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Saving Wishes

Page 25

by GJ Walker-Smith


  ***

  The next week at school was brutal. Hallway conversations about the Tate twin’s upcoming party were loud and inescapable. Everywhere I turned, girls were discussing dresses and dates. Boys were discussing booze availability and dates. The other topic dominating conversation was Blake genealogy. Those conversations weren’t loud. They were whispered and muted the instant the gossipers realised I was within earshot. It made no difference. I heard everything.

  Out of the hundreds of opportunities I had to set the record straight, I never took one. I was definitely off my game.

  Gabrielle graciously offered to lend me a dress for the party. Totally unenthused, I left choosing an outfit until the very last minute. I hadn’t been to the cottage in weeks. There was no need. Being there wasn’t uncomfortable, just different, and I walked out of there with a cute black satin dress, matching shoes and a weird empty feeling.

  Mitchell picked me up right on time. Alex laid down the law about having me home at a reasonable hour, taking far too much pleasure in intimidating him. Boy-wonder-with-the-mad-translating-skills never copped the same lecture. Adam wasn’t scared of him like Mitchell was.

  I doubt Alex was remotely concerned about me attending the party with Mitchell. To him, it would have been a sure-fire sign that I was moving on. I was fine. Adam was gone and I was fine. That was the façade I’d worked hard to maintain. It was one of my most convincing lies ever.

  It turned out that Alex wasn’t the only one with rules for the night. I had a few of my own, and most of the ride to the Tate vineyard was spent spelling them out.

  “Don’t leave me alone with your sisters,” I warned.

  “Don’t leave me alone with my sisters – or Lisa,” he retorted.

  “Can’t you just tell her you’re not interested?”

  “I have. At first I was nice about it, and then I was mean about it. She’s convinced she can change my mind.”

  “Jasmine is spurring her on.”

  “Yes she is,” he despairingly agreed.

  I had only ever been able to deal with Jasmine in short bursts. I couldn’t imagine how Mitchell coped with being her twin. Perhaps that was his motivation for traveling.

  The Tate estate was arguably the grandest property in town. I’d never been inside the huge main house, and that wasn’t about to change. The party was to be held in one of the cedar outbuildings set among the lines of vines. By day it was a wine tasting centre and barrel room open to the public. Tonight it was by invitation only. As we walked across the car park I could see they were actually checking invitations at the door.

  “Who’s that?” I whispered, watching a tuxedoed man practically frisking guests as they entered.

  “Ugh! Jasmine’s idea. Everyone’s been hired. Caterers, bar staff, a band…”

  “Friends?”

  Mitchell laughed. “Some friends have probably been rented…or coerced.” He quickly glanced across at me, smiling sheepishly.

  “Not me,” I told him, letting him off the hook.

  “No?” He sounded surprised.

  “No. I’m here of my own free will.”

  Mitchell sighed despondently. “I wish I could say the same, Charli.”

  I could tell he was dreading it. If I’d suggested leaving, he wouldn’t have argued. But I didn’t. A few hours at a party hosted by the Beautifuls weren’t likely to kill me. I’d endured far worse where they were concerned.

  At first I’d wondered if the strapless dress with the full skirt Gabrielle had lent me was too dressy. I needn’t have worried. Everyone was dressed to the nines, including Nancy. The ugly little dog wore a big silver bow around her balding neck. The Beautifuls were overloaded with ruffled taffeta. Jasmine wore hot pink while Lily epitomised bad taste in aqua and sea green. Lisa fared much better. Her maroon satin gown with low neckline and three quarter sleeves would have looked perfect if only she’d ditched the silver bangles.

  Nicole had borrowed the pseudo-vintage dress I’d worn to her sister’s wedding a few months earlier. I had to admit it suited her much better. It fitted her better too. From across the room I watched her for a while. She never once fussed with the plunging neckline. She caught me looking and waved me over with her free hand. I pretended not to see her, mainly because her other hand was gripped firmly around Ethan’s. I stuck with Mitchell instead, much to his mother’s disgust. There was no chance of ever making a good impression on Meredith Tate. She was a grownup version of Jasmine who believed every word her daughters told her. One of her daughters was traipsing around looking like a dolphin had vomited her dress, and yet to her I made questionable life choices – a brief liaison with her son being one of them.

  Seeing Nicole sneaking out of the party after just a few hours came as no surprise. What did surprise me was that she’d changed into jeans and her thick winter coat. Something was going on.

  Slipping away from the party was easy. Finding her in the dimly lit car park wasn’t as simple. She spotted me first, and called my name. I walked over, annoyed to see that Ethan was with her, standing beside her car.

  “Here, take this. We’ve got plenty,” she said, handing me a bottle of vodka as soon as I was within reach. “And this,” she added, hooking my green dress over my shoulder.

  “Did you swipe this from inside?” I asked disapprovingly, waving the bottle at her.

  “It’s free, Charli. It’s a party,” said Ethan.

  I ignored him, keeping my focus on Nicole.

  “It was one for the road,” she beamed, excited. “We’re out of here, Charli.”

  “Take me with you. I want to go home too,” I told her.

  “No, I meant we’re leaving town. Tonight,” she clarified.

  “With him?” I asked, pointing to her loser boyfriend.

  Even in the dark I could see Ethan smirk. At least he kept quiet.

  “Yeah. We’ve been planning it for a while.”

  Deep down inside I had known something was in the works. Nicole had left me long ago. We’d hardly spoken in weeks.

  “Nic, you can’t. Just wait a few more months. We’re leaving then anyway.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not waiting. Ethan wants to go now.”

  “And what do you want?” I asked.

  Nicole shrugged. The weak gesture infuriated me.

  “Stand for something, Nicole,” I growled. “Or you’ll fall for anything.”

  Ethan sniggered, and I knew he’d received my insult loud and clear.

  “I’m going,” she insisted.

  “And what about me?” I asked.

  “What about you?” Ethan jibed. “It’s not her fault your boyfriend shot through.”

  No one except Gabrielle and Alex really knew why things had ended between Adam and me, not even Nicole – my so-called best friend. We’d spent so little time together that I’d never had the chance to tell her. Evidently, just like the Beautifuls, she thought he’d dumped me.

  “Adam went home, just as he’d always planned to do,” I hissed.

  “But you would have gone with him if he’d asked,” reminded Nicole, speaking slower than usual.

  I hated being reminded of how close I’d come to bailing on her. I wondered if that had made it easy for her to leave me.

  “But he didn’t ask her. Strike two for Charli,” said Ethan, leering at me in a way that made my skin crawl. “That’s why she’s begging you to stay.”

  Shooting him a baleful glare, I reached for Nicole’s hand and pulled her aside, to get her away from him while we talked.

  “If you’re leaving town in the middle of the night, you’re obviously running away. Your mum will be beside herself by morning.” I was sure I could make her see reason.

  “I really don’t care. I’m eighteen, she can’t stop me.”

  Her attitude was outrageous. Nicole was the good one. The wrath of Carol Lawson scared me, but it usually terrified her. Nothing I was saying was getting through. I wasn’t sure if she couldn’t see
the knock-on effect that skipping town would have or if she simply didn’t care.

  “What about our plans? You know I can’t travel without you. Are you just going to leave me here?” My tone became more desperate as I pleaded my case.

  Still she remained unaffected.

  Ethan got into her car and started the engine, revving it to hurry her along. She glanced over her shoulder like she was gearing up to run from me. I gripped the sleeve of her coat futilely.

  “Look,” she said, marginally sympathetically. “You’ll be fine. You’re always fine. You’ll work out how to leave. Try patching things up with Adam.”

  “Adam has nothing to do with this, Nic,” I spat. “This is about you and me. We’ve been planning this for ten years. Don’t you care about that?”

  Her body seemed to relax and I loosened my grip. Her expression was completely blank. “I really don’t, Charli,” she said wearily. “I have Ethan.”

  “You don’t love him!” The words raged out of me. I couldn’t have toned it down if I’d tried.

  “I don’t need to love him. I’ve learned from your mistakes. Where did falling in love get you?”

  “Are you trying to hurt me, Nicole?”

  “I’m pretty sure not everything is about you.”

  Shrugging free, she marched to the car. Ethan wasted no time, peeling down the driveway as soon as she closed the door. I thought I saw her look back at me as they drove away, but my tears were clouding my vision.

  I was wandering aimlessly around the car park, kicking stones with Gabrielle’s hellishly expensive shoes when Mitchell finally found me.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked, taking off his jacket and draping it around my shoulders. I couldn’t find the coordination I needed to put my arms through the sleeves.

  “This.” I thrust the half empty bottle of vodka at him and he jumped back, trying to avoid the splash of liquor heading his way.

  He looked perplexed. “Are you drunk?”

  I pinched my thumb and forefinger together, confirming his suspicions. “Li’l bit,” I slurred.

  “Do you want me to take you home?” he asked as he took the bottle and emptied it onto the ground.

  “No, I want you to take me to the beach.”

  He tossed the bottle into a nearby garden. “Charli, I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

  Inexplicably, I burst into tears. I couldn’t explain why. Perhaps the half bottle of vodka I’d guzzled in less than half an hour had something to do with it. Mitchell pulled his jacket tighter around me, buttoning it up like that would contain me. How dismal I must have looked, in a cocktail dress and ill-fitting dinner jacket, empty sleeves flapping in the breeze, blubbering like a child.

  “Alright, alright. We’ll compromise,” he offered, bringing his finger to his lips to shush me. “We’ll go for a walk down to the grapes, okay?”

  “There should be no compromise at seventeen,” I recited in a voice that sounded nothing like Alex.

  “You’re a certifiable nutcase, Charli Blake,” he said. Grabbing my shoulders, he pointed me down the track to the vineyard. We seemed to walk forever.

  “Nicole and Ethan have done a runner,” I told him out of the blue.

  Mitchell stopped dead. “Tell me what happened.”

  I told him everything I knew, leaving nothing out. “She’s been planning it for weeks,” I snivelled.

  “Nicole couldn’t plan a day at the beach,” he replied. “Ethan’s the ringmaster.”

  “Are you mad at him?” My brain was starting to fail me. Even I could tell that I was slurring my words.

  “He never said a word. I’m shocked.”

  “Nicole never does anything bad. She’s the good one,” I rambled. “All the trouble we’ve ever been in was my fault.”

  I thought I was confessing to something he didn’t know. “You don’t say?”

  “It’s true. I’m the bad one.”

  “You’re not bad, Charli,” he said sympathetically, putting one arm around me as he pulled me in close.

  I could feel my tears saturating the front of his shirt but made no attempt to move or stop crying.

  “First Adam and now Nicole. Everything is a mess,” I wailed.

  “It’s not your fault. Nicole’s just a sheep following a wolf, and Adam’s a fool for – ”

  “Shut up!” If my arms had been free of my makeshift straightjacket, I would have hit him. “Adam never dumped me. I ended it.”

  He stared. “Why would you do that? I thought you were looking forward to going to New York.”

  “I was looking forward to being with him. There’s a difference, a big difference as it turns out. Even in my head, I couldn’t make a fairy-tale ending.”

  “I’m sorry, Charli.”

  “So am I.” My voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I’m not going to New York. I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

  My impromptu decision to get blind rotten drunk was purely to drown my sorrows. For a while it had worked. But now I was starting to feel sick, and my sorrows were magnifying at a rate of knots.

  “You can still travel,” Mitchell insisted.

  “Sure I can,” I replied sarcastically. “My father will love the idea of me heading off into the big unknown by myself.”

  His pained expression made me laugh.

  “What’s funny?”

  “You were scared of him when you thought he was my brother. You must be scared stiff now you know he’s my dad.” I giggled through my tears.

  He looked at the ground. “Especially tonight,” he muttered. “I have to take his daughter home, and she’s smashed.”

  I hadn’t put much thought into what Alex’s reaction would be. The second I did, I regretted ever taking a sip. Given my grandmother’s history and his tendency to overreact, he’d be signing me up for Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

  “Mitch, can you take me home?” I asked, sounding downtrodden even to myself.

  “Absolutely.” He pointed me back towards the car park.

  Sleep was the only thing I was looking forward to about getting home. Mitchell did his best to prop me up as we walked into the house, but it took Alex two seconds to figure out I was drunk. He grabbed my chin, tilting my head up to look at my eyes. The bright light made it impossible not to squint.

  “Oh, Charlotte, you are in a whole world of trouble.” He was remarkably calm, all things considered.

  “Don’t be too hard on her,” said Mitchell, bravely pleading my case. “She’s had a rough night.”

  Alex turned his vexation to Mitchell. “You don’t need to speak,” he growled.

  Mitchell helped me across the room and lowered me on to the couch.

  “I do need to speak. There’s a problem. I think Nicole’s mum thinks she’s staying here tonight.”

  Alex swiped both hands down his face. “Nicole is Carol’s problem. Where is she? With Ethan?” he asked, furious.

  “Technically,” mumbled Mitchell.

  I tried to stay awake while Mitchell explained the whole sorry saga, but I couldn’t. My eyes started closing the second my head hit the cushion.

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