Making Out

by Megan Stine

  Her legs were still trembling and shaky, partly from the adrenaline rush and partly because she was dizzy and still more or less trashed. She took Bradley’s arm for support, and they silently marched out of the suite.

  Her mind was fuzzy on the way to the elevator. What had just happened? How did it get so out of control? Were they really going to . . . to . . . attack her? Or were they just playing a sick, ugly game to scare her shitless—which, by the way, had worked.

  Bradley pushed the down button. “You want to go hang in the lobby?”

  Lisa Marie shook her head. Not the lobby. It was so public, and she was on the verge of tears. She definitely didn’t want to be seen there looking wasted and falling apart on Bradley’s shoulder.

  “Just take me home,” she said in a weak voice.

  “I can’t,” Bradley said. “I didn’t drive. I came with some other guys.”

  Shit. Now what? She tried to think, but her head was still spinning. She just didn’t want to be seen looking like this. Like she imagined she looked.

  “Can we just go somewhere private?” she asked. Then maybe she could call Heather or something, and figure out how to get home.

  “Yeah.”

  When the doors opened on the lobby, a bunch of St. Claire’s kids pushed into the elevator, staring as Lisa Marie got out.

  I must look a wreck, she thought, quickly turning away from them toward a deserted hallway that led to some empty, unoccupied ballrooms. All she wanted right now was to hide somewhere, cover her face, and cry. Or sleep.

  But definitely hide.

  “Let’s go in here,” she said, leaning against the ballroom door and pushing it open with her backside.

  It was a ballroom as big as the one the prom had been held in, but it felt totally different. No decorations, no mood lighting, no dance floor or disco ball. Just a few stacks of metal hotel banquet chairs off in one corner, and a baby grand piano in the other, covered with a canvas tarp. A few dim lights on the perimeter walls gave the room an eerie, abandoned feel.

  At least it was quiet. And private. No one was going to come barging in on them here.

  Bradley hadn’t said much since they left the room, and Lisa Marie was glad. She didn’t know what to say. She was too embarrassed about everything that had happened, and furious at the same time. Plus she felt too shaky to make small talk.

  “You want to sit down?” he said, nodding toward the stacks of chairs.

  Lisa Marie nodded.

  Bradley hoisted two chairs off the stacks and set them side by side, in the darkest corner.

  That was nice, Lisa Marie thought. He was really taking care of her. The dark felt soothing, protective. She dropped her bag on the floor, sat down on one of the chairs, and put her face in her hands.

  “Hey,” Bradley said, sitting beside her and putting a gentle arm around her shoulder. “Don’t cry. Those guys are jerks.”

  “I’m not crying,” she said, looking up. “I’m just . . . wrecked.”

  He pulled her closer.

  “It’s okay,” he said, leaning in to give her a kiss.

  Lisa Marie pulled back. “Hey.” He was being sweet, but she was definitely not in the mood.

  “What?” Bradley snapped. His arm was still around her, and she felt his hand tighten.

  “Sorry . . . I just . . . I don’t feel like . . .”

  “Christ!” Bradley said. “You’re the one who wanted to go somewhere private!”

  Oh God, Lisa Marie thought. Had he misunderstood? Again? Instantly, she felt guilty. This had to be her fault, if guys kept getting the wrong idea. Didn’t it?

  She tried to clear it up quickly. “Sorry,” she repeated. “I just wanted to come in here to get away from the crowds. I didn’t mean . . .”

  “I thought you’d be grateful,” Bradley said angrily.

  She stared at him, outraged. Was he kidding? He thought she owed him?

  “Ramone was right,” Bradley said. “You’re a cock tease.”

  He grabbed her with both hands and leaned close, pressing his tongue into her mouth.

  Stop it! Lisa Marie wanted to shout, trying to pull away from him.

  But he was strong. And forceful. He groped her chest, then threw one leg over top of hers, making it very clear he didn’t intend to stop there.

  Chapter 28

  Marianna dove for her evening bag, which was buried under a pile of shoes and various discarded items of Luke’s clothing on the floor of the limo.

  Wow, she thought. She hadn’t even noticed that Luke took off his shirt.

  The sound of her cell phone was faint, like it was some distant voice she’d forgotten all about. Where was the damned bag? Somehow, it had slipped under the front seat, under Luke’s tux jacket. When she finally retrieved it and checked caller ID, she was astonished to see it wasn’t her dad.

  “That’s weird. It’s Todd.” She gave Luke a puzzled glance as she flipped the phone open to answer. “Todd? What’s up?”

  “Hey, Marianna.” His voice sounded nervous, tense. “Is Lisa Marie with you?”

  Marianna rolled her eyes. It wasn’t like Todd to turn into Stalker Boy, but emotions tended to run high on prom night. Maybe he’d been drinking too much . . .

  “Listen, Todd, you’ve got to chill about her. You can’t do this. Back off and let her have a life. You dumped her, remember?”

  She was trying to be patient and understanding with the guy, but God—he had just interrupted the most important event of her life.

  “No, no, that’s not it,” Todd struggled to explain. “I’m worried about her. I think she might be in trouble.”

  Marianna pursed her lips and took a minute to evaluate. Was it a ploy? He sounded pretty upset.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “She was up in the suite with a bunch of guys,” Todd said carefully, logically, like he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions but he couldn’t ignore a preponderance of the evidence. “I think she was one of the last girls there. Anyway, I just heard some guys in the elevator saying that John and Ramone were going to have a little fun with her.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah. It sounded ugly. They were saying John wanted to get back at her for playing them or something.”

  Marianna started putting on her shoes as fast as she could.

  “Get dressed,” she whispered to Luke, covering the phone. Then back into the phone she said, “Did you go up to the suite?”

  “I can’t remember what room it was.” Todd sounded embarrassed. “That’s why I called.”

  “Luke, what room was the party in?” Marianna asked.

  “Huh?”

  Now that her eyes were open and she was sitting up and adrenaline was racing through her body, Marianna noticed that Luke looked fairly blotto. His eyelids drooped, and he sort of swayed as he tried to put on his shirt.

  “Lisa Marie’s in trouble,” Marianna said. “What room was the party in?”

  “Um . . . 1567? Something like that.”

  That sounded right. Something like that. “Try 1567,” she told Todd. “Or 1675. Hurry! We’ll meet you up there.”

  Her mind was a blur, trying to function in the harsh present instead of the intimate haze she and Luke had just been lost in.

  She closed her phone, noticing as she did that she had five “missed calls.” So her dad had been calling after all. Probably while she was at the party, which was such crazy chaos. No wonder she didn’t hear the phone ring.

  He probably did have the police looking for her right now.

  Luke was slow putting on and tying his shoes, trying to find the studs for his shirt, tucking the shirttails into his pants. He didn’t want to go up to the hotel lobby in his bare chest, and she couldn’t blame him for that, but this was an emergency.

  God knows what they were doing to Lisa Marie . . .

  Marianna needed help zipping up the back of her dress. It was awkward, sitting sideways and half kneeling on the floor of the car so Luke co
uld do it. She wished he’d hurry up. She wished he weren’t so clumsy with it. She almost wished her mother was there to zip it instead.

  Finally they tumbled out of the Lincoln Bedroom and stumbled through the parking garage to the elevator.

  Luke pushed the button over and over. The elevator didn’t come.

  “Shit! Should we take the stairs?” She looked around for them, trying to figure out how many levels down they were from the lobby.

  “What did Todd say?” Luke asked, bleary-eyed.

  “He said Lisa Marie was in trouble!” Marianna snapped, taking her anxiety out on him.

  Luke was so sweet, he didn’t even show an ounce of anger. He just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward the stairs. “Come on,” he said. “This is probably faster.”

  Just then, the elevator doors opened. They raced back and dashed in just before the doors closed again.

  In the elevator, Marianna took out her cell phone to call Heather. Not that Heather could help—she was God knows where, at a party halfway across town. But when the chips were down, Heather had always been their rock. She was the one Marianna and Lisa Marie could count on.

  Her hands shook as she dialed the number. “Come on, Heather. Pick up.”

  What could she be doing that was so important she wouldn’t answer her phone?

  It rang five times, then the voice mail clicked in.

  “Heather, it’s me. When you get this, call me,” Marianna said, trying to keep her voice calm. “Lisa Marie’s in a bad situation. We’re still at the hotel, and Luke’s here, and I’m sure everything’s going to be all right and everything . . . but just in case, could you get your butt back here? Now?”

  Chapter 29

  “Did you go up to the suite? Is she okay?” Marianna demanded when she and Luke found Todd standing in the lobby.

  “You gave me the wrong room number,” Todd sounded frustrated and angry. “I woke some woman up, and she wasn’t too happy about it.”

  “Oh, God. What room was it?” Marianna turned to Luke, pleading for him to remember. If something happened to Lisa Marie, it would be her fault for getting it wrong . . .

  Her head hurt, and she knew she wasn’t thinking too clearly. But she wasn’t exactly drunk anymore either. There was something about losing your virginity—it sobered a girl up real quick.

  “I’m not sure,” Luke admitted, still sounding fuzzy. “Maybe 1567?”

  “That’s the room I already tried!” Todd almost shouted.

  “Let’s just find her.” Marianna headed for the bank of elevators, hurried into one, and pushed the button for the seventeenth floor. A crowd of drunken conventioneers got into the elevator with them.

  “I think it was 1756,” Marianna said to Luke. “That sounds right, doesn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  The elevator was so slow. It stopped on five, eight, and nine, for people to get off. Then it stopped on twelve because some jerk had pressed the up button when he wanted to go down.

  Finally they reached the seventeenth floor and dashed into the hall. Luke came to a halt and stared at the wall, trying to decode the signs.

  Rooms 1712 through 1747 were to the right. Rooms 1748 through 1765 were to the left. Marianna felt dyslexic, trying to figure out which way to go.

  “This way,” Todd said, Mr. Level-Headed-in-a-Crisis. He hurried down the corridor to the right.

  We’re runners, Marianna thought. What the hell are we waiting for?

  She took off her shoes and threw them aside as she dashed down the long hall, bumping into Todd on the way. Luke was right behind her. As usual.

  When she found the room, she started ringing the door-bell, over and over.

  “Come on!” She was trying not to shout because she didn’t want to wake people who were sleeping. But could someone please answer the frigging door?

  Oops. So much for not waking anyone up.

  A middle-aged man in navy pajamas and half-shut eyes opened the door a crack. “What the hell do you want?” he asked.

  Marianna checked the door number again: 1756. That was the right number, wasn’t it?

  Maybe not.

  “Sorry. I guess we have the wrong room,” she apologized, then turned and hurried back to the elevator, picking up her shoes on the way.

  “Wait!” Luke called, catching up. Suddenly he seemed sober. “I think I remember. It was on the sixteenth floor.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. But I think so.”

  They pushed into the elevator, squeezing in with a family of four who were checking in at this ridiculous hour. They had four pieces of luggage, and the kids looked sleepy.

  Todd stared at the buttons. “Yeah, I think Luke’s right. The party was on sixteen. I’m pretty sure because someone pushed the button when we were coming up to the party, and it was in the left-hand row . . .”

  No one cares what row it was, Marianna thought. Just please, be right.

  Todd pushed sixteen, but the elevator lurched upward.

  Oh, God, this car was going the wrong way. Of course. These people were checking in. They obviously weren’t heading downstairs with all that luggage. Shit. They’d gotten into the wrong elevator.

  By the time they got to sixteen, Marianna was beginning to panic. What if they didn’t find her in time? What if it was already too late? What if . . .

  John and Ramone were animals. Everyone knew they couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants.

  Everyone except Lisa Marie.

  They dashed out of the elevator, and Luke instinctively turned to the right, toward the room they’d been in earlier that night.

  Yeah, this seemed right, Marianna thought. She remembered that flower painting on the wall, near the decorative hall table. It reminded her of a painting her aunt had in her bathroom.

  “I think it’s 1657,” Luke said.

  She and Luke hurried ahead and rang the bell. No answer. She pounded on the door and pushed the bell four or five more times.

  Nothing. It was silent in there.

  Across the hall, they could hear someone’s television playing in another room.

  “Do you really think this is the right room?” Marianna asked Luke.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

  “Then why is it so quiet in there?”

  Luke, Todd, and Marianna all stared at each other for a moment. Todd looked really upset, but he was trying to hold it together.

  “Maybe it’s a good sign.” Luke tried to be positive. “I mean, maybe they’re gone. She can’t be in much trouble if she’s not in there.”

  But what if she’s in there, and she can’t call out for help? Marianna thought.

  “I’ll bet they went to another party,” Todd started to say.

  Just then, the door opened.

  Marco stood there glaring at them in his boxers. “What?”

  Marianna’s throat tightened. Boxers? Oh, man.

  “Where’s Lisa Marie?” she demanded.

  Luke didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed his way into the room, and Marianna followed him. “Where is she?”

  “Jesus! Get the hell out of here!” Marco shouted. “She’s not here. She left.”

  No way was Marianna taking his word for it. Neither was Todd. They quickly searched the place, which didn’t exactly take long.

  The suite was empty, except for Marco, who had apparently been lying on the bed watching pay-per-view, which was still playing silently on the TV.

  “So what happened?” Marianna demanded. “Where are John and Ramone? What did you guys do to Lisa Marie?”

  “I told you,” Marco said angrily. “She left about fifteen minutes ago. With Bradley.”

  “Just Bradley?” Marianna was skeptical.

  Marco nodded. “John and Ramone split to some other party, but I’m too beat.”

  Marianna eyed him coldly, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth. He didn’t seem to be lying. And anyway, Li
sa Marie was obviously not there now.

  “Okay. Sorry, man,” Luke said. “We just heard she might be in trouble. We’ll get out of your way.”

  What a mess, Marianna thought as they left the room. Trash everywhere. It didn’t look like anyone could possibly have been having fun in there.

  When they were back in the hall, she turned to Luke. “So do you think we should keep looking for her?”

  “Nah,” Luke said. “She might be having fun. I mean, do you think she’d want us barging in on her and Bradley? You know what I mean?”

  “I guess not,” Marianna agreed.

  Todd shook his head. “I’m going to keep looking till I find her,” he said. “Just in case.”

  Marianna followed Todd toward the elevator, not sure what to think about that. Was he really just trying to protect Lisa Marie? Or was he trying to spoil her night? It was hard to know. Maybe he was turning into Stalker Boy after all . . .

  Their eyes met in the elevator, and he gave her one of those classic Todd looks that said, Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you the truth.

  Okay. She didn’t have to ask. She knew him. He was one of the good guys.

  “Let’s go with him,” she told Luke as they reached the lobby and the elevator opened.

  A pack of St. Claire’s prom-nighters were trying to get on the elevator just as Marianna, Luke, and Todd got off. Two of them were girls Marianna had known since kindergarten, when they’d all had a crush on Michael Zemiska, and had orchestrated a wedding in the dress-up corner, taking turns being his bride. Michael had refused to play, but that hadn’t been too much of a problem. A large Barney doll had stood in for the groom.

  Both of the girls were named Amanda. Neither of them could stand Marianna anymore, and she couldn’t stand them. But who cared?

  “Have you seen Lisa Marie?” she asked them.

  Amanda J. shook her head.

  Amanda B. shrugged. “I saw her with Bradley a few minutes ago. They were headed down that hallway.” She pointed as if she couldn’t care less.

  Todd hurried forward, waiting for no one. Marianna and Luke had to move it to keep up with him. The hallway led to a bunch of empty ballrooms and meeting rooms, and not much else. What were the chances Lisa Marie and Bradley were down here?