She poked her chin toward the other side of the room. “Grab the cranberry juice on the third shelf and the margarita mix below that. I like the strawberry one.”
“Won’t your dad notice it missing?” Maybe it was a naïve question, but one I felt obligated to ask.
“Hello-o, don’t worry. He doesn’t even come in here. Besides, we’ll make sure the kitchen staff restocks the missing bottles before we leave. So when you’re done playing the innocent goodie-two-shoes friend, put that down in the kitchen and grab some more. I’ve gotta make calls to all of my seasonal friends.” She pulled a dark brown bottle off of the shelf.
Seasonal friends? What the hell was a seasonal friend? I didn’t know such things existed. I was curious to know the definition. I could only imagine it would read something like this:
sea-son-al friend: [see-zuh-nl frend] A person who fulfills the needy voids of ostentatious people who travel to Aspen in the winter months for binge drinking and snow skiing.
It makes me wonder what adjective she put before my friendship.
I had pulled the last couple of bottles from the “liquor store” and was turning to walk out when I ran into Nick. The bottles squished my chest and his arms swung around me.
“Oh, Ouch! What the—” I stopped.
“Sorry. You okay? I didn’t mean to stand in your way. I was coming in to find Cindy. This is usually her first stop when she gets here.” He backed up and grabbed the bottles from my arms.
“She went to call some of her friends.” I wrapped my arms around my chest and slid my hands into my armpits. I was hoping the sharp pains and numbness would subside.
He walked toward the boatload of booze we had piled on the counter. “Oh yeah, she wants to rage tonight. Let me guess, her dad left her a note, again.”
“Yeah.” I was always good at keeping conversations interesting.
“Seasonal friend calls right?” He put the bottles down.
“What’s with that? Seasonal friends. It sounds so…detached.”
“It’s how she compartmentalizes her life. She doesn’t have to invest in her seasonals. They all do it. It’s different here.”
“What’s up with you then? You’re so different from her.”
“I don’t know how different we really are. She has her agendas and I have mine.” He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled it open, looking at the contents. It seemed ridiculous to stand there with the door wide open when the entire front was made of glass.
“You seem so much more down to earth than her. She always has reasons for what she does; never—just because.” He handed me a Coke.
“We all have skeletons in our closets. Some of us are just better at hiding them behind the hangers filled with clothes.”
“Yeah, right, you don’t seem like the type of guy who has a pile of femur bones stuffed behind your collared shirts and navy blue blazers.”
“How did you know I have navy blue blazers?” He smiled and, for the first time since I stepped foot in their “cabin,” I was comfortable. I cracked the Coke open and took a swig. I actually found myself wishing I was hanging out with him instead of Cindy.
Wish in one hand and spit in the other, see which one fills up faster. That was what my grandpa used to tell me. Even though the thought of it was grosser than gross, I understood what it meant. My grandpa always had little catchphrases like that. That was his way of teaching me life lessons. I could feel it in my bones, this weekend was going to be one of those life lessons.
Cindy strutted into the kitchen. I could tell she was determined and on a mission.
“There you are. Nick, would you call some of your more mature friends? Not that one that walks around hitting on all of my friends. Or the belching one.” She stared through him.
“What about the one that—.”
“What about that Calvin guy? He’s cute and if my friends know he’s coming with some of his friends,” she interrupted him.
“Calvin? His family is in town this weekend. I’ll give him a call but I doubt he’ll come.”
“Whatever; just make it work so we’re balanced with guys.” She went into the liquor room and started shuffling bottles.
“What’s wrong with having more ladies than guys?”
I liked Nick; not in an oh my God, he is so hot way, but in a wow, he’s cool enough to hang out with for the weekend way. Just knowing he was going to be around made the thought of hanging out with Cindy so much easier.
It wasn’t long before the doorbell was ringing and Cindy was downing her second strawberry margarita. She was putting it on real thick for her seasonal friends. Treating Nick like crap, ignoring me, and acting like a total tease to the guys that showed up. I was pretty much done. It wasn’t fun to hang out as wallpaper while she went on and on about how much her life sucked at Wesley. I grabbed my second can of Coke and went upstairs. I figured I could find a quiet room to call Joanie and tell her I arrived safely in Aspen.
It was around the fourth door on the right side when I found a room that wasn’t occupied by people hooking up. I was beginning to think the life lesson for this weekend was “never help with a party where the hostess is a total lush.” I’m not a square. I’ve partied, plenty of times. I just didn’t want to let my guard down with Cindy. I didn’t want to wake up tomorrow to the venomous poison that seemed to spew from her pie-hole so freely up here in Aspen. There you go—that lack of trust thing with me again.
I pushed the door shut and pulled my phone from my pocket. I had one more number to press and hit send when the door flew open and Nick came sauntering in.
“Oh, hey—looks like you found my room.” He had two drinks in his hands.
“Sorry, I didn’t know this was your room. Just wanted to escape the loud noise of American Idol and call my friend. All the other rooms appeared to be taken.” I pushed my phone in my pocket and started to leave.
“You don’t have to go. I know what you mean. I was on my way up here to chill out and escape too. Someone handed me this drink, told me it was a Skip and Go Naked. Would you like it?” He pushed it toward me.
“Skip and Go Naked? Almost sounds like a cheap pick-up line.” I grabbed the drink and looked around the room.
“We could call it Walk Completely Clothed, but that’s a crazy name for a drink. I guess they wouldn’t sell as many if it was called that.” He stood in the middle of the room watching me look at all the pictures of his friends on the wall.
I pointed to a picture thumb-tacked onto the bulletin board above his desk. “Is that you?”
His chest brushed across my shoulder as he pointed with the beer in his hand. “Yeah, and that’s my buddy Calvin. He should be here tonight.” The space between our bodies didn’t exist. Whoa—he was way too close. I backed away from the desk and looked around the room to find something to change the subject.
“High school yearbook?” I pulled it off the shelf and sat on his bed. I figure if I buried my nose in the pages he would get the hint. He came and sat next to me, a completely awkward moment. I didn’t want him to think I was leading him on. Totally not the vibe I was trying to send him.
He took a drink from his beer and set it down. “Yeah, my senior year.” He snatched the book from my lap and thumbed through it then closed it. “Not much to see, just delinquents and punks. And that’s just the girls. The guys are all much worse.” I reached for it and he held it up high in the air.
“What are you afraid of? Scared to let me see the jacked haircut your mom gave you before your senior pictures?” I stood up and reached across him trying to get the book. I felt his hand go around my waist and heard a knock at the door before it swung open. We both froze, expecting to see Cindy in the doorway. It was a relief to see it was someone I didn’t know. Nick twisted around and met him as he came into the room.
“Hey man, how are you? Didn’t know if you were going to make it.” Nick grabbed his hand and they did a guy shoulder-bump handshake. I could never get why guys did that. Maybe a hug was just
too emotional for them.
“Well, I couldn’t miss this one. Heard from the guys there were going to be hot chic—.” The guy looked at me.
“Oh yeah Calvin, this is Wilson. She’s a friend of Cindy’s.”
“Nice to meet you.” He pushed his hand out to me. I shook it. There was something about his eyes.
“You look familiar to me. We’ve met before,” I blurted out, pulling him closer to me. He flinched; I think I scared the life out of him.
“I don’t think so, but it’s nice to meet you.” He let go of my hand and turned to Nick. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought my brother. He’s grabbing a beer.”
“No problem. I didn’t know your brother was in town.” They continued like I wasn’t even in the room. It was better for me anyway, perfect opportunity to escape. I grabbed my drink and headed to the door. I didn’t make it half way there before I was stopped in my tracks.
“There you are bro. Nick, this is my brother Max. Max, this is Nick…and Wilson, right?” I shook my head up and down, my eyes glued on Max. My heart skipped and missed beats as our eyes met. Unbelievable, it was him. Mr. Goldstein, my Max. My mouth was dry as a desert and the pit of my stomach released all the butterflies that were waiting to greet him.
“Nick, nice to finally meet you,” Max said as he shook his hand. Then our eyes met as he reached out and gently grabbed my hand. “My pleasure.” I stared at him, and didn’t say a word.
Calvin shrugged and interrupted, “I didn’t grab a drink, so I’m going downstairs and getting something. Introduce me to the redhead hanging out by the kitchen.” Calvin slapped Nick across the shoulder. Max watched them leave. He turned slowly as his earth green eyes traced the ground to me. I almost couldn’t breathe.
“Wow, I can’t believe you’re here. I had no idea that Calvin was taking me to Cindy Browler’s place.” He looked at me, I still stood tongue-tied. What was I going to say? All the words I’d practiced evaporated in his eyes. He smelled so good, all I wanted to do was touch him.
“Hi, Mr. Goldstein.” Come on Wilson, hold it together. Do not lose it, not in front of him. I had that Naked, Go drink in my hand. Crap, I totally hope he will overlook the underage thing.
“Wilson, please call me Max. We’re not at school.”
He smiled his half crooked smile and his eyes twinkled. “Besides, it makes me feel old. Are you going to drink that?” His hand reached for the long, slender glass filled with the Skip and Go Naked I hadn’t even tasted yet. His fingers brushed and touched mine as they landed in between. He stared into my eyes.
“No, I wasn’t, someone just handed it to me, I swear.” I blinked and looked away.
I was such a baby. What a square. Busted from a government teacher I had the total hots for. Prepare for the lecture, it’s coming. Wait, wait, here it comes.
“What’s it called?” He took the glass from my hand.
“Skip and Go Naked.” He looked at me, smiled, put it to his nose and inhaled.
“May I taste it?”
“Sure. I couldn’t tell you what it tastes like. I haven’t even put it to my mouth.”
I watched him press the drink to his pouty, wet, inviting bottom lip and tilt the glass as the Naked went Skipping down his throat. Holy crap, for the sake of Pete, I wanted to be that drink. His shirt pulled at his bicep as he held the glass to his mouth, his neck exposed, I could swear he was inviting me to press my lips to his throat. I swallowed hard and smacked my lips.
“Not bad. Thanks.” He handed it back to me. He took his hand and ran it through his hair. It fell perfect across his forehead. Frickin’ kill me now, hello, stimulus overload.
“You’re welcome.”
He stared at me, and for a moment, time froze. An exchange of pure magnetism forced its way between us, enchanting me with the possibility of being with him beyond my fanciful thoughts.
“I’d better get back to my brother before I—before he gets into any trouble.” He walked out of the room, leaving me with my half-swallowed Skippin’ Naked.
I wasn’t going to take a drink of the Going Naked Skippin’ but, at this point, I needed something to cool the raging desires that kept catching my breath low in my throat and ripping it out. By the time I looked down at my glass, it was empty and I was feeling numb. I went downstairs to the kitchen and asked the person making the mixed drinks for another Naked Skipper. Funny they seemed to know exactly what I was asking for. Pretty quickly, I had another drink in my hand.
I couldn’t help but look for him. God, he was so everything to me. I would give up food for him. If he told me that I couldn’t eat pizza anymore, I would stop. He had no idea how much power he had over me. That was a scary thought. I was never one of those girls before him. You know the kind: they can’t talk about anything but the guy they’re crushing on. They become obsessed with getting close to them. Holy cow, now that was me! I was the freaky stalker girl. That was the one thing I never wanted to become—obsessed with a guy. I never wanted to let someone hold that type of power over me. Well, I’ve blown that deal. Good thing I didn’t make it with the devil because he would have cashed in and I would be perspiring in hell right now.
“Oh My God Wilson, did you see who’s here?” Cindy staggered over to me.
“Yeah, Mr. Goldstein.”
“How did you know? And where have you been?” she slurred her words.
I hate to assume but I was going to do it anyway. She had to be on her third or fourth margarita.
“I went upstairs to call Joanie.” Which I got sidetracked from and didn’t do.
“I hope she’s not too upset that you’re here with me and she’s not.”
“I didn’t get through to her. I’ll try tomorrow.” I looked past her, trying to find him.
“I can’t wait to tell everyone back in Cali that Mr. Goldstein came to my house to party.” She flipped her hair and swung around.
“Cindy! Wait, you can’t do that.” The pores of my skin opened and I began to perspire. Okay, I was sweating. If she told anyone he was here, then he would lose his job and I would lose my one good reason to stay at Wesley.
“What the hell? Why not? Don’t you see the advantage I have now? No more B’s in his class. I have to say, my “keeping quiet” should be worth a solid A in his class. Maybe even a letter of recommendation to Stanford. Whatcha think?”
I couldn’t tell her what I really thought because, if I did, she would kick me to the snowy curb. But before I could stop myself the words came shooting from my mouth; and the couple of I’m Running Naked drinks didn’t help.
“You’re such a bitch.” She leaned back, her face white as a ghost. “What the hell did you think I would say? Go for it. Nick was right, you are the most self-absorbed, conniving, heartless, demon of a person I have ever met. I don’t think you’re even capable of having a shred of common decency. The fact that you’re willing to blackmail Mr. Goldstein is so frickin’ twisted and pathetic. I can’t stand here and look at your face any longer, I’m out.” I walked away feeling pretty good that I’d released all the angst that had been bubbling in my gut the entire day. I glanced back and she hadn’t moved. She stood there, struck by my words that were as sharp as daggers, and they’d sliced her down to the bone.
I had to find Max and tell him what Cindy was planning. I had to protect him. I couldn’t lose him to her petty, stupid games. I scanned the living room, thinking maybe he was hanging with Nick; but no. I kept walking the entire main floor of the house. I couldn’t find him anywhere; no sign of Nick or Calvin, either. I ended up at the bottom of the stairs. Upstairs was all just bedrooms and bathrooms. My heart fell into my gut. There were alot of really pretty girls here—I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think he was so shallow that he would hook up with a girl he just met. Nevertheless, my feet took my body up the stairs. My heart pounded loudly with each step. I could feel it aching while my mind kept recycling a forged vision of pushing open Nick’s bedroom door and finding Max th
ere with another girl who wasn’t me. I didn’t want to do this, but I had to find him. I reached for the first door knob, twisted it, and pushed the door open.
“Sorry, didn’t know someone was in here.” I looked to see it wasn’t him, then shut the door. One down, three more to go. I twisted the knob on the second door, but it was locked. I knocked, but nobody answered. Great, that was easy and less embarrassing. The third door wasn’t closed all the way and I could hear voices. They sounded like they were talking, so I pushed the door open. It was Calvin with the redhead he was trying to hook up with earlier. They were sitting on Cindy’s bed looking at a photo album.
“Oh, sorry.” I started to pull the door closed.
“HEY YOU, WAIT! It’s Wilma right? Remember me, I’m Calvin, we met earlier—you were with Nick and my brother,” he slurred his words and was way too loud. He’d obviously had too much to drink.
“Yeah, that’s me, but it’s Wilson.” I kept pulling the door shut.
“No, hold on, wait, did you see what you did with my brother? Because I can’t find him, anywhere.” He stumbled forward and threw his hands in the air and looked around at the ground. What a shining example of the privileged elite of our society. I just hope he doesn’t puke on my shoes.
“No, I didn’t see where I put him. But if I stumble across him I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.” I was losing my patience with this guy. He did the, I’m totally wasted stagger dance before he tried to open his eyes to look at me.
“Well, if you happen to remember where you hid him, tell him he’s gonna need to find another ride home tonight. Okay, Wanda?” By this time the redheaded, one-night-stand girl was over grabbing him, helping him stand up.
“No problem, Carson, and my name is not Wilma, Wanda or any other lame W name you come up with. It’s Wilson, W-I-L-S-O-N. Like the frickin’ sports balls you play with.” Calvin looked at me and stumbled back laughing. I slammed the door. If he was going to be my future brother-in-law he’d better learn my name, damn it. He was such a tool.
I’d struck out with the first three rooms. I was relieved and anxious at the same time. Relieved because I didn’t find him in a room with another girl, but anxious because he was nowhere to be found. I stopped in front of Nick’s bedroom door. It was shut but I could hear a group of people laughing and talking over each other. I would have knocked but they were so loud, I doubt they would’ve heard me anyway. So I invited myself in; nobody even noticed. There was a group of guys surrounding Nick’s computer.
The Wilson Mooney Box Set Page 6