to be a mistake. A handful of Scrabble tiles flew over my head, barely missing me, and hit the opposite wall with a clack.
“Blingy is not a real word!”
“Your mom’s not a real word!”
I scrambled out of the way as one Scrabble player launched himself over the table and tackled another. Chairs tumbled and drinks spilled onto the expensive Oriental rug, and a chant of “Fight, fight, fight!” broke out. It reminded me of watching my grandparents play bridge.
Either way, Cassie wasn’t there, so I retreated across the hall into the living room. It was an intimidating chandeliered room that I’d have been scared to sit in even if my junior high nemesis and his girlfriends weren’t lounging on every available surface, watching a fierce beer pong battle unfold.
Dean nodded at me when I caught his eye. He held out a tightly rolled joint, but I shook my head. “Makes me paranoid,” I said.
Dean took the hit for himself and whispered something to a girl I didn’t know. “Where’s your boyfriend?” he said to me.
“I’m not gay,” I said through clenched teeth. Dean isn’t particularly big or strong, but it’s common knowledge that he’s practically a sociopath. Even Blaise avoided tangling with him. Rumor had it Dean had been expelled from his elementary school in Miami for pulling a knife on the lunch lady over burned turkey casserole.
Dean feigned surprise. “Right. I always get you and those other homos confused.” The big-haired girl on his lap giggled. “You sure some of that queer hasn’t rubbed off on you, Cross? There’s no shame if you like polishing knobs. The world’s all about tolerance and shit now, right, Crystal?”
The girl on his lap mimed a vulgar visual aid.
“Classy,” I said. “You kiss your uncle with that mouth?” I might have been afraid of Dean, but I wasn’t going to take crap from Crystal.
“No,” Crystal said. “I kiss your uncle, and he loves it.”
I did my best to look shocked. Big eyes, jaw drop. The works. “That’s quite a talent since my uncle died when I was two. But hey, necrophilia. I’m betting that’ll look totally bitchin’ on your beauty school application.”
Dean laughed so hard that his face turned three shades of red before Crystal smacked him in the ear. He pushed her out of his lap and gave her a menacing frown. I almost felt bad for the girl.
“You don’t know me,” Crystal said with so much sincerity that I thought for a moment I’d misjudged her. She looked up at me through her lashes and ran out of the room.
Dean punched his right fist into his left hand. “I kinda liked that one. Now we’re gonna have to have a lesson in chivalry and stuff.”
“Leave him alone, Dean,” said a voice from the corner. A familiar voice. A voice that made me cringe.
“Shut up, Aja,” Dean said. He looked as annoyed as I felt, but he relaxed somewhat. “This ain’t your thing.”
Aja rose from the shadows where two friends had been standing in front of her, blocking her from my view. She was rocking these skinny, low-cut jeans and a loose-fitting tee that showed an indecent amount of skin.
“Don’t fuck with me, Kowalcyk.” Aja flicked her words like daggers. “I know your dysfunctional little secret.” She held up her pinkie finger and frowned in a way that only Aja could. The girl didn’t know the meaning of scared.
Dean didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. “My secret wasn’t that little when I was—”
“And I’m out,” I said, turning to leave. I made it as far as the stairs before Aja caught up to me. She pinned me to the banister and snaked her arms around my waist.
“Going so soon, Smoochie?” Aja’s breath was hot on my neck and I did my best to conjure thoughts of that one time I walked in on my Grandma Mary coming out of the shower—all the vaguely recognizable parts sagging in ways that would haunt me for decades. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”
Aja smelled like beer and the perfume I’d given her last Christmas. “Found me,” I said, my voice breaking. “Yay.”
“Don’t act like you’re not happy to see me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said. But Aja always flattered herself. If Crystal Whatsername had a self-esteem deficit, Aja had a surplus. And her surplus was pressed up against my ribs.
I took Aja by the arm and led her outside where the air was cooler and I felt like I could breath.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
Aja smirked. “I’m messing with you, Simon. Obviously, your sense of humor is still as underdeveloped as your—”
“I’m leaving.” I went for the door, but Aja grabbed my wrist and jerked me back to her, latching onto my face with her lips. She had hooks for hands and it took me a couple of seconds to push her away.
“Damn!” I said when I’d regained possession of my tongue. “I’m not into you, Aja. We’re through.”
Aja crossed her arms over her chest, baring her teeth at me. There were only a few people outside, mostly just a group of smokers huddled together by the garage. “It’s Cassie, isn’t it?”
“Aja—”
“It’s always fucking Cassie with you.” Aja’s nostrils flared, and I knew where this was heading. We’d had this fight before. More than once. “That girl isn’t worth the effort you’ve put into chasing after her. We could’ve had something great, Simon.”
I shook my head and tried to reach out to her, but Aja pulled away. “I don’t like you like that,” I said, feeling like a jerk. “Even if Cassie wasn’t in the picture, we wouldn’t have worked out. You know that.”
“For your information, I’m not into you anymore either.” But I could hear the hurt, the hurt I’d caused, and I sort of hated myself for it.
Aja and I had the kind of past I wanted desperately to
forget, but that didn’t mean I could leave her here feeling like shit. So I walked up behind her and put my arms around her. “It was never about you,” I said. I wrapped my arms tighter and let her lean her head against my chest. “You’re a cool girl when you’re taking your meds.”
Aja chuckled. “Dick.”
“So I’ve been told.”
We stood like that until a cough from behind us shattered the moment. Aja let go of my arms and I let go of Aja. Coop stood in the doorway wearing quite the surprised expression.
“Coopster,” Aja said.
“Aja,” he said flatly. He gave me a look that let me know I owed him an explanation later.
“We were only talking,” I said, cramming my words into one breath.
Coop nodded. “Sure.” He stood there like he’d forgotten whatever it was he’d been doing before he saw me with my arms wrapped around Aja like a bow.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
Aja watched us with a bemused expression. She’d never liked Coop, and the feeling had been mutual. She’d gotten along with Ben well enough, but there were few people who couldn’t get along with Ben.
“Right,” Coop said. “You have to come with me. Now.” He narrowed his eyes and motioned toward the back of the house with his head. Whatever was going on clearly didn’t involve my ex-whatever.
“Go,” Aja said. “Before Coop messes his panties.”
“Nice to see you, too, Queen of the Damned,” Coop said. “Come on, Sy.”
As I turned to leave, Aja said, “I hope she breaks your heart.”
Coop practically ran through the house, leading me to the family room, where half the freaking party had gathered around Cassie and Urinal Cake and Blaise. There was no way this was good.
“So you’ll make a freshman drink this crap, but you won’t drink it yourself?” Cassie stood like a superhero, hands on her waist, chest puffed, and the steely glint of justice burning in her eyes. Ben was her trusty sidekick.
The freshman in question looked über-uncomfortable. His devotion to Blaise and his crew was clashing with how badly he didn’t want to drink what was in the cup he was holding.
“It’s just a little fun,” Blaise said. His eyes kept darting to the red cup in poor Urinal Cake’s hand. It was filled to the brim and had unrecognizable chunks bobbing at the top. It nauseated me to look at it and I couldn’t imagine drinking it. Not even for Cassie. “I don’t know why you’re getting all worked up.”
Blaise couldn’t have chosen a worse thing to say to Cassie. The self-righteous ember in her eyes flared. She took the cup from Urinal Cake and held it out to Blaise. “Drink it.”
“No.” The confrontation was spiraling madly out of control. Blaise’s pride wouldn’t allow him to back down, and he wasn’t bright enough to think his way out of the combustible situation. But Cassie should have known better. She had always been the kind of girl who stood up for lost causes, but she wasn’t reckless. She had always known where to draw the line before, but from what I could see, the line was way in the rearview.
Cassie held the cup right up to his face, sloshing some down the front of his white dress shirt. “Drink it, bitch.”
Ben tossed Coop a look that even I could read. He’d sensed the inevitable train wreck we were all in the path of, but was unable to stop it. The other kids hanging around were laughing at Blaise, egging Cassie on, unaware of the potential apocalypse about to be unleashed. Urinal Cake just stood there, staring at Cassie with naked adoration. Coop shrugged helplessly; there was nothing any of us could do.
“What did the blind, deaf kid with no legs get for Christmas?” Ben shouted. He was grasping at straws, but no one was listening.
Blaise turned to his friends, maybe for help, maybe to gauge just how badly they’d torment him on Monday if he walked away. But walking away was never an option. Blaise took the cup from Cassie and held it in the air for everyone to see. More of the rancid brew sloshed over the side, dripping onto his shoes.
“You want me to drink this?” Blaise asked.
Cassie smiled. It was nothing like the smile I’d fallen in love with in freshman anatomy. It was wicked and cruel. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. “You’re going to drink every drop out of that cup, Blaise. And then you’re going to lick the bits stuck to the sides. And maybe that will teach you to pick on people your own size.”
“Cassie, this might not—” Ben started, but Cassie redirected her angry glare onto him for barely a second, and the words turned to dust in his mouth.
Instead of shaming Blaise, all Cassie had done was make him angrier. I wasn’t sure who I felt sorrier for. Urinal Cake was saved for now, but Cassie couldn’t protect him forever.
“You think you’re some kind of badass, Castillo?” Blaise asked. He held the cup at Cassie’s eye level and slowly turned it on its side, letting the foul mixture spill onto the carpet, creating an expanding stain that would surely never come clean. “You’re nothing without Eli. Nobody. On Monday, no one is going to remember that you even exist, you stuck-up bitch.” Blaise poured the last of the drink onto the carpet, tapping the plastic bottom to get out every last drop.
The party went quiet. No music, no talking. I was pretty sure that no one was even breathing for that impossible moment. All eyes were on Cassie, waiting for her reaction. The kids on the patio and the in-betweeners in the kitchen held still. Even the Scrabble guys had paused their game to come bear witness. Ben inched back, out of the line of fire.
I’d like to claim that I rushed to Cassie’s aid. I’m not sure what would have happened if I had. She might have been grateful or she might have seen it as an attempt to undermine her. Only, rescuing Cassie never crossed my mind. Cassie was the hero, not the princess in the tower. It was one of the reasons I loved her so damned much.
But I was still shocked as hell when she clocked Blaise in the nose. Her tiny fist came out of nowhere. There was no warning. Nothing. Just silence and then a single fist of fury.
Blaise clutched his nose, too stunned to fight back.
“Yeah, that’s right!” Cassie shouted. “Who’s the bitch now?”
The moment Blaise’s shock passed, he lunged at Cassie. His buddies were on him before he was able to lay a finger on her. The spell of silence was broken, and the party erupted into motion. Blaise’s friends dragged him out to the patio, Coop and Ben rushed to Cassie and tried to get her under control even as she continued taunting Blaise, and DJ Leo kicked the music back on.
I spotted Eli standing against a far wall, watching. His face showed no emotion. He could have stopped the whole thing. Blaise wouldn’t have challenged Eli.
“A little help here, Simon,” Coop said, and I turned back to where Cassie was trying to convince Coop and Ben that she was calm and didn’t need them to hold her arms. Her eyes told a different story, as they were locked on the French doors Blaise had fled through.
With nothing left to see, the crowd dispersed, lured back to the dance floor.
“Calm the fuck down, bruiser,” Ben said.
“Fine,” Cassie said. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
Ben let Cassie go and stepped off. He held up his hands to protect his face and I’m pretty sure he was only half pretending to be afraid she was going to deck him too.
“You okay?” Cassie asked Urinal Cake. He nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Freddy,” he said. “Freddy Standish.”
Cassie smiled at Freddy. “Don’t let assholes like that push you around. Not ever.”
Freddy beamed. I knew exactly what he was feeling. I knew every emotion that was welling in his young heart. And I was jealous. I admit it. I was jealous of that scrawny, skinny kid that Cassie had rescued from humiliation. But it wasn’t as if Cassie actually liked Freddy. She’d helped him out of pity.
Coop lifted Cassie’s fist, which was still tightly balled up, and said, “Let’s get some ice on this.” He led Cassie into the kitchen with Ben in tow. Freddy and I watched th
e boys nurse Cassie’s bruised knuckles. Coop had gone into full-on mother hen mode, and Ben was already reimagining the story. By the end of the night he’d probably be telling people how Cassie had beaten the shit out of the entire Rendview Warriors football team with one fist behind her back.
“She’s amazing,” Freddy said.
I patted him on the back. “You have no idea.” But I did. Too bad I still wasn’t any closer to proving it.
Reality Bites
Stella and I stood in the middle of the kitchen, watching the party happen around us. Blaise and his friends—whom I mentally organized in decreasing order by IQ—had moved on from their exhilarating game of Bullshit and were now abusing a pathetic freshman they called Urinal Cake for some reason that was blessedly unclear. Their specific method of torture involved making the kid run around and collect drips and drabs from the cups of everyone at the party, which Blaise had declared he was then going to make Urinal Cake drink. As if that wasn’t enough, Blaise and his crew forced him to perform a ridiculous song and dance routine.
I felt bad for poor Urinal Cake. But not bad enough to do anything about it. I had my own problems.
Falcor was pretty much the belle of the ball. Hardly anyone could pass by us without stopping to pet him or coo at him or try to sneak him beer, which Stella discouraged by mentioning that Falcor had a severe gluten allergy and that feeding him anything with wheat would result in massive quantities of toxic diarrhea spewing from his tiny butt in a matter of minutes. It worked like a charm.
Stella and I made small talk, but I think we were both killing time, stalling, trying to figure out how to fulfill our respective ends of the bargain. The barter had seemed like a great deal at the time—I’d find a guy for Stella to share her first real kiss with and she’d help me with Cassie—but in practice, it turned out to be far more difficult.
Part of the problem was that Stella didn’t know anyone at the party. She didn’t go to Rendview and it turned out she’d lived in town for only a couple of years. So she had an excuse, whereas I should have been able to find her a guy in the time it took for Urinal Cake to sing his little song. Stella was a cute, funny girl with red hair and a blind dog. Who wouldn’t want to get with her? The trouble was that while I knew a lot of guys at Rendview, I didn’t actually have a lot of friends outside of Ben and Coop. And neither of them was Stella’s type.
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