Penalty Points

by Bonnie Bryant

  Carole watched with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, not knowing what to do or say. She felt as if she’d suddenly been dropped into the middle of some horrible made-for-TV movie and she didn’t know her next line.

  A.J. suddenly seemed to remember her. “Oh, sorry.” He grabbed another can and tossed it to her. “Here you go. Bottoms up.”

  Carole caught the can, almost dropping her soda in the process. She stared at the beer for a long moment, hardly noticing as the icy condensation melted off its smooth surface and dripped down her arm.

  Beside her, A.J. had closed the refrigerator and taken another long swig of his beer, sighing with pleasure and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Carole continued to stare at her own can, the letters and swirls of the familiar logo burning into her brain. She had never so much as tasted beer before, not in her whole life. But now she wondered what it would be like. It was right there in her hand—it would be so easy.…

  Maybe A.J.’s right, she thought uncertainly, running her fingers over the pop top, playing with the edge of it. Maybe a few sips would make me feel better. Put things in perspective.

  She shuddered, the temptation passing as quickly as it had come. Opening the refrigerator door, she shoved the can back inside as if it were a hot potato. “Come on, A.J.,” she said urgently, holding the door open as if he might actually return his own half-empty beer. “You know we shouldn’t be doing this. Why don’t we go back inside now?”

  He shrugged and took another swig. “You go ahead if you want. I think I’ll stay out here.” Reaching past her, he grabbed the remainder of the broken six-pack and tucked it under his arm. “Actually, I think I’m going out for a little fresh air.”

  Without another word, he headed out the side door of the garage into the Lakes’ darkened yard, whistling under his breath. All Carole could do was watch helplessly, still holding on to the open refrigerator door.

  EIGHT

  After the sixth time someone banged on the door, begging to use the toilet, Lisa gave up and came out. She had touched up her makeup as best she could—she had no idea where she’d left her purse—and she was satisfied that she looked relatively normal.

  She didn’t feel normal, though. As she emerged from the bathroom, barely avoiding being run down by a grateful Fenton Hall sophomore, she glanced around cautiously. The hall was crowded, but she didn’t see many people she knew. She picked her way toward the living room door, awaiting and dreading the moment she would spot Alex.

  Pausing in the doorway, she swept the living room with her eyes. There were so many people packed in there that Lisa was surprised it didn’t simply burst at the seams. Just inside the doorway, Scott and Veronica were chatting with several of Veronica’s friends. Over on the sofa, Stevie and several of her Fenton Hall schoolmates were talking intently with their heads close together, shooting occasional glances at Scott. In the far corner of the room, Ben Marlow was slouched deep into an upholstered chair, looking bored and hostile. On the dance floor, Phil was fast-dancing with Julianna, who kept glancing worriedly toward the doorway, obviously watching for A.J.

  Then Lisa spotted Alex. He was over near the front windows, leaning against the wall and chatting with Emily as they both chomped on carrot sticks from the bowl Emily was holding. His back was to Lisa, so he couldn’t see her standing there, and Emily hadn’t noticed her yet, either. Lisa stared at Alex’s back, running her eyes over the familiar set of shoulders as she wondered what to do. She was still angry about what had happened, but thinking about what her life would be like without Alex. She couldn’t let things stay the way they were.

  But how could she fix this? Should she go over, talk to him, try to work it out somehow? Could she bring herself to apologize, even if she didn’t really think she’d done anything that wrong? Or should she wait and see whether he came looking for her?

  She took a couple of hesitant steps into the room, still not certain of her next move. Before she could decide, she felt a hand on her arm.

  “Lisa,” Veronica diAngelo purred. “There you are. We were just wondering if you’d disappeared for good.”

  Lisa turned, gritting her teeth at the unwelcome interruption. She found Veronica staring at her, her expertly lined eyes glittering with frank curiosity. Scott was beside her, holding a pair of soda cups.

  “Here I am,” Lisa responded as lightly as she could. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Wait.” Veronica gripped her arm more tightly, her mouth curving into a sympathetic smile. She didn’t bother to raise her voice above its normal tone, but Lisa had no trouble hearing every word she said, even over the noise of the party. “Don’t run off just yet. Scott and I wanted you to know that if there’s anything we can do, or if you need a shoulder to cry on after what happened, we’re here for you.”

  What a joke, Lisa thought. Veronica’s motives are so transparent that a two-year-old could see through them. She’s obviously just hoping for some juicy gossip. She glanced at Scott, who looked uncomfortable. I guess Scott realizes that, too.

  “Thanks,” she said aloud. “But I’m fine.”

  “Lisa, Lisa.” Veronica pushed back her sleek dark hair and leaned closer. “Really. We’ve all been there, you know. You don’t have to hide your—”

  “Gary!” Scott boomed out suddenly, setting his sodas on a handy end table and reaching out to grab Gary Korman, who had just wandered into the room. “My man! How’s it going? And George Wheeler—I’ve barely seen you all night. Come on over here and say hello.” He gestured to George, who was picking at a bowl of chips nearby.

  Despite her state of mind, Lisa smiled. Scott was being almost as transparent as Veronica. It was clear that he hadn’t been happy about being drawn into Veronica’s prying, and he wasn’t wasting any time in doing something about it. Lisa, for one, was grateful. Veronica scowled and stalked off, muttering something about powdering her nose, as Scott started chattering at George about the Colesford Horse Show.

  Meanwhile, Gary stepped closer to Lisa and nodded a rather sheepish hello. “Yo,” he said. “I was looking for you before. I just wanted to say—” He paused and cleared his throat uncertainly, his droopy eyes blinking. “I wanted to say I’m sorry if, you know, I caused any trouble for you and your boyfriend.”

  “Of course not,” Lisa said in surprise. Why would he think that? she wondered.

  Gary shrugged and shifted his weight. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Because well, you know …”

  Suddenly Lisa remembered what Alex had said as he’d yanked her away from Gary earlier. Excuse me, he’d snapped. If you’re done drooling all over my girlfriend now, I need to talk to her about something. Lisa had been irritated by his rudeness, but she’d quickly forgotten the comment because of what had happened next. Obviously, though, Gary had been worrying that something he’d done had set Alex off.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” Lisa hastened to assure him, putting a hand on his arm to emphasize her point and leaning a little closer to make sure he heard her over the blasting music. She smiled at Gary, thinking how good it was to know such a truly nice, concerned guy. “I’m sorry about that. It had nothing to do with you, really. He was just mad about something else, and he took it out on you because you happened to be there.”

  “Good.” Gary looked relieved. “Thanks. I was wondering what I’d done wrong.”

  Lisa gave his arm one last squeeze before turning to check on Alex again. When she did, she found that he was facing her way. In fact, he was staring straight at her, his face dark and angry.

  Her face flamed as, in a flash, she realized what he was thinking. He’d seen her with Gary, watched her leaning toward him as if for an intimate talk, and jumped to the wrong conclusion. Again.

  Sure enough, a second later Alex rushed toward the door, his face cold as he passed within a few feet of her. He disappeared into the hall, and a second later Lisa heard the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming.

  Carole felt distinctly strange a
s she wandered through the laundry room and down the narrow back hall, following the sounds of the stereo to the party. In the front hallway, she almost collided with Veronica diAngelo, who shot her a dirty look, which Carole ignored, while she hurried on ahead of Veronica into the living room.

  Carole hardly noted the other girl’s presence. She was still thinking about the eager look on A.J.’s face as he’d tossed her that beer and the way he’d rushed off with the extra cans. Worrying about what he was up to out there in the dark at the same time she was wondering whether Lisa would ever speak to her again had chased away the last remaining vestiges of her partying mood.

  As she entered the living room, Carole immediately spotted Lisa, who was standing just inside the doorway talking to George Wheeler and Gary Korman. They didn’t notice her, though, so she scurried past quickly. She knew she would have to face Lisa at some point, but she didn’t feel up to it right then. After the scene with A.J., she was feeling too distracted for another argument.

  Stevie was nearby, standing with Scott and Veronica and a couple of other Fenton Hall students. They didn’t seem to notice Carole’s entrance, either. Neither did Phil, who was sitting on the couch with some friends, gulping down cookies and pretzels; or Callie, who was talking to a guy Carole didn’t recognize; or Emily, who was just swinging into the room on her crutches, accompanied by a couple of friends.

  Am I invisible? Carole thought giddily. Maybe when I wished I could disappear while Lisa was yelling at me, it actually worked.

  She shook her head, feeling stranger than ever. Suddenly she spotted Ben, who was sprawled in a chair on the far side of the room. She’d hardly seen him since their arrival together, and at the sight of him she felt a rush of relief.

  Ben, Carole thought. He’s the one person here who definitely won’t care that I’m not in a party mood anymore.

  She hurried toward him. He spotted her when she got close and sat up a little straighter. “Hey,” he greeted her.

  “Hey,” she returned, grabbing an empty chair and pulling it up beside him. She scooted it as close to his chair as possible so that they wouldn’t have to shout to make themselves heard over the music. “How’s it going?”

  Ben shrugged, his dark eyes opaque in the dim light in their corner of the room. “This isn’t really my scene.”

  No kidding, Carole thought, wondering once again why he had bothered to come. “Oh,” she said aloud. “Um, I guess it’s not really mine, either. I don’t go to a whole lot of parties, at least not big ones like this.”

  “Yeah,” Ben said succinctly. He paused for a moment, clearing his throat as he surveyed the busy scene in front of them. “But everyone needs to get away … get, um, a change of scene. Hang out with friends.”

  All at once Carole started to feel awkward. It wasn’t like Ben to say so much—while making so little sense. What was he trying to say? And why was he staring at her so intently? His expression was impossible to read, and for some reason it was making her palms sweat.

  He’s never been that friendly with Emily, she thought rather frantically. So why did he come? Why is he still here? I mean, I’m the only person here he ever talks to at all. She gulped as the meaning of that last thought struck her full force. Could it be that … Could he … Is it possible he might actually …

  The wild thoughts popping up in her head were too crazy, too scary and unexpected and strangely intriguing for her to put into words, even in her own mind. Feeling suddenly shy, nervous, and incoherent, Carole wet her lips and did her best to smile at Ben. There was only one way to find out. If only she could work up the nerve.…

  “So anyway,” Ben began after a long pause. “Carole, I … I should say someth—”

  “Would you—that is, would you like to—” Carole interrupted, her voice coming out a little louder than she’d planned. She swallowed hard and started again. “Um, I mean, would you like to dance?”

  Ben stared at her for a long moment, his expression caught between astonishment and confusion. Realizing that a slow, dreamy, ultra-romantic song had just come on the stereo, Carole felt a hot, prickly blush creeping up her neck to her face.

  “I don’t dance,” Ben said bluntly at last, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I’ve got to go. It’s getting late.”

  Carole blushed furiously, feeling more humiliated than she’d ever felt in her life, as Ben stalked out of the room without a backward glance.

  NINE

  Stevie hardly noticed as Ben brushed past her on his way out. She was too busy trying to pry Veronica away from Scott, just as she’d been doing off and on throughout the entire evening.

  As if it’s not bad enough that she’s in my house at all, Stevie thought, gritting her teeth as Veronica blathered on about an upcoming school dance, most likely trying to drop enough hints to convince Scott to ask her. I’ve been so busy trying to chase her away from Scott and keep her from ruining his chances in the election that I’ve hardly even spoken to Emily. Or had enough time to eat any of the food I spent all day putting out. Or seen Phil all night.

  She shot a wistful glance at her boyfriend, who was lounging on the couch with a couple of his buddies from the Cross County basketball team, stuffing his face with junk food. She wished she could be over there with him, hanging out and enjoying herself. But business had to come before pleasure … With a sigh, she returned her attention to the problem at hand. She was just about to tactfully suggest that Veronica go and check out the Ping-Pong table in the basement when she spotted Lisa standing nearby, talking to a couple of guys.

  Well, well, well. So she’s back. Stevie hadn’t seen Lisa since the big fight. She glanced around the room in search of her brother, but Alex was nowhere to be seen. She knew that she needed to go and speak to Lisa herself at some point, try to determine where the two of them stood after what had happened. But first she wanted to check in with her brother—if she could find him. I hope he’s not moping around somewhere by himself again, she thought worriedly, feeling a bit guilty about losing track of him when he was in such a delicate mood.

  “Hey, you guys,” she said, interrupting Scott in the middle of a sentence. “Listen, I need to find Alex. Do you have any idea where he went?”

  Veronica just shrugged. But Sue Berry, one of their classmates who had been standing quietly near the outskirts of the group, glanced toward the hall. “I’m not sure,” she said, “but I think he may have gone outside.”

  “Outside?” Stevie repeated. “Why?” Without waiting for an answer, she spun around and hurried out into the hall.

  A second later she was on the front step, pulling the door shut behind her. As soon as the noise of the party inside was muffled by the door, she heard other sounds coming from the side of the house. The sounds of laughter and voices—familiar voices.

  “Alex?” she called, hurrying around the garage into the side yard.

  Two faces turned to her guiltily as she rounded the corner of the garage and stopped short in shock. Alex and A.J. had dragged a couple of lounge chairs from the pool shed, setting them up in the grass just outside the garage door. A couple of aluminum cans were balanced on the arm of each chair, gleaming dully in the moonlight spilling over the yard. Each of the guys was holding another can.

  “Hey, Stevie,” A.J. said.

  Alex grinned at her. “Yo, sis. What’s up?”

  Stevie was too surprised at finding the two of them together to respond for a moment. A.J. and Alex had always gotten along well enough—they were the same age, they both liked sports and cars and action movies, and they were both generally easygoing and likable. But as far as Stevie knew, they’d never spent any time alone together, outside the company of Stevie or Phil or Lisa or their other friends. So finding them hanging out by themselves, especially in the middle of a party, would have been strange enough. But now? The last she’d heard, Alex had been mopey and morose, too busy nursing a broken heart to think about much else. And A.J., despite his best efforts to act normal, was cl
early still smarting from the pain of finding out that his parents had never told him the truth about his birth.

  You’d never guess any of that by looking at them now, though, Stevie thought. Relaxing out here, sipping their sodas in the moonlight …

  She broke off the thought, doing a double take as she leaned over for a closer look at the cans the guys were holding.

  “Hey,” she said. “Is that … beer?”

  A.J. giggled. “Busted!” he sang out.

  Alex grinned and raised his can, touching it to A.J.’s before taking a swig.

  Stevie put her hands on her hips, shocked. “Are you two crazy?” she blurted out. “What do you think you’re doing with that stuff?”

  “Chill out, Stevie.” Alex sounded a little defensive. “It’s not like you caught us with heroin or something. It’s just a couple of beers—no big deal. You know I don’t usually drink. But after what I’ve been through tonight …” He waved one hand lazily, not bothering to go on.

  Stevie sank down onto the edge of A.J.’s lounge chair, not sure what to do. Where had the beer come from, anyway? Her parents rarely drank the stuff, and it wasn’t as if anyone at the party was old enough to—

  Chad! she thought suddenly. She felt like smacking herself on the head. The answer was so obvious. He forgot those extra cases he stashed in the garage. Now that she thought about it, she remembered that Chad and Luke had been kind of rushed on their way out earlier.

  But knowing where the beer had come from didn’t tell her what to do about it. Glancing at the empty cans on the arms of the chairs, Stevie could see that her brother and A.J. were probably already well on their way to being toasted. If they got a little drunker and decided to move their private party indoors, it wouldn’t take long for everyone else to figure out where the beer was coming from. Then things could really get out of control fast.