Penalty Points

by Bonnie Bryant

  No, it was safer just to stay where she was. Watching the little white ball bounce back and forth was starting to give her a headache, so Carole closed her eyes for a moment. Even though there were people all around her, she’d never felt so alone in her life.

  Her eyes flew open again when she heard heavy footsteps clattering down the creaky wooden staircase. “Yo!” a tall guy with thick, floppy black hair called to the group as he leaned over the banister. Carole couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but she vaguely recognized him as a friend of Gary’s. “Guess what?” the guy continued. “There’s beer out in the garage!”

  “Beer?” Gary’s Ping-Pong opponent looked away, ignoring the ball as it bounced off his arm and dropped beneath the table. “Are you sure, dude?”

  “Come see for yourself.” The black-haired guy disappeared back up the stairs.

  Gary dropped his paddle on the table. “Let’s go,” he said eagerly. Within seconds, the entire group had stampeded upstairs, leaving Carole completely alone.

  Uh-oh, she thought, sitting bolt upright in her chair, suddenly distracted, at least a little, from her own problems. Someone found Chad’s beer. This is bad news.

  Once again she was tempted to leave. She didn’t want to be around if things got too wild, and she knew her father would have a fit if he found out she’d been at a party where people were drinking. Still, she knew she couldn’t just run away and leave Stevie and Alex alone to deal with this mess. Whatever Stevie might think of her at the moment, Carole’s duty as a loyal friend was to stay and help try to keep things under control.

  Reluctantly, she dragged herself out of the chair and headed for the steps, her heart in her throat as she heard whoops and shouts from overhead. When she reached the top of the stairs, which opened out into the narrow hall leading to the laundry room and garage, she saw a steady stream of people pushing their way toward the open garage door. A few others were pushing their way back in, each of them holding one or more cans of beer.

  Carole gulped and turned the opposite way. She had to find Stevie and let her know what was going on in case she didn’t know already. Pushing her way past a couple of guys chugging at the end of the passage, she turned into the front hall and raced toward the living room door.

  But she stopped short before she reached it, gasping in shock. “S-Stevie?”

  Stevie didn’t hear her. She was standing just inside the front door talking to A.J. with a big grin on her face—and an open can of beer in her hand.

  ELEVEN

  Callie was talking to Emily when she felt someone sling an arm around her shoulder. Startled, she turned to see who it was, half expecting it to be George. She’d managed to avoid him for the past few minutes, slipping away from Scott’s group when George had joined it and hiding out in the hall until she’d seen him wander by toward the kitchen. But she had been distracted by her conversation with Emily and wouldn’t have noticed if he’d returned.

  To her surprise, it was Alex. He was grinning at her, his face mere inches from hers.

  “Hey, Callie,” he breathed. He squeezed her shoulders tightly. “Want to dance?”

  She wrinkled her nose. There was no mistaking the smell of beer on his breath, and she couldn’t help feeling shocked. Callie had known a few people back in her old hometown who got wasted at every party they went to, but she wouldn’t have expected that sort of thing from her new friends in Willow Creek. They didn’t seem like the type.

  “Um, not right now, thanks,” she told Alex, trying not to let her disgust show in her face or voice. “Maybe later.”

  “Aw, come on.” Alex hadn’t removed his arm. “Pretty please?”

  Callie glanced at Emily for help, but the other girl’s face had paled and she was backing slowly away. It was obvious that she had no idea what to do and couldn’t think of anything but escape. Callie sighed, but she couldn’t really blame her. She would just have to deal with this problem herself.

  “Come on, Callie, what do you say?” Alex persisted, his speech sounding a little slurred. His arm tightened around her even more. He didn’t seem to notice as Emily finally turned and fled. “I’ll hold you so tight you won’t even need those crutches.”

  Callie wriggled her shoulders. “Let go,” she ordered as firmly as she could manage. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Oops.” Alex let go of her immediately, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry about that. Come on, let me make it up to you. Dance with me.” Leaning closer, he put one finger to his lips and winked conspiratorially. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve always thought you were reery pletty. Oops. I mean, reery pretty.”

  Wow, he’s bombed, Callie realized. What am I going to do? In his condition, who knows how he’ll react if I blow him off? Maybe it would be easier if I just go ahead and—

  “Hi there,” a new voice interrupted.

  Callie turned and saw George standing beside her. Emily was just behind him, smiling nervously but hopefully. “Hi, George,” Callie said, realizing she’d never been so glad to see him in her life.

  Alex had turned to glance at the newcomer as well. “Hey,” he mumbled. “What’s up?”

  “Hope you don’t mind, Alex,” George said with an apologetic smile. “I’m going to have to steal Callie away from you now. She promised me this dance—it’s my favorite song.”

  Callie held her breath. She realized that Emily must have fetched George, hoping to rescue her from Alex that way. Would it work? Or would it just get George a punch in the gut for his trouble?

  “Oh,” Alex said, a momentary look of confusion crossing his face. He swayed slightly on his feet, then straightened up and nodded. “No problem. Enjoy.” He tossed George a mock salute and a wink, then stepped back a few feet, almost crashing into a small side table.

  “Shall we?” George moved toward Callie, offering his arm.

  She took it gratefully, dropping her crutches against a chair and shooting Emily a quick smile as she followed George to the dance floor, limping slightly despite his help. George turned to face her, taking one hand in his own and resting his other hand lightly on her waist. Callie was a little surprised. The song that was playing, a recent pop hit, was breezy and quick, with plenty of Latin influence. Most of the other couples who were dancing were just fast-dancing the way they would to any up-tempo song, or swaying along and improvising as best they could to the lively beat. But as George swung her around and started moving, Callie quickly realized that he actually knew what he was doing. His feet flashed expertly as he caught the rhythm of the music.

  What do you know, Callie thought with amazement. A guy who can actually dance.

  She had taken endless years of ballroom dancing classes back in her younger days, so she had no trouble keeping up, even with her weak right leg. In fact, she couldn’t help noticing that George was being careful to allow for her injury, keeping them in one spot so that she could put most of her weight on her left leg. Meanwhile, his right arm was supporting her firmly as it circled her waist. For once, Callie hardly remembered her disability as she let herself enjoy the dance.

  I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised, she thought idly as George dipped her expertly. I mean, he doesn’t exactly look like an accomplished salsa dancer. But then again, he doesn’t look like he’d be such an incredible rider, either. It just goes to show how stupid it is to judge by appearances.

  She found herself thinking harder about that. Once again, she wondered why she shouldn’t at least give George a chance. Maybe the romantic sparks weren’t flying for her at the moment, but he was a kind, smart, talented guy. It was stupid to write him off as potential boyfriend material just because he wasn’t ready for the cover of GQ—stupid and shallow. She should give him a shot. What would be the worst that could happen?

  Of course, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself here. I don’t even know for sure that he likes me as more than a friend, she reminded herself. For now, I should just relax, stop overanalyzing everything, and enjoy this dance. />
  As George bent her into another graceful dip, she did her best to do just that.

  A few minutes later Lisa came down the stairs feeling better than she had since the breakup. After finishing her phone call to her father, she had spent a few minutes in the upstairs bathroom, once again trying to salvage what was left of her makeup. Fortunately she had found some of Stevie’s supplies in the medicine cabinet and borrowed what she needed, including a comb for her hair, which she was dismayed to find had gotten rather bedraggled over the course of the evening.

  She spotted Emily hovering at the bottom of the stairs, staring in the direction of the living room doorway. “Hi,” Lisa greeted her. “How’s the guest of honor?”

  “Worried,” Emily said frankly, glancing up as Lisa came down the last few steps.

  “What do you mean?” Lisa asked, surprised. “What’s going on?”

  Emily grimaced. “Didn’t you hear?” she asked. “This has turned into some kind of keg party or something.” She gestured at a group of guys who were standing in the doorway, laughing and talking loudly. Lisa noticed that most of them were holding beer cans.

  She gulped. “Uh-oh,” she said. “Does Stevie know about this yet?”

  At that moment, Stevie came running out into the hall with a whoop, and Phil was right behind her. Stevie slid on the Oriental rug, almost spilling the beer she was holding as she laughingly fought off Phil’s attempts to tickle her.

  “My guess is that she knows,” Emily replied dryly.

  Lisa’s heart started beating faster. Apparently a lot had happened in the short time she’d been upstairs. As Stevie and Phil raced off toward the back of the house, Lisa made her way over to the living room entrance and peeked in. The room was as crowded as ever—people were talking, dancing, and laughing. But now a lot of those people were also drinking. Lisa seemed to spy beer cans everywhere she looked.

  Emily had followed her. “From what I can tell, A.J. started it. He found some beer out in the garage and helped himself. When other people noticed he was drunk, they made him tell them where he’d gotten it.” She shrugged. “Before long, everyone was joining in.”

  “So I see,” Lisa said grimly. She had just spotted Alex. He was on the dance floor, jumping around with A.J. and Julianna. All three of them were holding beer cans. Alex’s face was red, and his eyes were glittering strangely as he leaped and spun around energetically with little regard for the actual beat of the music. As Lisa watched, a pretty blond girl in a tight minidress walked past the trio. Lisa recognized her as Nicole Adams, a Fenton Hall student who was a member of Veronica’s clique. Alex’s eyes lit up when he saw her. He grabbed Nicole by the arm and pulled her to him, making the beer can she was holding fly out of her hand. Neither of them noticed as the can fell and a frothy stain spread over the floor. Alex was too busy pawing at Nicole’s hair and planting a big kiss on her cheek as she giggled and pushed him away playfully, not seeming to mind his obnoxious behavior. Disgust bubbled up in Lisa and she had to turn away, feeling almost physically ill. She forced her gaze back to Emily. “But Stevie—”

  “I know.” Emily blinked. “It doesn’t seem like her, does it?”

  Lisa shook her head helplessly. Until that moment, she would have said that Stevie Lake was one of the people she knew best in the whole world. But she never would have predicted this. What could Stevie have been thinking?

  Just then A.J. broke away from the dancers around him—including Alex and Nicole, who had their arms wrapped around each other by now and were swaying dreamily with their eyes squeezed shut, slow-dancing despite the upbeat tempo of the music.

  Lisa couldn’t stand to watch. She waited until A.J. reached the doorway, then grabbed him. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?” she snapped, some of her anger at Alex coming out in her words.

  A.J. didn’t seem to notice. He was humming along to the music, slapping his thigh with one hand to the beat. “Huh?” he said, interrupting himself and blinking at Lisa. “Oh, hey. I think Alex was looking for you before.” Casting a glance back at the dance floor and spying Alex, who was now running his hands slowly up and down Nicole’s back, A.J. let out a high-pitched giggle. “Oops! Maybe not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m kind of thirsty. I was just on my way out to the garage to take care of that.”

  Lisa gritted her teeth. “Listen, A.J., you have to snap out of it.”

  “Yeah, come on, A.J.” Emily’s voice sounded desperate. “Quit it with the beer, okay? This wasn’t supposed to be that kind of party.”

  Lisa glanced over and saw that Emily looked more upset than ever. Guessing that all the drinking was starting to scare her, Lisa let go of A.J.’s arm. It was clear they weren’t going to get through to him, anyway—he was too far gone. “Listen, Emily,” she said as A.J. danced off down the hall. “What do you say we get out of here? I’ll drive you home if you want.”

  Emily accepted gratefully. “Thanks. I was just thinking about calling my parents, but, well, you know.…”

  Lisa nodded, understanding perfectly why Emily didn’t want her parents to witness what was going on, even though she herself hadn’t had anything to drink. However idiotic Stevie was acting, neither of them wanted to get her in trouble. And she would definitely be in trouble if her parents ever found out what was going on here—big trouble. Lisa could only hope that her mother and Rafe didn’t decide to take a romantic moonlight stroll through the neighborhood and stop in to say hi.

  “Come on,” she told Emily. “Help me find my purse. Then we’re out of here.”

  TWELVE

  Carole emerged from the living room and glanced down the hall just in time to see Lisa and Emily disappear out the front door. But she didn’t have time to think about that. After spotting Stevie with that beer, she had looked around and found that most of the people she knew were drinking, too—Phil, A.J., Julianna, Alex. Carole had tried to make her way over to Stevie, hoping it wasn’t too late to talk some sense into her, but she’d gotten trapped by the crowd and lost sight of her. Now it was all she could do to keep herself from panicking.

  As she glanced around for a sensible face in the crowd of partyers all around her, Carole saw Stevie step out of the powder room under the stairs. Carole hurried forward and grabbed her by the arm.

  “Stevie!” she exclaimed. “There you are. This is really bad news. We’ve got to do something about all this beer.”

  Stevie grinned and threw her arms around Carole, hugging her tight. “Carole!” she cried joyfully. “I was wondering where you were. I missed you.”

  “That’s nice.” Carole pushed her away, forcing herself to be patient. “But listen. You have to stop this. Things are getting out of hand.”

  “What d’you mean?” Stevie shrugged and leaned against the stairs. “Things are just starting to get fun. Just relax and go with it.” Suddenly she smacked herself on the forehead. “Oops! That reminds me. Forgot something.” She darted back into the powder room, emerging with a can of beer. She took a long, thirsty drink. “Aaah! That’s better,” she announced with a burp.

  Carole didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t believe what was happening. Stevie had done plenty of wild and crazy things in her life, but this was different. As far as Carole knew, Stevie had never had more than a few sips of champagne at New Year’s in her whole life.

  Maybe that’s why she’s acting so goofy now, Carole realized. Even if she’s only had one or two beers, it would hit her really hard because she has no tolerance for alcohol.

  She still couldn’t imagine what would make Stevie drink one or two beers in the first place, but there was no time to worry about that now. Someone needed to take some action, before things got any worse. Obviously, Stevie was in no condition to do it herself, which meant it was up to Carole.

  But what can I do? she thought desperately as Stevie wandered off in search of Phil. I’ll never be able to convince everyone to stop drinking. I should probably just call Dad or the police or someone. She gulped, feeling paralyze
d at the thought of what would happen if she did that. Stevie and Alex would be in big trouble with their parents, and if the police got involved, they might even be arrested, for all Carole knew. Maybe I could call Max instead, she thought hopefully. He might agree not to tell anyone.…

  She didn’t bother to finish the thought, knowing that the stable owner would never agree to that plan. He was just as certain to tell Stevie’s parents about the beer as any other adult.

  Carole leaned against the staircase and chewed on her lower lip, feeling trapped. She couldn’t let things go on this way. All these people had to get home eventually. Suppose the people who were drinking ended up trying to drive? Who knew what could happen then?

  Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to go to the phone and call her father. Everyone would really hate me then, she thought helplessly. And I already feel unpopular enough tonight, thanks to the fight with Lisa and then what happened with Ben.

  Before she could make up her mind about what to do, she noticed Alex heading toward her through the crowd. He wasn’t holding a beer at the moment, but Carole could tell that he’d had a few already. If Stevie was tipsy, her brother was drunk. As Alex stopped in front of Carole, he seemed unable to stand up straight. He kept swaying and grabbing the staircase for support.

  “Carole! Am I glad to see you,” Alex cried, his words running together so that it was hard to understand him.

  “Um, hi,” Carole replied tentatively.

  “I want to thank you.” Alex swayed dangerously again, and this time he grabbed Carole for balance instead of the stairs, almost knocking her over. “You’ve saved me a lock—ah, I mean a lot of heartache by telling me the truth like you did.”

  Carole felt incredibly uncomfortable. Trying to ignore the weight of Alex’s body pressing on her as he clutched her shoulder for support, she cleared her throat. “Oh. Well, I don’t really think—”