by Sparling,Amy
Of course this won’t be an easy escape. I put on a smile and lie to my dad. “He’s like, really nerdy, Dad. Meeting parents kind of terrifies him. I wouldn’t want him to pee himself from fright before we go hang out with our friends.”
Dad chuckles. “He’s just a friend?”
I curl my lip as if the idea of dating this pretend nerdy guy is gross. “Definitely just a friend.”
“Okay, well have fun.”
I bite back the guilt I feel over continually lying to my dad and head out the door. Kris is waiting in his truck for me and I slip inside. He smells clean, like he’s freshly showered and used a little too much body wash.
“Sup?” he says as he reaches over and squeezes my thigh.
“So where are we going?”
“Rudy’s house up on Parlor Lane. You know Rudy?”
I know of him. He’s a football player, I think. African American and super hot. “Yeah,” I say. “I mean, not really, we aren’t friends or anything but—”
“Dude, chill,” Kris says with a laugh. “You’re going with me so you’ll get in, no questions asked.”
I settle back against the truck seat, feeling less nervous with every second that passes. Kris and I are going to this party together. It should be fun.
Rudy’s house is about twice the size of my dad’s already large house. Most of the party is in the back yard since the weather is pretty nice now. There’s probably fifty people here, most of them from our school and some of them I’ve never seen before. Kris doesn’t hold my hand, but he gets me a red plastic cup of beer and introduces me to his friends.
They all already know who I am, because of the list. Luckily, they don’t mention it.
Rudy’s back yard is practically engineered to be the perfect party zone. He has a pool and a huge patio and a sound system that can be heard from the house and the outside. I don’t see any adults anywhere, but I’m smart enough not to ask about that kind of thing. I think the prude in me is officially gone.
I spend an hour or so standing next to Kris, hoping to get his undivided attention so we can talk and get to know each other more. It’s kind of a total failure.
He spends the whole time talking sports with his friends, or video games, or other stuff I don’t care about. The only nice thing is that no other girls are hanging all over him. It makes me feel special to be his date tonight, even if I’m not getting much alone time with him.
Kris brings me another beer. Except, it’s not.
“What is this?” I ask, looking at the three inches of amber liquid in the cup. It’s not foaming at the top like my last beer.
Kris tips his red cup to his lips and downs it all in one gulp. “It’s whiskey,” he says, tapping his cup to mine. “It’ll loosen you up.”
“I’m already pretty loose,” I say with a laugh. Since tonight I had my second beer ever, I have like no tolerance built up. I’m already feeling the effects of the alcohol. My body is already loose, and everything seems a little funnier.
He leans forward and gives me that sultry gaze of his. “Just drink it. Down it all fast or it’ll taste gross.”
I stare into the cup. It sure seems like a lot of liquor, but I can’t be a prude about this. I close my eyes and gulp.
And damn is it gross. It burns my mouth and my throat and even my lungs. I blanch and it makes Kris laugh.
Soon, the whole world is spinning. I can’t understand the words his friends are saying. Everything is blurry and moving and weird. I spot a lawn chair a few feet away, but when I go to walk toward it, I stumble and fall into a concrete vase.
“Whoa.” Kris pulls me up and I wrap my arms around him, hoping to make the world stop spinning. Someone says something but I have no idea what it is. “Come on,” Kris says. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
I think one of his friends whoops or something, but I don’t know. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other while holding onto Kris’s arm.
“I’m dizzy,” I say. My voice is distant and airy. It doesn’t really sound like mine.
“I can tell,” Kris says. He leads me into the house, which feels super cold compared to the warm air outside. Everything goes dark as he takes me into a hallway. There’s no one partying in this part of the house. I’m in a daze as Kris leads me into a bedroom and closes the door behind us. This looks like a girl’s room, maybe even a little kid. But all the stuffed animals on the bed are spinning so I can’t make sense of them.
“Sit down,” Kris says. I plop onto the foot of the bed and it feels like the first solid surface I’ve felt in weeks. The room is still spinning, but at least I’m not standing anymore.
Kris sits next to me, running a hand down my side and then up to my boobs. “I don’t feel good,” I say.
“You’ll be fine.” Kris shifts around, then pulls me up until I’m sitting with my feet dangling off the end of the bed. “Here,” he says, putting my hand over his erection. “You do me and I’ll do you next.”
“Huh?” I look up, then my eyes land on what he’s making me hold. “A blow job?” I groan. “Why don’t we cuddle instead?”
He laughs. “Come on, baby. We’ll cuddle after.”
“Let’s cuddle first,” I say, giggling uncontrollably. I’m not sure what’s so damn funny, maybe it’s that huge poster of a unicorn on the wall.
“Baby, you can’t just give me blue balls. Don’t be a bitch like that.” He grabs my shoulder and pulls me down until I’m nearly face to face with it. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
I look up at him and purse my lips together. “Then we cuddle?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
Drunken blow jobs are a lot harder than normal ones. But Kris is right, soon he’s finishing and that salty gross taste is in my mouth.
“You’re getting so good at that,” he says.
I fall onto the bed, stretching out my sore neck and hands. “Cuddle time,” I say in a sing song because the liquor is making be kind of stupid.
“In a minute,” he says. He leans over and kisses my cheek. “Be right back.”
I nod and close my eyes to stop the room from spinning. It feels so good lying here on this comfortable mattress in this room that smells like rose petals. Soon, I give in to the weighty feeling behind my eyes and fall asleep waiting for Kris to come back.
***
A loud sound wakes me. I’m in a strange room, lying diagonally across someone’s bed. There’s cheering and hollering coming from down the hall and I suddenly remember where I am. My mouth tastes gross and the room is spinning. My stomach twists into knots.
“Kris?”
The room is empty. Light filters in from under the bedroom door. I pat my pockets and find my cell phone. The screen is so bright it hurts my eyes. I call Kris, but he doesn’t answer.
With a pounding headache, I stand up on shaky legs and walk to the door, pulling it open. I have to pee. And maybe throw up.
I amble down the hallway, noticing a ton of people in the living room to my right. They’re all partying and having a good time. So why am I alone?
I find the bathroom, stumble inside, and hurl up all that liquor I drank. When I’m finished, I sit up and realize there’s someone else in here. A girl I don’t know stands in front of the sink, a tube of lipstick in her hand. “Gross,” she says, rolling her eyes as she caps her lipstick and leaves me in here to sulk in private.
I feel like total shit but I manage to go over and close the bathroom door and lock it. This bathroom is huge. Rich people sure have nice lives.
I stare at my phone. I know I shouldn’t but…I call Jonah.
He doesn’t answer either. It’s twelve-thirty at night and I’m all alone in a bathroom of a house filled with people I don’t really know. Maybe I should just find Kris.
But he left me. He got a blow job from me and then he left me, drunk and alone.
My chest aches as I call Dana.
She also doesn’t answer.
I rin
se my mouth out in the bathroom sink and then venture out into the hallway, but I don’t get very far before the little girl’s bedroom calls to me again. I just need to rest a little longer. Maybe Kris will be back soon.
Falling back asleep is easy. Soon, I’m woken up by a warm hand sliding down my back. “Zoey,” he whispers. His hands move to my boobs, sliding down my tank top and bra until they’re hanging out.
I open my eyes and wince as he grabs them too hard. “There you are,” he says. “You’re finally awake.”
I look up into blue eyes, dark hair, and muscled arms.
“Alex?” I say, jolting awake. “What are you doing here?” I grab my shirt and tug it back up in place, tucking my boobs back where they belong.
“I hear you’re not such a prude anymore,” he says. “I came to see if you want to redeem yourself.”
I stand up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but—”
Alex shoves me in the shoulder and I fall butt first back onto the bed. He unzips his pants and steps toward me, his eyes gazing at me in this hungry way. “I hear you’re good with that tongue,” he says, his voice low and raspy.
I shake my head, and that’s a bad idea because it makes me twice as dizzy. “You put me on the Dis List,” I say as he gets closer and reaches his hand into his boxers. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“I can get your name off the list,” Alex says. His penis is just as eager as Kris’s always is. I wonder if teenage guys just have constant boners. “Do it or I’ll make your life worse than I already have.”
“I just threw up,” I say. “You want that on your thing?”
He chuckles. “Your hand will work just fine.”
I shake my head to disagree, but then he’s sitting on the bed next to me, and his arm is on my leg, holding me in place. Once again, he makes me grab his erection, just like in the movie theater, only now it’s hanging out of his jeans.
I hate this. I hate every second of it. I wish Dana were here. I wish I had the strength and sobriety to walk out of here and run home, but I can’t. In the back of my mind, I know I’ll be pissed if he keeps mocking me at school, so I do it.
I grit my teeth and do exactly what Kris has taught me.
When he’s finished, he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t thank me. He doesn’t say anything.
I’ve never felt so shitty in my life.
Chapter 25
I wake up needing to puke again. This time I don’t wander around, I head straight for the bathroom. Music thumps in the distance, along with the mechanized sounds I recognize as someone playing a video game. I wonder if Kris is out there, game controller in hand, having a good time? Does he know where I am?
When I finish puking, I flush the toilet and rinse my mouth out. I don’t know whose bathroom this is normally, but there’s a tube of toothpaste on the counter. I squeeze some on my finger and then rub it around my mouth, mostly to get the stench of alcohol and stomach bile out of my mouth. I rinse out my mouth some more and spit.
Then I look up at my reflection in the mirror. My ponytail has halfway fallen out. My mascara is smudged around my eyes, which have dark circles under them.
I remember the way Alex grabbed the back of my head and it makes me want to throw up again. I reach back and yank out the hair tie, then redo my hair in a high messy bun.
Once I’ve collected myself, I realize I don’t feel nearly as drunk as I did before. Still drunk, though. I find my phone in my back pocket and check the time. It’s after three in the morning, and I have five missed calls.
Four from Jonah, and one from Dana.
My finger hovers over the screen to click on Dana’s name, but then I realize I can’t let her see me like this.
So I call Jonah. He probably won’t answer. It’s three in the morning, after all.
“Hello? Zoey?” He picks up after the first ring. “What’s going on?”
“Hey,” I say, realizing I’ve been standing in this dark hallway next to the bathroom door. I go to walk toward the sound of the music, but a wave of nausea and dizziness falls over me. “It’s me,” I say into the phone as I grip it to my ear.
I stumble forward and press my hand onto the wall to steady myself.
“Where are you? Are you okay?” Jonah says, along with other questions I can’t make out because it takes all my energy to slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor.
“I’m at some party. Rudy’s party,” I say, remembering the name of the guy who lives in this house. I wonder where he is now. If I found him, he’d probably take me home because he’s a nice guy.
“Rudy’s?” Jonah says. “Have you been drinking?”
This makes me laugh. “Yeah.”
“Who are you with?”
“No one.”
“I’m on my way,” he says.
“Why?” My face kind of hurts when I crumple it up. “The party is pretty much over unless you want to play video games.”
“Just sit tight.” The call ends and I stare at my screen, looking at Jonah’s name on my call log. I should just find Kris and have him bring me home.
I push up on my feet and stumble along the carpeted hallway, my hand on the wall for support.
In the living room, there are a few guys playing Xbox just like I had assumed. None of them are Kris. Some guy is making out with a girl on the couch and across from them, two girls are kissing, their shirts off. The lights are low, only lamps are on, not the overhead lights. It makes me want to sleep. Some people actually are sleeping, passed out on the floor or in the arm chairs. From the kitchen, some girl laughs really loud and there’s the sounds of someone playing ping pong or something outside.
I don’t think anyone even looks at me as I make my way to the front door and pull it open. A blast of warm air hits my face, the humidity making it all sticky and gross.
I gaze around the big U-shaped driveway, grimacing when my stomach rumbles. Luckily, I don’t throw up.
I don’t see Kris’s truck anywhere. What a fucking asshole.
Anger builds in me and I go to my text messages, looking to see if maybe he told me he was leaving and I missed it.
Nope, he didn’t.
My jaw clenches and I sit on the porch steps that lead to Rudy’s massive house. I don’t even know what to do right now. I’m stranded, I’m drunk, and I gave two blow jobs tonight.
Who am I?
Shame overwhelms me as I lean my head against the wooden railing and close my eyes.
I must have fallen asleep again because someone is saying my name. A warm hand grabs my shoulder and my eyes flicker open.
Jonah.
“Zoey, wake up.”
“I’m awake,” I mutter. “Where am I?”
“Can you stand?”
I swallow but my mouth is dry. And my ass is numb. I look down and find that I’m sitting on stairs, my side leaned up against a wooden railing. Everything hurts.
Then I’m moving, and Jonah is picking me up. I hold onto him, my arms around his neck, while he carries me down the driveway and to the car he shares with his mom. He smells like coffee.
Jonah carefully sets me down on my feet, then he opens the passenger door. I make my way into the seat and somehow manage to get my seatbelt buckled. Now that I’m with Jonah, I don’t feel as scared or helpless.
“Where do you live?” Jonah asks.
I give him Dad’s address and send up a prayer that Dad’s asleep and won’t know when I get home. There’s no way I can try to act not drunk around my own dad.
“Did I wake you up?” I ask as Jonah backs out of the driveway.
“No, I was at the diner.”
“At three in the morning?” I ask. The metal angel hanging from the rear view mirror glints under the spotlights. I focus on watching it because if I look away, I get dizzy.
“My mom works overnight on the weekends,” he explains, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. “Sometimes drunk guys show up
late and give her a hard time. There’s no manager on duty after midnight so I like to hang out and make sure no one messes with her.”
“It’s nice that you take care of her,” I mumble, still watching the angel.
“She’s my mom. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
I turn sideways in the chair and gaze up at him. “And now you’re saving me.”
He grins. “Call me Prince Charming.”
Chapter 26
There was one thing I didn’t think to put on my original anti prude list, but it definitively should have been there.
Get a hangover.
Because that’s exactly what I’ve given myself. Saturday morning’s sunlight streams in my windows making my headache feel a thousand times worse. I get out of bed, stumble toward the curtains and pull them closed, all while my head feels like it’s being smashed on all sides with Thor’s hammer.
The only good thing about my terrible night was that Dad never knew how late I got home because he was asleep, like I’d hoped. I managed to sneak inside, tip toe to my room and pass out in my own bed without him knowing a thing.
But I’m paying for my sins now, that’s for sure. I feel like total and complete shit.
When Dad knocks on my door around noon, I know I won’t be able to get up and hang out with him. I’m also not telling him I have a hangover.
So I lie again.
Dad’s brows pull together as he looks at me from the doorway. “You okay?”
“Not really,” I say, putting on a dejected face. “I think I’m getting sick. I have a headache and a sore throat and my stomach hurts.”
I added that sore throat bit so it’d sound like I had a cold and not a hangover in case he happens to get suspicious.
“That’s no good. I was hoping to hit the diner for our new tradition.” Dad says. “Besides, every student knows the cardinal rule of being sick…”
I give him a questioning look. He grins. “You’re supposed to get sick on Mondays so you can skip school.” He winks and then tells me to let him know if I need anything. Then he lets me lay in bed all day.