by D'Ann Burrow
I was almost ready to jump into this conversation. I’d never followed Scarlett around this year, unless I counted when she moved her car during the day, and I had to wait outside the gym so she could show me where the car moved to in the parking lot. Other than that, I doubted most people at school were even aware we knew each other.
“We might not do anything.”
“That’s fine, but if you do, take Kennedy with you.” She gave a gigantic tug on the piece of sculpture and headed toward the doorway. “I’m going to ask her what y’all did when I get back, so you’d better do as I asked.”
Without waiting for an answer, she stepped out the door, kicking it closed behind her.
“Sorry. This party’s invitation only.” Someone tapped my shoulder from behind, and I turned around to discover I was staring at a guy's chest. I tilted my head up to face him, and he was looking at me like something smelled bad. "You don't have an invitation."
Now I recognized him. Well, kind of. Andrew. Andre. Something that started with an A. I knew he was one of the football players who hung out waiting for cheerleading practice to end in the morning. Not the best sign.
"I think I'm supposed to be here." I turned to study the dance floor. Less than a minute ago, Scarlett had practically skipped off in search of her crew. So much for showing me around. And now I didn't even know whose party this was, much less know if I'd honestly been invited.
"You need to leave."
I wondered if he played defense. Or was it offense? Something that would let him tackle people. Although it could simply be that he saved the tough-guy act for threatening females crashing a party.
"My cousin dragged me here."
I stood on my tiptoes, but no matter how hard I strained to see her, Scarlett appeared to have been swallowed by the people on the makeshift dance floor. And there was no way I was venturing into that mess. All I could see were guys and girls grinding against each other doing moves they definitely didn’t learn at a society tea party.
“She’s with me.” A way-too-familiar bass voice rumbled past my ear.
“Sorry, Bro. I didn’t know you brought a date.” The guy who'd appointed himself as the party's official bouncer tipped his beer bottle in our direction and wandered away to rejoin the crowd.
"Sorry about Alex. He can be a little extreme.” Tanner glared at Alex’s back with such intensity that I was surprised the guy’s designer shirt didn’t erupt into flames. Where did he come from? He’d appeared out of nowhere, and I resisted the urge to think of him as my own personal superhero. All he’d done was save me from a jerk—not a burning building.
I blinked a few times, trying to clear the he’s-really-kind-of-hot thoughts from my head. "Not a problem. Until an hour ago, I didn't even know there was going to be a party tonight, much less that Scarlett would drag me to it."
“It's Saturday night. There's always a party." He chugged a diet soda like it was water. So far, he was the first guy I’d seen drinking something other than beer. Did they sell fake IDs in a vending machine somewhere? I’d seen college parties on the beach with half the amount of alcohol that seemed to be here.
"I'll remember that for next week." Next Saturday I’d remember to disappear before Scarlett had to take me with her. Both of us would be happier that way.
"You having a good time?” Tanner crumpled the empty can in his hand and tossed it at a trash can, hitting it dead on. He was probably the captain of the basketball team too.
"The best." I tried not to let my voice take on a sarcastic edge, but based on his surprised expression, I didn’t succeed.
He stared down at me. “This isn’t your first dance, is it?”
“No. Of course not.” I gave what I hoped looked like a dismissive wave toward the group mingling under the fairy lights.
"I'll bet yours back in California were different."
"Yep. Definitely fewer barns." I tried to lighten the mood. His lips upturned faintly.
I’d been to dances—lots of them. As a class officer, I couldn't exactly escape. Every quarter, the girls from Holy Cross would meet up with the guys from St. Anthony’s for a well-chaperoned dance. If one of the teachers couldn’t shine a flashlight at a couple and see the beam on the other side, their time at the dance was over, and they got to do the walk of shame to their parents' car.
If I used that same test here, I'm not sure if anyone on the dance floor would be left after I finished. I had no question about one of the girls I recognized from the drill team dancing with her boyfriend. He was so close to her—she was practically sitting on his lap as they ground to the music.
“Tanner? What’s taking so long?” Stacia Jennings batted her lashes as she strode to his side with the intensity of a tiger stalking its prey. I was surprised she could function over a foot away from my cousin. After she seized hold of Tanner's arm, I had my answer.
Giving me a glare that would send a preschooler into tears, she stepped closer to the football player and placed her free hand on his chest. Now I understood why Scarlett had never made a move on Tanner.
He belonged to Stacia.
She sniffed in annoyance. “I thought you were getting me a drink.”
Tanner nodded as he removed her hand from his shirt. “I’m workin’ on it. Had to stop and help someone out.”
He winked at me. Just when I thought that maybe I'd initially misjudged him, he instantly zoomed back up the jerk scale.
He turned and started to walk toward the old barn. “I’ll see you around.”
Stacia stepped closer to me, her head tilted to the side, studying every nuance of my appearance. Her eyes matched her emerald sundress in a way that could only be achieved through contact lenses. Miss Piney Bluff might fool pageant judges, but I'd recognize cosmetic enhancements anywhere. “You’re Scarlett’s cousin, aren’t you?”
“Sadly, yes.”
"I wondered how you got in." She gave me a look that she must have perfected in front of the mirror. “Enjoy the party. It'll probably be your last.”
Smirking, she spun on her heel and scampered in Tanner’s direction. If she swung her hips any harder, she’d need a chiropractor.
I watched as Stacia reclaimed her place at Tanner’s side, stepping between him and another member of the drill team who had the nerve to strike up a conversation with the quarterback. If looks could kill, Nicole would be lying dead amid the pine needles right now.
So Stacia thought this would probably be my last party. That would be totally fine with me.
“Trust me, he’s not worth it.” A girl who sat two rows behind me in English class appeared at my side. Her flame-red hair styled into a ponytail atop her head, she took a long drink from a water bottle.
"Tanner? Oh no. Not even." She raised an eyebrow, questioning my answer without saying a word. "I was honestly trying to decide if Stacia was going to kill Nicole."
The girl nodded with an expression that suggested she was impressed. "Good guess, but they're both in Scarlett's posse. Fighting's against the rules."
She rolled her eyes. "So why were you talking to him?"
"I think he kept me from getting kicked out by Alex." I tentatively tested the guy's name, and she didn't look confused, so I guessed I got it right.
"Rescuing the damsel in distress. One of his favorites. But I promise, you don’t want to go there.”
“Do I know you?” I couldn’t help but let a tinge of annoyance leak into my voice. Who the hell was this girl, and why was she telling me to stay away from Tanner? I hadn’t even given him a second glance. Well, maybe a second glance…and a third…but that was beside the point. He's the one who was talking to me, and it was clear that he wasn't on the market. Stacia might as well have hung a no trespassing sign around his neck.
“Mary Jo Porter.” Her ponytail bobbed as she reached out her hand in formal greeting. “I’m in your English class, and I’m on the newspaper staff too. And, in case you're wondering how I pass the invitation test, this is my family's f
arm. Inviting me is part of the deal."
She took another drink from her water bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I hear what you're saying, but I also I saw the way you were looking at him. I can’t blame you. He’d look mighty fine on a calendar on your wall, but that’s all you want to do—look at him. He flirts with everyone, especially on the rare occasion of fresh meat moving into town.”
“He wasn't flirting." I tried to interrupt, but it seemed like Mary Jo had a fire lit beneath her.
“He makes every girl think she's a princess and convinces her that she's the only one for him. And then he dumps them. Every. Stinking. Time.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
“We moved here two years ago.” Her head jerked in a brisk nod. “Trust me, the former girlfriends of Tanner Shields could have their own page in the yearbook.”
“What are you doing over here?” Scarlett’s voice sailed over the crowd and more than one person turned to see what was happening at the edge of the clearing. “My mother made me bring you here to mingle, not stand here doing an impression of a tree.”
The amber bottle in Scarlett’s hand was almost empty. Judging by her slightly slurred words, it wasn’t the first of the evening.
“I am talking to someone.”
“I meant, you're supposed to be talking with people who matter.” She laughed as her eyes fixed on Mary Jo. As if sensing the leader of the pack was moving in for the kill, Stacia and Nicole moved away from their dates and slowly made their way through the crowd to stand on either side of Scarlett. "God, this is why I said I needed to just leave you at home."
"Trust me, I would have been fine with that."
"Ladies!" Nicole looked between us, turned and glanced over her shoulder at the dance floor. Despite the still-booming music, fewer people were dancing and more seemed to be waiting for the impending cat fight. "Y'all are creating a scene."
"Seriously, calm down." Stacia added.
Nicole and Stacia might have been almost ready to come to blows over Tanner, but now they were intent on pulling Scarlett out of the being the unfavorable center of attention.
"I know exactly what you need." Alex swooped in, giving the three members of Team Scarlett a knowing look. He pressed a bottle filled with bright pink liquid into my hand. "You need a drink. Something to cool yourself down. It’s lemonade—kind of.”
Behind him, Stacia and Nicole laughed in unison. Did they practice? It was seriously creepy.
“Go on, Kennedy. Drink up.” Scarlett took a few steps back, moving closer to the dance floor. She was using her cheerleader voice, making certain that more than just the people at the rim of the crowd could hear her. Her lips drew up in an evil grin. “What are you waiting for? Come on, your daddy’s not here to catch you.”
“Scarlett, leave her alone.” Mary Jo approached her, but my cousin waved her off as if she were no more important than a fly.
Scarlett’s grin widened as she moved in for the kill. “He doesn’t really care what you do anyway. Haven’t you noticed? He left you. He dumped you here with us.”
Sweat beaded on my forehead. Every eye at the party was fixed on me. I could handle this kind of attention on the stage, but I wasn't performing.
My stomach tied in knots, and my pulse pounded in my ears. I looked away from Scarlett, seeking out any face that wasn't tinged with amusement at my expense. Unfortunately, my eyes fell on the tallest person standing at the back of the dancers. The pity in Tanner’s eyes stung almost as much as Scarlett’s words. Remembering Mary Jo's advice, I wasn't going to fall for it. I was no one's damsel in distress. I unscrewed the lid from the bottle of hard lemonade and took a drink.
Eventually I finished the first drink because it was in my hands. And because far too many people were still staring at me. I'd eaten before we went to the party. One drink wouldn't kill me.
Unfortunately, someone I didn't recognize tossed another bottle to me while the first drink was still clanging around in a metal trash can. Rather than awkwardly walking around with an unopened bottle in my hands, I drank it. I started to understand part of the mystery surrounding alcohol at parties. I'd never been rhythmically-inclined—far from it since Sister Mary Claire always gave me the part of narrator during the yearly Christmas choir concert—but with one drink in my system already, I almost considered hitting the dance floor.
Almost. I wasn't drunk. Not yet, anyway.
That state of being happened somewhere after drink three. I don't think there was a drink four, but I had to admit everything got fuzzy after that last bottle of something clear.
Now things weren't just pleasantly relaxed. They were absolutely fuzzy. It made it easier to ignore the girls pushing me out of their way or intentionally elbowing me in the ribs.
At some point, the party had gotten way more crowded—it had doubled in size. People I knew didn't go to my new high school were watching as I seemed to be fighting a losing battle with gravity, and I didn't even mind.
Instead, I tugged at my sweat-dampened blouse. I didn't realize it was basically see-through when wet, but I don't think it had ever been this wet before. Damn, it was hot out here, even after dark.
The smell of sweat mixed with too-sweet alcohol until I wasn't feeling well. A hot flush jumped to my face at the same time as my stomach lurched.
"Need some help?" A pimply face guy I didn’t know was a little too hands-on as he helped steady me. I wasn't aware that helping someone walk required a hand sliding under their shirt.
"I'm fine."
"You look fine." He persisted, ushering me toward the fringe of trees in the dark corner a distance away from the barn. Now his fingers tickled the waistband of my jeans.
"Stop it." I twisted away from him, only to stumble on the root of a tree.
He took a firmer hold on me, and this time his hand fully snaked beneath my shirt and plunged under the lace trim of my bra.
"She doesn't need your kind of help."
I stumbled again as I was suddenly freed from the guy's hands. For an instant, I wasn't sure if I was going to fall or get sick or both.
I could hear the sound of flesh striking flesh, and the guy who'd been leading me toward the trees let out a kind of girlish yell. The murmur on the dance floor went silent as everyone sensed blood.
"Don't come back here again." The threat in Tanner's voice was clear.
"I wasn't doing anything." The guy protested from the spot where he'd landed on the ground.
“Sure you weren't.” Tanner turned away from the guy he'd just punched and looked at me. “I think it's time for you to go home.”
"I agree."
I followed him through the rows of cars parked haphazardly in the closest thing there was to a clearing. He had a good parking spot. He must have gotten here early.
He opened the door to his truck and paused, staring at me with surprising intensity. “In case you’re wondering, I haven’t been drinking.”
"I hadn't really been thinking about it." I slid into the passenger seat with only moderate difficulty.
"Out here, you need to." Tanner grabbed hold of the seatbelt and carefully positioned it over my waist before locking it with a click at my hips. The door closed with a thud before he walked around the back of the truck to take a seat behind the wheel. He turned the key in the ignition, but I reached out and caught hold of his wrist.
“Why are you being so nice?” Mary Jo’s earlier warning echoed in my memory.
“Despite what you may have heard—I’m not a bad guy.”
That was still up for debate. But right now, I wasn’t in any shape to try to figure out if he was a good guy or not. The engine started with a roar, and the radio was so loud I could feel the bass all the way down to my scalp. How did he have any hearing left at all?
I tried to concentrate on the song so I didn’t have to come up with any kind of conversation. I didn’t normally listen to country, but it was a song that had crossed over to
a few top 40 stations. I remembered hearing it during the beach volleyball tournament the last weekend I was back home, and a wave of sadness washed over me. Unwelcome tears filled my eyes.
No. I was not going to be one of those drunks. No crying at the drop of a hat.
God, I couldn’t believe I was drunk at all. What was I thinking? Letting Scarlett and her friends bully me into taking a drink. One drink would have been fine, but drinks three and four were definitely just stupid.
I was stupid for the way I acted tonight.
The tears burned hotter now. I reached out and spun the radio dial.
“You don’t like country?” Tanner turned to me, shock visible on his face, as if it were impossible for anyone to not like that song.
“No.” I sniffed, glad that the cab of the truck was dark.
A low voice filled the air. A news voice. Crap, how did I manage to find the one talk radio station in this godforsaken place? But it was too late. “The Conroe Police Department is asking for the public’s help in locating Alyssa. She’s 5 feet, 6 inches tall, weighing 130 pounds. She was last seen wearing a gray hoodie and blue jeans. If you have any information as to her whereabouts…”
The news voice stopped abruptly, and Tanner banged his fist against the dash. “Sorry, it cuts out sometime.”
“It’s fine.” I’d been two more descriptive words shy of changing the station anyway. I knew her first name but not her last. I was probably safe.
I thought I was safe.
Tension radiated off Tanner in waves. He might have come to my rescue, but now I could tell he regretted it. At least he didn’t try to fill the drive with pointless conversation. He didn’t talk, and neither did I.
The movement of the truck combined with the darkness of the almost starless night mixed with I-definitely-didn’t-know-how-many drinks were all working together to turn my uncomfortably fuzzy feeling into outright confusion.
I closed my eyes, and I wasn’t driving down the dirt road in the middle of the piney woods anymore. I wasn’t even sure if I was in Texas. In my mind’s eye, I was someplace bright and loud. Someplace I’d never been before.