“My problem?” he said, his voice rising above the crowd and music so the people down by the keg could no doubt hear us. “Where have you been, huh? Who’ve you been with? Don’t ask me what my problem is. I have every right to have a problem!” He took a step toward me and another swig of his beer, his glassy eyes wide and wild.
“I’ve been at Sunny’s, which is exactly where I said I’d be.” I gritted my teeth to keep from yelling because I suspected people were trying to listen in. The kids from my high school loved nothing more than a good bout of drama, and anyone who saw Logan drag me away from the keg would know something was up. “I can’t think of what your problem would be.”
He made this loud hrmph noise and wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, his eyes grazing over my head toward the crowd at the keg. Then he leaned in close, his mouth warm and his breath sour from beer. He closed his fingers tightly around my wrist. “You’re a fucking liar,” he whispered.
I tried to pry my wrist free from his pinching fingers, but he held me there and squeezed even tighter, shaking me so my beer fell from my other hand and splashed across the ground. I bit back a yelp, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting me. Instead I smiled at him and held up my chin defiantly, even though I could feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes from the screaming pain in my wrist.
“You’re drunk,” I said through clenched teeth. “We should get someone to drive you home.”
He grabbed the free hand that had held my beer and pinned it behind my back, twisting my wrist so a sharp jab of pain shot up my arm. I couldn’t help it; a yelp escaped my mouth and a tear slid down my cheek.
“Aww, does that hurt?” He sneered and gave my wrist another twist, this one so hard my vision blurred and my knees felt like they might buckle underneath me. Everything around me seemed to dip and swim in and out of focus. “Well, it’s nothing compared to the way you’re hurting me,” he said, shaking me again and pressing me back against the wooden frame.
I turned my face away from his and squeezed my eyes closed, bracing myself for whatever it was he was about to do. Normally I would have found something bitchy to say to him, something to let him know what an asshole he was, but the blood rushed in my ears, pulsing with the rhythm of the music spilling from Greg Younger’s truck, and I couldn’t think straight. Instead, I closed my eyes and waited for the blow that must be coming.
I heard his lips part as if he was about to say something, but he was cut short when Sunny’s voice sliced through the darkness. I’d never been so glad to hear her in all the time I’d known her.
“Enough with the make-out session,” she yelled as she carefully tromped toward us in her gigantic stilettos. She shouted it loudly enough so the people eavesdropping near the keg could hear, and then for good measure she added, “Jeez, get a room already! This is a family function, people. Let’s keep it clean.”
Logan released my arms and glared at the person standing next to Sunny. I collapsed against the house, my legs folding underneath me. I had to fight to keep the tears from flowing any more than they already were.
“What the fuck do you want?” Logan asked, ignoring Sunny so he could fix his steely gaze on Justin. His fists flexed and un-flexed at his sides while he gave Justin a look that could fry an ant without a magnifying glass.
“Me?” Justin asked, looking around as though there might be someone else hiding behind the shadows of the unfinished home. “I just came to see what everyone was whispering about.” To me, he added, “Hey, Taylor, when’d you get here?”
It was amazing how friendly and honest the question sounded. Anyone else would have thought he was genuinely curious about when I arrived, but it was clear he understood what was happening by the way his mouth was set. The corners that were usually turned up in an is-he-or-isn’t-he-grinning smile were pressed down in a drawn, flat line. I’d never seen him look so serious.
Logan looked back and forth from me to Justin like he was trying to solve a riddle, his brow furrowing as he drained his beer and tossed the empty cup on the ground.
“A few minutes ago,” I answered. “I came with Sunny.” I aimed the last sentence at Logan, wanting to replace all four of the words with asshole for his benefit.
“Can I get some toilet paper?” Sunny asked, walking toward me and linking her arm through mine. “I need to go to The Ladies’ Room. You grabbed some before we left my house, right?”
I nodded solemnly and pulled the roll of paper from my purse, holding it up for Logan as further proof that I was at Sunny’s and not wherever it was he imagined me to be. Sunny gently took my arm and pulled me away from the back of the house frame.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before I wet my pants.”
Justin said something to Logan, but Sunny shuffled me away too quickly and the words were lost in the din of the crowd and the music. I could only make out the muffled sound of his voice, an undeniable edge to whatever it was he said to Logan.
“You okay?” Sunny whispered once we were out of earshot. I nodded and ran my fingers underneath my eyes to wipe away any mascara that might have run. My arm throbbed and my wrist was red and achy. It took everything I had not to break down and cry right then and there, but I didn’t want to be one of those girls. There were always a few at the end of a night at The Fields, boo-hooing into their empty beer cups over some drunken drama usually involving a guy. I didn’t want people to think I was one of them. I didn’t want anyone to know what had happened.
“Don’t worry. Most people are already too drunk to notice you guys were fighting. And anyone who did now thinks you guys were just mugging down,” Sunny said as she squatted behind the back of the house that was our designated restroom. Then, because she could tell I needed a good laugh, she added, “ARRRRrrrr you sure you’re okay?” in her pirate voice, hooking her finger and squinting her eye at me for emphasis.
A cluster of Sunflowers stuck out among the weeds behind the house. They looked out of place in the darkness, like bright smiling suns that didn’t know it was nighttime. I felt like they were faking it for my benefit and for a second I thought about picking one and taking it with me. Instead, I took inspiration from them and looked back at Sunny with a forced smile.
“I need another beer.” I rubbed my wrist to get the feeling back into it. “I dropped mine back there.”
Sunny nodded and looked at me like she wanted to say something else, but instead she reached her hand out for the toilet paper and said, “I could use a topper too. TP, please?”
The crowd had swollen to twice its usual size when we emerged from the back of The Ladies’ Room. It seemed like our entire high school was at The Fields that night, hundreds of bodies silhouetted against the various car headlights that took turns lighting the center field. Even douche-waffle Brandon Blakes was there, looking lost and uncomfortable as he stared into a full cup of beer and watched the makeshift dance floor awkwardly. I’d never seen him at The Fields before; I always assumed he spent his Saturday nights taking practice SAT tests.
Someone brought two more kegs, which was a good thing because the first one floated not long after Sunny and I got back from The Ladies’ Room. We joined the growing line of kids waiting to fill their plastic cups, Sunny surveying the crowd with distaste.
“If I knew it was amateur night, I would have stayed home,” said Sunny, her eyes resting on Brandon. She gave him a hard glare from underneath a row of spiky black lashes. “Just stay away from the stereo, okay Brandon? Nobody wants to listen to your homo show choir bullshit.”
Brandon’s cheeks flared red. When he caught my eye I quickly looked away from him, not feeling much like coming to the defense of someone who always had it out for me in class. Although, to be fair, I wasn’t really in the mood to come to anyone’s defense right then.
We filled up our cups and elbowed our way out of the mass of bodies around the kegs.
“Don’t we have rules against letting the riff-raff come out here?”
Sunny asked, taking a swig of her beer and glancing around at the swelling crowd like she’d smelled something sour. “This place has gone to shit. Come on, let’s find our people.”
We skirted the perimeter of the party as we looked for the rest of our friends. Sunny waved and blew kisses at different people. I tried to look like I was having the time of my life while keeping my eyes open for Logan, torn between wanting to hide from him and wanting to find him so I could knee him in the balls.
I was so busy watching for Logan that I didn’t see Justin coming toward us, and I ran head-first into him, spilling beer number two for the evening. If the universe wanted me to quit drinking, it sure picked a crappy night to start relaying the message.
“Ugh, I’m so sorry!” I said, staring uselessly at his dripping shirt front. I thought about offering him some toilet paper to wipe up the mess, but that would have only made it worse, so instead I stood there staring at him with my arms dangling pointlessly at my sides. He looked at me with the same flat-line frown he had earlier. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me for running into him or thinking about the Logan thing. Either way, seeing him so serious made me uncomfortable.
“Jeez, Taylor, are you trying to drown the poor guy?” said Sunny, giving Justin one of her winning ear-to-ear grins. “Where’d you run off to, Justin? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
She pouted her bottom lip and batted her lashes as she took several steps toward him, shrinking the space between them from a few feet to a few inches. I watched numbly as she hooked her fingers through one of the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him the remaining few inches toward her so they were pressed together like two pieces of bread. It all happened in slow motion, her fingers separating and linking through the denim, each one a pointed claw as she sank her hands into him. She might as well have peed on him to mark her territory, the intention was that clear. It was a move that said, “He’s mine. Game over, bitch.”
The conversation I’d overheard in the garage suddenly became crystal clear. It was so obvious I was ashamed at how easily I’d dismissed the idea. Of course they were talking about me. Sunny told Amber and Jenny she’d hooked up with Justin and asked them not to tell me until she could find a way to break the news. A perfect end to a perfectly crappy night.
I turned away so they wouldn’t see my eyes welling up with frustrated tears. Not only because I’d obviously lost Justin to Sunny, but because I was dumb enough to think I stood a chance. Because Logan was probably the best I could do. Because Sunny would never see Justin for what he really was. Because I wanted to go home and crawl under my bed and die. Because, because, because.
I must have looked like a crazy person barreling toward the keg, but I didn’t care. I needed to get as far away from Sunny and Justin as possible. I marched up to the front of the line and used the sharp end of my elbow to shove a girl I didn’t recognize away from the tap. She started to yell something at me, but the look on my face must have been terrifying. She backed away, both hands raised defensively like she thought I might attack her. And she wasn’t far off base. It would have felt good to hit something, even better to hit someone, and her head was kind of shaped like Sunny’s and that was appealing.
Instead I pumped the tap like I was drilling for oil, taking breaks to wipe away the tears that managed to leak from my eyes despite my best efforts to hold them in.
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t have to look up to know it was Justin who asked the question. For a moment I was embarrassed that he might have followed me to the keg, watching me steamroll my way through the crowd of people. But why should I care anymore? I didn’t have anything else to lose.
The sound of his voice said he wasn’t asking me what was I literally doing, but I answered that way anyway.
“I’m getting a beer.” I wiped away another tear with the back of my arm and hoped he couldn’t see me crying through the darkness.
“I can see that. Here, let me.” He took the cup and filled it, tipping the glass so it wouldn’t foam. Then he handed it back and motioned for me to follow him away from the keg. I did, only because I didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.
We stood silently for a few minutes, or maybe it was only a few seconds. It felt like an eternity, because he still wore a drawn expression. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“You’re so much better than all of this, Taylor,” he finally said.
I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but then I closed it. I didn’t really care. Obviously I wasn’t good enough for him. Obviously I’d overanalyzed the whole staring thing, thinking there was something more between us than there really was. I bet he only asked me to The Fields because he knew I’d bring Sunny. I should have been used to playing second fiddle to Sunny by that point, but it still stung.
Sunny bounded up then, wedging herself between me and Justin so we were both forced to look at her and not each other. Her timing was annoyingly impeccable as always.
“Where’s mine?” she asked, eyeing my beer. I handed it to her. She might as well take my beer too.
She took a long sip before giving us one of her wicked grins. “This place blows. It’s like freshman city and I’m over it. Why don’t we go back to my house for a late-night dip? What do you guys say?”
“Sounds peachy,” I answered, my voice thick with bitterness. I didn’t even bother trying to hide my anger anymore. “Let’s go.” I led the charge across The Fields toward Sunny’s car. Anything was better than the horrible fields, the pulsing music, and all of the people I wanted to get away from.
She gave me a funny look when she caught up to me and linked her arm through mine. “Jenny and Amber are already rounding everyone up. Do you mind driving?” She aimed the last question at Justin before tossing him the keys to The Bee.
When we got to the car, I was relegated to the back seat and realized too late I’d chosen the same side Jenny had to squeeze into earlier. I fought back the urge to hit something again as I squished myself behind the front passenger seat, watching as Sunny stretched her legs out across the front dash.
“Somebody’s in a foul mood,” Sunny said as she reapplied her lip gloss and caught sight of my face in the mirror. She must have sensed I was a funnel cloud about to touch ground because she pulled the seat forward and passed me the vodka-OJ container without another word.
I slipped a cigarette from the pack sitting on the center console and lit it, pulling in a long, hard breath so the cherry glowed deeply in the dim light of the back seat. I felt like the cigarette right then: hot and angry. Screw my vow, I thought. I was not going to relax. I didn’t give a shit about being nice to Sunny. Not anymore.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SNOWDRIFTS
The snow had been falling straight and steady onto the staircase for a while. I still couldn’t figure out what it meant or why it was there, but it seemed to mute out whatever part of my brain made the ghosts appear because I hadn’t seen one since before the first flake fell. It was a beautiful and welcome reprieve.
It fell heavily enough to create small drifts up and down the steps, glittering and white in daylight. To pass the time I made a game out of it, hopping from snowdrift to snowdrift while trying not to lose my balance—kind of like a winter version of hopscotch. Which didn’t sound exciting, but I had limited forms of entertainment up there. I was just working with what I’d been given.
I also tried throwing snowballs to see if they’d stick against the invisible side of the stairs. They didn’t. I must have tried a dozen or so times, bunching up the snow so it was tight and compact before launching it toward the edge of the stairs. Sure enough, it went right over the side, like there was nothing there to hold it in. Yet when I tried to stick a hand or foot over the edge, I couldn’t. It was like I was trapped inside a giant snow globe, but everything else was free to go where it wanted.
The snowflakes seemed larger and more distinct than regular snowflakes. They were so large I could
make out the designs on each one, like tiny holes had been punched into white paper in a million different combinations. I always thought snow looked like a bunch of fluffy white dots falling from the sky, not that I’d seen enough of it to really have an opinion. It rarely snowed back home.
I lifted my foot to take another step and nearly tumbled forward. The step in front of me was shallower than previous steps, and I lost my balance when my foot came down lower than I expected. The next step was slightly shorter, and then the next one even shorter than that, as if the staircase was flattening out. I squinted ahead to see if I was right, but my vision blurred from a flurry of white. Was the snow falling harder than it had been a moment before? I could barely make out what was in front of me.
I squinted again, but a gust of white flakes swallowed up the staircase, blowing around me in a thickening cloud until I could only see a foot or so ahead. Blustering—that was the word for it. The snow was suddenly blustering into a dense, white storm.
I folded my arms around my body. It wasn’t that the air was cold, but the snow sent shivers down my spine when it touched my bare skin, and there was so much of it falling from the sky that I was practically covered. Keeping my chin down, I stepped upward carefully, but my foot fell down against a level surface, and I realized the steps had completely flattened out. My flip-flops crunched through several inches of snow, but beneath it was smooth, step-less ground. What had happened to the staircase? Was it possible I had reached the top? If I could see through the snow, I might be able to tell where I was, but it was like trying to see through a wall—everything was blotted out.
Somewhere in the distance I heard laughter. The sound tinkled through the storm like a wind chime, light and happy.
Where the Staircase Ends Page 11