by Marni Bates
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. I was sorry—for both of us. “I wish I were the girl you’re looking for. But I’m just ... not.”
Patrick didn’t just shrug and say, “Well, we can always be friends.” Instead his anger flowed. “That’s not it. You think you can do better than me, don’t you?” The disgust in his voice would have made me step back if I hadn’t already been trapped by the porch.
“What? No!”
“You think now that you’re famous, you’re too good for someone in high school.” The way he eyed my dress made me feel exposed. “Or maybe I’m just not rich enough. Is that why you’ve been throwing yourself at Logan and Spencer?”
A hard slap across my face would have felt less painful.
“Wow.” That’s all I could say for a second because really, what else was there? “From love to gold digger in under thirty seconds. That’s ... wow. I guess if you had really loved me, you would’ve called me a slut.”
I stood up straighter and released the railing. Time to put all the weight on my own two feet.
“If you think I pursue guys based on their bank accounts, then you don’t know me at all.” I studied him carefully. “That’s more your style, right? You only started pouring on the charm after Tim said I was cool. You would’ve dumped me if I couldn’t get your photo in the papers.” My stomach clenched viciously. “And I was stupid enough to buy into it. I think you should leave now.”
“You’re going to regret this, Mackenzie.” His voice was steady now. Cold and steady.
“Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But soon and for the rest of my life.” I quoted Casablanca but gave the line way more sarcasm than Humphrey Bogart had.
“What?” His stiffness wavered into confusion.
“Nothing ... famous movie line. Forget it.”
“You, Mackenzie,” he said slowly, “have a thesaurus where your heart should be.”
And with that he disappeared into the house.
“Encyclopedia,” I corrected as I stared out into the night. It was beautiful and lonesome at the same time, with small lights illuminating the pathway from the fountain to the gazebo. “I have an encyclopedia where my heart should be.”
That’s what I muttered when I saw exactly where Logan and Chelsea had gone. They were standing in the center of the gazebo, and if I hadn’t been looking at the structure, willing myself not to cry over Patrick, I never would have seen Chelsea reach up, take Logan’s face in her hands, and kiss him.
So the off again was definitely on again.
And I knew then that Patrick was very wrong about my heart, because if it had actually been an encyclopedia I could have watched it all with perfect composure. Instead, I turned resolutely and marched back into the party.
I figured that alcohol was a heartache and teenage rebellion cliché for a reason. It was time for me to give it a try.
Which, as far as plans go, might have been my worst one yet.
Chapter 28
I drafted Spencer right off. Considering that he was the only person I knew beyond a causal “hey, how’s it going?” in the hallways, that might not be too surprising.
And it seemed to me that it’s a good idea to explore new territory with a guide who’s familiar with the route—kind of like diving with a buddy.
Anyhow, I grabbed his arm, but this time it was to steer him away from a group of girls and toward the makeshift bar.
“Not that I don’t like your aggressive tactics, but ...” He paused when he saw the way my eyes focused on the alcohol. “What’s going on?”
I smiled, and for the first time since I’d come to that stupid party, I started to relax. “You are going to pour me a drink.”
His grin widened. “Am I, now?”
“Yep.” I leaned forward and pulled a clean red plastic cup from a stack. “What do you recommend?”
“That depends. What do you like?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea, and I doubt I’ll enjoy any of it.”
“But you still want to drink?”
I handed him the cup. “Fill ’er up.”
“Okay, so we can get you some girly drink that tastes like fruit, or”—he poured liquid into the cup—“you can take this shot of tequila and chase it with some lime.”
“Faulty dilemma,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Faulty dilemma fallacy. You only gave two options, and ... just hand it over.”
In a few practiced moves, Spencer had salt on my hand and a slice of lime oozing on the countertop.
“Okay, it’s simple. Salt. Shot. Lime. Got it?”
I ran through it a few times in my head. Salt, shot, lime. Salt, shot, lime. Oh, my god, have I lost my mind?! This is so NOT me!
“Got it.”
“Okay. Go.”
We were starting to generate a small crowd. I guess people wanted to see strait-laced Mackenzie Wellesley take her first shot. Talk about peer pressure, I was surrounded by strangers who were all saying stuff like, “You’ve got this!” and “You can do it!”
I licked the salt in my palm, and tossed back the tequila like I’d seen in the movies.
I very nearly choked.
It felt like I’d been blasted by a furnace. A strange fire cruised down my throat, followed closely by the taste of something sharp—almost acidic. Hastily I sucked on the lime while everyone around me cheered. When I looked up at Spencer, the warmth had seeped to my stomach and pooled there, glowing while the tang of the lime juice coated my mouth.
“I did it!” Even as I held up the empty cup I couldn’t believe it. I don’t know what I expected: divine intervention, a parent storming in, or maybe a concerned friend whisking me away. But I never thought I’d have the guts to do a shot of tequila.
“Did you see that?!” I demanded to Spencer. “I did it!”
“Yeah, downed it like a champ. Want another one?”
The warmth felt really good, especially after Patrick had flash-frozen me. And maybe it was my imagination, but I already felt less tense.
“I’m in!” I decided. Another cheer rose as I smiled at everyone. “Who wants to join me?”
Half an hour later I was in a very happy place. Spencer poured the drinks until a crash from the kitchen forced him to leave his post. Another hockey player named Kevin was more than happy to fill in for him. I felt like I was floating—only connected to my body through a tenuous thread. It would have disconcerted me if it hadn’t been for the fact that I rather enjoyed the sensation.
“This is great!” I told Kevin and his girlfriend, Annie, happily as I sucked on my lime. “You guys are so cool! Isn’t it crazy that we go to the same school and we’ve never really talked?”
They laughed and agreed in the way that people who are tipsy support people who are drunk.
I turned to Annie. “You are really pretty. I bet it’d be fun to be you. Kevin, don’t you think it’d be fun to be Annie?”
Lady Gaga came pounding through the speakers.
“We have to dance!” I declared. “It’s ‘Poker Face.’ You have to dance!” I didn’t give them time to protest. Laughing, the three of us joined the masses on the makeshift dance floor that was formerly a living room. My whole body felt loose, whether from the alcohol or the music I couldn’t be sure, and I never wanted my body to stop absorbing every beat.
“Melanie!” I hollered when I saw her talking to Dylan in a corner away from the action. I raced over. “You have to dance with me! You should meet Kevin and Annie too.”
“Sure,” she said agreeably, but her eyebrows bunched together as she examined me. “Mackenzie, are you okay?”
“I’m great! Well, except for the encyclopedia.”
Dylan followed us to the dance floor, and Melanie turned to him in alarm. “Did you understand that?”
He shook his head and struggled to hold me in place. “Mackenzie, have you taken anything?”
“Salt, shot, lime. Can you believe it!? I don’t know what I expec
ted, but it feels really warm. Heat is just radiating from me—like I’m nuclear or something. Like I’m a nuclear bomb! I’m the bomb! Has anyone considered alcohol as an energy source?” I concentrated on getting my words out correctly. “Do I look like a bobblehead? Because I can’t stop nodding. I wonder if dashboard hula girls feel like this.”
Dylan started pulling me toward the front door.
“Why is everyone being dragged tonight?” I asked no one in particular. “What’s wrong with walking? I like walking. It’s nice. Rollerblading is better, but you can’t do that here.”
“Dylan, what are we going to do with her?” Melanie asked him urgently. “She’s trashed. We can’t let your mom see her like this.”
I smiled sleepily at Melanie as my energy drained out. I put an arm around Dylan’s shoulder.
“Mom will be okay, but do I have to go back? I’ll just sleep on Dylan.” I let my head rest against his. “You’re a really great brother. I don’t tell you that enough. Oh, and Dad should have asked about you today.”
I felt Dylan stiffen. “Dad called?”
“Yeah. Guess I had to become famous to get us a phone call.” He wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me upright. “He shouldn’t have left you,” I whispered, snuggling closer. “You’re the best.”
“What happened to her?”
My head jerked up at the sound of Logan’s voice. “Oh, hey! Great party. I think the world is spinning now.” I dimly noticed Spencer and Chelsea right next to him. “Hey, buddy. Salt, shot, lime,” I repeated. “Still got it!”
Logan turned on Spencer. “How many shots did she have?”
“About two and a half when I left. I was going to cut her off, Logan. I swear!”
Logan turned up my face so I could look into his eyes. “Okay, Mack. Did you drink after Spencer left?”
“Sure,” I said brightly, getting my second wind. Maybe because the touch of his fingers on my face made me feel like I’d just downed another shot. “With Kevin and Annie.”
“Shit!” was Dylan’s way of summing up the situation.
I nudged him with my elbow.
“Language!” I said in my best imitation of our mom.
“Okay, we need to sober her up. How are you guys getting home?”
“Corey was going to pick us up later,” Melanie told him nervously. “After his date. But I don’t think she’s going to be upright that long.”
Logan nodded. “Okay. Are the two of you sober?” He waited for Dylan’s affirmative before continuing. “Good. Then you can stay here and man my post while I drive her back.”
“Of course you will,” Chelsea snarled. “You’re such an idiot!” Then she flounced off.
“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise.” I looked up at Spencer, who was staring at me with a mixture of concern and guilt. “It really is paradise. You’re house is ridiculous. It’s even got a fountain!” I poked Dylan. “Did you see the fountain? Maybe we should all go see the fountain.”
But no one appeared to be listening to me anymore. Logan was pulling car keys from his jacket and handing them to Dylan.
“Don’t give these back unless you’re sure. There are more in the cabinet by the bar. You got it?”
“I’ve got it.”
“Okay. Spencer, you’re officially down one designated driver. Find a replacement for me fast. Let’s get her to the car.”
But before Logan could drape my free arm over his shoulder, Dylan said in a voice that was deadly serious. “This is my sister, man. Hurt her and I’ll hurt you. We clear on that?”
It was sweet of him to warn off a high school boy who could trash him. Then again, Dylan would put up one hell of a fight.
“We’re clear.”
“Hey!” I protested as Logan took hold of me. “I’m right here! I’m fine. That was really great of you, Dylan, but I can take care of myself.” I bunched my hands into fists. “See!”
“Yeah, you’re ferocious.”
I turned to Melanie. “You know what I mean, right? They’re acting like I’m a damsel in distress and I’m not!”
I admit that last part sounded pretty whiney.
“No, you’re just a damsel.” She opened the passenger’s door of Logan’s car.
“Wow, that was quick.” It hit me then that I was leaving the party. “Wait! Just give me a second, I can snap out of this. Melanie. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m so sorry I’ve ruined our first sleepover!”
She brushed my hair back. “It’s fine, Mackenzie. Just feel better, okay?”
And with that, my seat belt was clicked into place and I sped away from my first high school party smelling like a bar floor and feeling worse ... with Logan.
Yeah, I didn’t see that one coming.
Chapter 29
“God, I’m stupid,” I told Logan as I swayed in my seat. The world didn’t want to stop spinning.
“No, you’re not.” Logan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Usually.” “You’re wrong. I’m stupid. I’m really stupid. I’m just good at hiding it.” I craned my head to look at him. “Did you know that?” “Nope. Must have fooled me.”
I sat up straighter. “Really? I did? Because you’re ...” I considered for a moment. “Tough. You’ve got this look when you stare really hard.” I mimicked his expression, “It’s like you’ve got X-ray eyes!” “X-ray eyes,” he repeated, and I thought I heard amusement in his voice.
“Yeah! It’s like you know what everyone is thinking. Although you can be pretty dumb too, no offense.” I pressed my nose against the window and enjoyed the coolness. “When will the world stop spinning?” “Soon. So I can be dumb?”
“Oh, yeah. But just with girls, I think. Otherwise you’re way smart. God, I’m dumb.” “You’ve mentioned that already.”
“Okay. I don’t want to be repetitive. Why did I drink so much? That was not smart.” I struggled against my seat belt to face Logan. “And I’m always very responsible. Mackenzie Wellesley never does stuff like this. She knows better than to do tequila shots at a party. Bad decision.” “Ease up on yourself, Mack. So what do you mean, I’m dumb with girls?” “Well, first, you like Chelsea Halloway. That’s pretty dumb.” “I do.” I couldn’t tell if he said it as a question or a statement.
“Either that or you like her boobs.” I chuckled. “Maybe I should shut up now.” “Oh, no, please. Enlighten me.”
“Well, someday you guys will have Notable babies. They’ll probably have superior immune systems, so that’s a plus.” I could feel the intensity of Logan’s stare. “Of course the kids might become calculating, cutthroat, and cruel ... so there’s that.” I leaned back against the seat as the world tilted again. “Calculating, cutthroat, and cruel,” I repeated. “Well, I can still appreciate a good alliteration. That makes me smart, right?” “Right.”
“I just need to work on my social skills. Although people seemed to like me tonight.” I tugged on his sleeve, enjoying the feel of plain cotton between my fingers. “Did’ya see that?” “Yeah.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “I noticed.”
I leaned toward him to whisper confidentially, “I think it’s the dress.” He only studied me for a second while he idled at a red light, but it was long enough to make my pulse pound. “It’s one hell of a dress, Mack.” “Thanks. My bra is cute too. See?” I tugged my halter strap so that a small corner of my bra was visible. I thought the car jerked, but that could have just been me.
“Jesus! Don’t do that!”
I struggled to keep my eyes open. “Okay, this is bad news bears.” “No kidding.”
“I can’t believe I’m drunk ... in your car. Tomorrow Mackenzie is going to feel really stupid.” My stomach grumbled loudly. “You’re not supposed to drink on an empty stomach, are you? I guess that’s also bad news bears.” “Of course you didn’t eat anything first. Perfect.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Hell, you’re going to my house, Mack.” “Ex-cuse me?” I said with self-righteous indignation. “You can�
��t do that!” “Oh yeah? Why’s that, Mack?”
“Because of Chelsea!”
“And what,” he inquired, “does Chelsea have to do with this?” At the moment, I wasn’t entirely sure. “She’ll, uh ... find out?” “And ...”
I didn’t have anything past that.
“Okay,” I said. “Until the world stops spinning. It will stop, right? Because I don’t like this anymore.” “You’ll be fine. You just won’t want alcohol for a while.”
I tried to snuggle against the car door. “But the warmth was nice! It almost made up for Patrick saying I’m a Skanky McSlut.” I sighed. “Language.” “Why’d he say that?”
Was it just my imagination or was there a thread of anger in his voice?
“‘Well, first he said he was in love with me.”
“Well, that makes perfect sense, then.”
I laughed quietly and shut my eyes. The world kept swaying.
“He thinks I said no because of you ... and Spencer.”
“What about us?”
I tried to smile, but my face didn’t seem to be cooperating. “Even I got that part. Climbing the social ladder. You guys are hot, rich Notables. Maybe if I were into the popular scene, it wouldn’t sound as crazy.” I yawned. “I didn’t tell him it was strike one.” “Stay awake, Mack. Almost there. Is that a strike against me or Patrick?” “You, of course. Strike one: you’re a Notable. Strike two: Chelsea. And strike three: you can be nice.” Logan pulled into his driveway. “Wait a second. I was eliminated because I’m too nice. What kind of bullshit reason is that?” I tried to think it through, but my brain was awfully foggy. “Well, you’re a Notable and you’re never clumsy and you never look bad. Ever. It’s not fair. Plus, even without Chelsea and Notable babies, everyone would wonder, ‘What’s he doing with her?’ And then you’d say, ‘Hmm, good question, ’ and you’d dump me. That wouldn’t be nice.” “So you don’t like that I’m popular and can walk without tripping.” He said it slowly to convey my sheer stupidity. “It never occurred to you that I might not do the dumping?” “No,” I said honestly. “You like Chelsea. Want to hear something crazy?” “Sure.”