The Duke of Bannerman Prep

by Katie Nelson

  Dressed in her pink scrubs, Mom came back into the kitchen, and grabbed her purse and keys. She kissed the top of Sam’s head, then mine.

  “We didn’t get to talk about everything. When are you going back?”

  In that moment, I knew I had a choice to make. I could quit and come home. Mom had already told me it was an option. I knew she’d support me. And a part of me really wanted to. But I also knew it was time to grow up. Time to quit being such a baby. Life wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t supposed to be easy. If she could work so hard for our family, so could I.

  “Sunday. I have some homework to catch up on. Then there’s a party tomorrow night.”

  Mom smiled. “Sounds like fun. We’ll talk over breakfast.”

  She messed up my hair and rushed out the door.

  Abby went to the fridge and pulled out a can of Diet Coke. She threw it to me, then grabbed another for herself. As I popped mine open, she asked, “You’re going to that party?”

  I took a drink, feeling the bubbles slide down my throat. “Guess so.”

  “I hear they’re legendary.”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  “This, I’ve got to see.”

  “Sweet,” I said, staring at my plate. “But I actually need you to do me a favor first.”

  “What?” Abby waited until I looked up.

  “I need you to make a phone call. Pretend to be Mom. I’m kinda AWOL at the moment.”

  She laughed. “Of course you are. Who’s on duty tonight?”

  “Mr. Simpson, I think.”

  “Dorm Daddy,” Abby said, shaking her head. “This’ll be easy. Men can’t resist a crying single mom.”

  I walked over to the counter and picked up the phone. “While you’re at it, tell him I’ll be here all weekend. That way there won’t be any issues getting to the party.”

  “You little deviant.” Abby smiled and dialed the number. By the time she hung up, Mr. Simpson had not only forgiven the fact that I’d left without signing out, but had also excused me from my room inspection and my chores for the whole weekend.

  I cut the engine and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Abby’s last text flashed on the screen: Blake’s picking me up. Meet you there.

  I figured I could either sit in my truck and wait for them like the pathetic loser that I was, or I could walk into the party by myself. I checked the time. 8:47. I hadn’t realized I’d been speeding on the way over. Headlights flashed in my rearview mirror, followed quickly by the sound of car doors slamming. I opened my door, stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, and walked past the parked cars that lined the driveway, toward the Duke’s house. It glowed too bright against the blackness of the night sky and the ocean in the distance.

  The pulsing bassline hit me as soon as I stepped onto the lawn. Some techno song that sounded like every other techno song—loud enough to make conversation nearly impossible, which was all anyone wanted at a party. Through the leaded glass windows in the massive double doors, I could see the place was already packed, but I stopped on the porch and stared at those windows. They were beautiful, practically a work of art, but they looked so fragile, like they could shatter if the wind was too strong.

  I pictured my duplex back home with its two deadbolts and the chain lock on the door, even though we had nothing worth stealing. It was seeing this—not the pool house or the six-car garage or the view of the ocean in the distance, but just the doors themselves—that made me finally understand who the Duke was.

  This was money and luxury and privilege beyond anything I’d ever imagined. I didn’t belong here, but I desperately wanted to see more. I pulled on the bronze knob and walked inside.

  It was hot. Too many bodies pressed too close together, breathing in one another’s pepperoni and sour-cream-and-onion breath, sipping beer from red plastic cups every time there was a pause in the conversation. They were everywhere. Lining the curving staircase, leaning over the banister from the second story, sitting on sofas and dancing in clusters.

  I didn’t recognize a single person.

  I pushed my way toward the back of the house, looking for someone I knew, or at the very least, a place where I could hang out. The kitchen was even more crowded. Staring at the long granite countertop piled with food, I couldn’t help but try to add up what it all must have cost. Between the dozens of pizza boxes, buckets of chicken, vats of guacamole and salsa, and bowls filled with every kind of cookie and chip imaginable, I figured I was looking at a couple thousand, at least. And that didn’t even include the alcohol.

  “Looking for someone?”

  I turned and saw Garrett approaching, a cup in each hand. His face had that blotchy, flushed look, and I wondered how long he’d been here to already be this drunk. He held a cup out to me, spilling a bunch of beer on the carpet in the process.

  “Here. No hard feelings. ’Bout yesterday, in class. Iss not personal.”

  I shook my head. “I know. It’s fine. I’m cool.”

  He shoved the cup in my hand. I didn’t want it, but it was easier to take it than try to explain anything to him.

  “You seen Kelsey anywhere?”

  Garrett threw his head back and laughed, rocking from his heels to his toes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “One thing you gotta know about Cinco,” Garrett said, his arm slung over my shoulder, his breath foggy against my face. “She doesn’t date any of us. Her personal rule.”

  Then he pointed to an upstairs loft that overlooked the pool and deck outside. She was standing next to some self-important asshat who was probably the son of a senator or congressman or something. She was listening to him, but based on the way his arms were flailing around while he talked, I guessed that he wouldn’t even remember her in the morning.

  “Why?” I asked. Garrett had drained his cup and was looking around for a refill. I nudged him with my shoulder.

  “Do I look like a chick? I have no idea.” Garrett crushed his cup and dropped it on the ground. “I need another. Want one?” He wandered away before I had a chance to answer.

  My phone beeped. It was Abby. I needed some air, so I told her to meet me by the pool. It was only slightly less chaotic outside. There was an open spot on a bench, and I took it. But then the chicken fight in the water got ugly. A girl in a bikini got shoved off the shoulders of some guy, and she went down hard, splashing my jeans. I got up and moved over to one of the portable heaters.

  I jumped out of the way as a bunch of guys with Super Soakers ran past, then I waved to Abby as she made her way across the deck.

  “Do you know who I just saw?” Abby asked, ignoring the guys watching her. “Claire Carlson. From that singing show? She got second place, but supposedly has a better recording contract than the winner.”

  “Wow,” I said. We both looked around and took in the whole scene. “What are you going to try first? Sumo wrestling or those big hamster balls?” I tilted my head to the spot on the lawn where both were set up. One of the big inflatable balls rolled to a stop and a guy climbed out, barely able to walk. He made it three steps before he dropped to his knees and puked.

  “Ew. Disgusting,” Abby said.

  “It’s wild, isn’t it?”

  “Totally.” She took the beer from my hand. “Since when do you drink?”

  “I’m not. Some guy gave it to me. I haven’t touched it.”

  She raised her eyebrows and took a sip.

  Someone slapped my back. I turned and saw Tomas behind me, holding hands with a girl shivering in a sundress. “Hey! You made it!”

  “Hey,” I replied. Stepping away, I motioned to the heater. “Here. You guys can stand over here and warm up.”

  Tomas shook his head. “We’re good. How did you get here? You drive that Bronco?”

  I nodded. My truck was a constant source of amazement for these people. They couldn’t fathom that anything worth less than ten thousand dollars could still run.

  “I don’t know how you drive that thing, dude. Does
n’t sitting in it make you want to join the NRA, stuff some dip in your cheek, and marry your cousin?” The girl standing next to him laughed, despite her shivering. Tomas noticed Abby. “We meet again. You going to introduce me this time?”

  “This is Abby. My cousin.”

  “No way,” he doubled over, spilling some of his beer onto the deck. “I gotta tell the guys.” He pulled the girl along with him and walked toward the house.

  Before he had even made it a few steps away, Abby asked, “Is that guy drunk, or just a douche?”

  I looked over my shoulder as Tomas walked into the house. “A little of both.”

  Abby wanted a refill, so we wandered over to the food table. I grabbed an empty cup, found a spigot on the side of the deck, filled it with lukewarm water, and took a sip. It tasted like dirt and eggs.

  “So where’s Blake?”

  Abby shrugged.

  I looked up at the balcony, but Kelsey was gone. The Duke was there, leaning against the railing, surrounded by a trio of girls. We made eye contact, and he nodded and smiled. A second later, he recognized Abby. He leaned in and said something to the girls, then walked back inside.

  A few minutes later, he reappeared on the deck, making his way through groups of people, tossing his head to get his hair out of his eyes. “You made it,” he said, standing next to me, but looking at Abby. She took a slow drink, licking her lips. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head slightly. She ignored me.

  “I like your house,” she said. “But I’m a little disappointed.”

  He leaned in closer to her. “Why’s that?”

  Abby looked around. “I don’t see a truckload of Laffy Taffy.”

  He laughed, stepped closer, and wrapped his arm around her waist. “You obviously haven’t been downstairs. Let me show you.”

  They started across the deck and I panicked. “Abby, what should I tell Blake? Your boyfriend?” If the Duke was surprised to hear that she had a boyfriend, he didn’t react.

  She looked over her shoulder. “I’ll find him. Later.”

  I watched them walk away, clenching my cup, the plastic crinkling in my hand.

  I didn’t want to stand out there by myself, so I pushed my way back into the house and found the stairs to the lower level. It was as crowded as the first floor. In the media room, people were sitting on one another’s laps, some watching a movie—the new Bond, not even released in theaters yet—others too busy making out. I stood there and watched for a few minutes, then kept moving.

  I walked through the game room, around the pool table, and past a cluster of guys sitting in front of another TV playing Black Ops. One table held bowls of popcorn and pretzels and every kind of candy you could imagine. At the end was a huge bowl of Laffy Taffy. All grape. Was it a coincidence? I didn’t think so.

  “McKay!” I turned and saw Blake moving toward me. “Where’s Abby?”

  “Bathroom?” I said. It was the first place I’d thought of.

  Blake seemed to take me at my word, but kept looking around the room. “Where’s the keg?” asked a guy with him, another hulking football player.

  “Upstairs in the kitchen. Or there’s one outside on the deck.” I didn’t know what would be worse: them finding Abby flirting with the Duke, or waiting while I was forced to entertain them. I decided it was better to save myself.

  “I’ll see if I can find Abby,” I said.

  “Yeah, cool.” The pool game finished, and Blake grabbed the cue from the loser’s hand and waited for the other guy to rack up the balls.

  I made my way back upstairs, texting Abby as I walked. I didn’t see her in the kitchen, so I wove around the crowds in the formal dining area and down a long hall. She wasn’t there, either.

  I peeked in the living room where the DJ was set up. It was packed with people with their hands raised, jumping up and down to the beat. Kelsey was dancing with a group of girls. I watched her, hips swaying, hair flipping back and forth, and in that moment, I decided I didn’t care about Abby. I pushed through the crowd.

  “Hey.”

  She smiled. “You made it.”

  “As you see.”

  “What?”

  I shook my head. The music was so loud. Attempts at conversation were pointless. Kelsey was still dancing—she hadn’t stopped. She nudged me with her hip. I stood across from her, bouncing to the beat, but I didn’t know what to do with my arms. A couple of the girls had theirs in the air, but when I did it, I looked like one of those flopping inflatable things outside car dealerships. I hooked my thumbs into my pockets and tried not to hurt anyone with my elbows. We made it through the next song, but the whole time I was thinking about what Garrett had said. Was she really determined not to date anyone on the team? Or just any of them?

  A slower song started and I stood there for a minute, watching as couples paired up. Kelsey leaned in and whispered something to her friend. I wondered if I should leave. A couple of girls were trying to get by, so I stepped closer to Kelsey to let them through. There were only inches between us, and I could see a thin white scar on her chin, and wondered how she got it. There were so many things about her I didn’t know.

  Her friend said something I couldn’t quite hear. They both looked at me expectantly. Then they burst out laughing. Not exactly the reaction I was going for. As I was moving to escape with what little dignity I had left, Kelsey grabbed my hand and pulled me into the center of the room. Threading her arms around my neck, she leaned in closer and said, “All part of your plan?”

  Her breath was warm against my ear. I shook my head. “What?”

  “You were standing on Sarah’s shoelace. I had no choice but to dance with you. Poor girl would have peed her pants if I hadn’t.”

  She met my eyes and I could tell she was teasing me. I wanted a quick comeback. But standing there with my hands on her hips in the middle of that crowded room, breathing in her apple-scented shampoo, I blanked. “Oh, sorry.”

  She didn’t respond. The couple behind us bumped into Kelsey, so I pulled her closer. My fingers rubbed against the metal studs on her belt. They were cool and slick and I never wanted to let go.

  She cleared her throat.

  “You having fun?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  I listened to the song. It was winding down, and soon she’d pull away and I might not see her for the rest of the night. I didn’t want it to end like that. “You any good at pool?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Not really. But I’ll bet I’m better than you.”

  “Prove it.”

  The song ended. “You’re on.” She led me through the crowd and down to the basement. She knew exactly where she was going, and as I followed, I wondered how much time she’d spent at the Duke’s house. We’d reached the game room, my ears still ringing, when she spun around and asked, “Want a drink?”

  I hesitated. Passing on the beer would only cement my reputation as a total loser. But there was no way I was diving into my pathetic family backstory.

  I didn’t get a chance to answer.

  Something hit me on the shoulder—a crushed red cup. Across the room, Blake was laughing with his steroid-infused buddy. He strutted over to us. “You always sucked at hide-and-seek,” he said. “Show me where you were when Abby left for the bathroom.”

  I stared down at the wet spot on my shirt for a minute. I couldn’t believe this was happening here, in front of Kelsey. I knew Blake wouldn’t leave me alone until he found Abby. “Romeo, here, is looking for my cousin. Give me five minutes?”

  “Okay.”

  I motioned for Blake to follow me. I didn’t know where Abby was, but since I hadn’t seen her upstairs, I decided to look outside. Rather than fight my way through the crowd, I headed toward a door at the back of the basement. It opened outside onto a small concrete patio at the base of a set of narrow stairs. Blake and his buddy followed me.

  When I was a couple steps shy of the top stair, I stopped. Ten feet in front of me, back pushed against a tree,
was Abby. Kissing the Duke.

  “Ow,” Blake complained. “You stepped on my heel.”

  “Not my fault,” his friend said. “You stopped.”

  I turned around, frantically digging in my pockets. “I think I dropped my keys.” I spoke as loudly as I could, hoping Abby would hear me.

  “Just now?” Blake asked.

  “Yeah. Are they down there?”

  “It’s too dark to see anything. Turn your phone on.”

  Blake bent down and checked the stair he was on. After a few seconds, he stood. “They’re not here.”

  I turned back, taking those last few steps as slowly as I could.

  The Duke and Abby were gone.

  We walked across the lawn until I saw them, standing on the deck. Abby was next to a couple of girls. The Duke stood close enough to touch her, but he didn’t.

  “Finally,” Abby said as we approached. “I thought maybe you got lost.”

  “I’ve been texting you,” Blake said, looking around, his eyes lingering on the girls in the hot tub before finally stopping on the Duke.

  “Reception’s a bit spotty up here,” the Duke said, confidently meeting Blake’s gaze. He didn’t try to introduce himself. He didn’t seem to care who Blake was.

  Blake took the cup from Abby’s hand. “I’ll finish this. We wouldn’t want that going to your gut.” He patted her ridiculously flat stomach.

  I waited on the edge of the deck, watching the four of them. We could all feel it, the challenge that hung in the air like the fog that was rolling in off the ocean below.

  My eyes met Abby’s. I wanted to tell her how stupid she was being. That this wasn’t just about her. She let out a big sigh.

  “I’m tired of this party, boys. Let’s go.”

  Blake wrapped his arm around her shoulder, claiming her, as they all walked back into the house. I didn’t follow.

  All of a sudden, my body felt heavy. My head was pounding. I didn’t want to see Kelsey. I didn’t want to see anyone. So I started back across the lawn and around the side of the house. Someone jogged up behind me.