“Missy and Wes seemed pretty cozy last night,” Paul says after a while.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I thought they were acting kind of weird.”
“Maybe a little.”
“Like they were putting on some act, trying to be like some mature adult couple,” I say.
Paul considers this. “Yeah, I guess. They were all smiles, but it did seem a little forced.”
“Definitely.”
“So what are you saying, I still have a chance?” he asks in this cheesy movie voice he likes to do.
“Not in this life, pal,” I say.
“Shoot. Well, what about you? Got your eye on anyone?”
“You know me, Luscious Lizzie, man killer.”
“I’m serious. I know you’re over Hunter, but who is the object of your affection these days?”
“No one, really.” What am I supposed to say? You?
“So you haven’t warmed up to John at all, huh? He still thinks you’re a hot ticket.”
“Then why didn’t he ask me to the semi?”
“Fear of rejection. But if you’re interested, I could let him know.”
“No, thanks.”
“That’s too bad,” he says. “You should be more open-minded.”
You should see what’s right in front of you, I think.
“You’ve never had a boyfriend, have you?” Paul asks.
This is new territory. We never talk about my romantic history or lack thereof. “So?” I say.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit sometimes, Lizzie. There are probably loads of guys who have had crushes on you, but you were too busy being defensive to notice.”
He sounds like my brother. I shake my head.
“I’m serious. You’re smart and cute. Sometimes you’re even fun to be around.”
“Gee, thanks,” I say.
“You deserve to be happy and to be treated nice,” he says, looking away from the road to look at me.
“I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy,” I say.
“Don’t you want to know what it feels like to be kissed?”
That hurts a little. “How do you know I’ve never been kissed?”
“Have you?” he asks.
We both know the answer, though.
We are driving along edge of the park. Paul pulls to the side of the road and turns to look at me. My heart is pounding so fast I think I might explode. I close my eyes as he leans toward me and I feel his lips gently brush against mine. That’s all. It isn’t a long, sloppy, impassioned kiss. Just his lips softly sweeping along mine. He pulls away but I keep my eyes closed for a minute. I can feel tears welling up behind my eyelids and I am afraid to open them.
Paul pulls the car back onto the road and turns around to head toward Jessica’s house. I face the window and open my eyes, brushing back the tears that had leaked out and trying to keep my breathing steady. I don’t understand what it means. One minute he’s asking me about his chances with Missy and then the next he’s kissing me. Is it just pity? He feels bad because I am seventeen and have never been kissed? I can’t believe that he likes me, as much as I want to think he does.
“Here we are,” he says, pulling up in front of a split-level house at the end of a dead-end street. There are already a lot of other cars there. Amazingly my parents gave me permission to stay over at Jessica’s. Apparently in the past few months, I have proven myself trustworthy in their eyes. Plus, they have gotten used to me having a cell phone. They can reach me at any time and vice versa. They insist that if anything happens at the party to make me feel uncomfortable, I should call them and no matter what time they’ll come get me. My mom must have been watching lots of talk shows offering parenting advice to inspire her to make such a statement. I think the biggest reason they are willing to let me stay over is Paul. He has charmed them so thoroughly that they have utter faith that he would never do anything wrong.
As we walk up to the door, Paul leans into me and gives me a playful shove. Whatever the kiss was, that shove is Paul telling me everything is the same as it has ever been.
* * *
Jessica’s parents are of the philosophy that if kids are going to drink, they may as well do it where someone can keep an eye on them. They greet us when we come in and take Paul’s keys. Then they send us down to the basement where the party is.
Maura, Katherine, and Jessica are in one corner with some rather tough-looking guys, one of whom is apparently Maura’s date.
“I can’t believe she’s hanging out with them,” Paul says, steering me toward the far side of the basement. “That guy, Jason, spent last year in juvie.”
He looks like it. He’s a big guy, tall and muscular, and he has on low-slung jeans and a wife-beater. He has a tattoo on one shoulder and a goatee. He looks like he could be twenty-five. Maura is sitting on his lap and he has one hand resting on her upper thigh and one shamelessly on her boob. It’s hard not to stare.
We walk through the basement into the garage where some of Paul’s friends are playing beer pong. They offer us a royal welcome and fill us in on the details of the semi. Paul brings me a soda and we stand around watching the game.
“Maybe we should play,” Paul says, nudging me. “I bet we could take them all.”
I am trying to think of a smart comeback when my phone rings. It’s Missy, and she is in hysterics. I can barely comprehend what she’s saying. Paul takes the phone and tries to calm her down. After a few minutes he hangs up. “Let’s go,” he says.
“What?”
“I told her we’d come get her.”
“But you just gave your keys to Jessica’s parents,” I say, realizing that whatever is going on with Missy, and whatever happened an hour ago between me and Paul, this is Paul’s chance to be the knight in shining armor, riding to Missy’s rescue.
He produces a spare set of keys from his pocket. “Always come prepared,” he says.
He grabs my arm and leads me out the side door of the garage. His car is far enough to the side of the house that Jessica’s parents aren’t likely to notice our coming and going.
“What did she say?” I ask. “I couldn’t understand anything.”
“I couldn’t understand much either, but obviously she’s upset.”
“Well, where is she?”
“She’s at the Silver Lake Lodge.”
We drive in silence. It takes almost an hour to get there. From the parking lot, we can hear the party going on in the rooms at the end of the building. Missy comes out as soon as we drive up. She must have been watching for us in the window.
“Lizzie, why don’t you let Missy sit up front,” Paul says, as he parks the car.
I just look at him in disbelief.
“She’s upset. She shouldn’t sit in the back all alone,” he says.
Paul stays in the car while I get out and meet Missy. I put an arm around her and she starts crying again.
“He just kept calling me the ice princess,” she says between shuddering breaths as we head back into town.
I am having a hard time understanding why exactly she is so upset. Wes and some of his friends arranged a bunch of rooms at this crappy motel so they could all party. Wes had gotten himself and Missy a room of their own, and she wouldn’t have sex with him, so he got mad. Somehow that doesn’t seem like a situation to warrant such hysteria. All that had actually happened was she stood her ground. It isn’t like Wes had assaulted her or something. She hadn’t suffered any physical harm. Sure, it seems that she and Wes are splitsville, but I just don’t feel terribly sympathetic. All I can feel is my own selfish disappointment. Now Missy will have Paul, and I will have nobody.
“I just had to get out of there,” she says, blowing her nose.
From my vantage point in the backseat, I see Paul put a hand on her leg.
“That’s what friends are for,” he says.
Missy twists in her seat and smiles weakly at me. “You guys are the best,” she says turning back around, and I think maybe it
’s my turn to cry. I’m not the best anything and I know it. I am selfish and tired and sad. And Paul isn’t the best either—he used me to get to Missy and he led me on and broke my heart. I wish my parents hadn’t suddenly decided to be cool. I wish I were on my way home instead of on my way back to the party.
It’s after one o’clock by the time we get back to Jessica’s, but no one seems to have noticed we left. No one except Maura. I walk in ahead of Missy and Paul, unable to stomach the pep talk he’s giving her, unable to stand the sight of him with his arm around her. I make a bee-line for the fridge and instead of reaching for soda, I grab a beer. There is an empty spot on the couch and I take it.
A few minutes later, Maura comes over and finds me.
“Lizzie, I have to talk to you,” she says, tugging my arm. I get up and follow her to a quiet corner. “You came here with Paul, right?” she asks.
I nod.
“Well, who the hell did that bitch come with?” she asks.
So Maura had seen Missy and Paul.
I am sleepy and already slightly buzzed from the better part of one beer. I am in no mood to protect Missy or Paul. “Paul rescued her from Wes,” I say, gulping down the last of my beer.
“Well you should hang out with me,” she says. “And we both need another drink.”
I follow Maura to the bar. She pours us each a shot of something or other. I don’t even ask what it is, and I damn near throw up when it hits my gut. Maura has a good laugh over the look on my face, gets us each a beer, and leads me back to her shady new guy friends, who are playing cards. They’re playing “Asshole,” and when Maura and I sit down, we are immediately dealt in. I don’t know any of the rules, and I am quickly becoming too drunk to comprehend them anyway, which means round after round, I am designated the “asshole,” and the “asshole” has to drink a lot. I don’t know how much I’ve had, but all of a sudden I’ve had one gulp too many. I can feel myself turn green, and then I am up, stumbling out the side door of the garage again and puking on the lawn.
When my stomach is empty, I lean back against the wall of the house and sink down onto the walk. I like the cool feeling of the wall against my head, so I just stay there. I don’t even realize I am crying. I wonder if anyone will miss me or if I will die of hypothermia outside Jessica’s garage before anyone finds me. I don’t feel cold, but I know it is cold out. After a while the door opens and a head sticks out. Maura, looking for me. For the first time in my life, I am truly happy to see her. She spots me and comes out to sit down beside me.
“What are you doing out here?” she says, her words slurring.
“Sick,” is all I can manage to say.
“Feel better now?” she asks. “You should eat something.”
I shake my head.
“Are you gonna come back inside?”
“I want to go to sleep,” I say, feeling as if I might burst into tears again.
“Sleep when you’re dead!” Maura says, wobbling to her feet. She reaches a hand down to pull me up. “More rum!”
“No more rum,” I say.
“You’re funny. Sweet little Lizzie.” She throws an arm around my shoulder and steers me back inside. She plunks me down in the chair next to hers at the card table. “No more asshole for Lizzie,” she says.
“Strip poker?” one of the guys asks.
“I need to go find Paul,” I say, standing up.
“No!” Maura says, pouting. “Stay with us.”
I sit back down. Suddenly I am too tired to move anyway. I slump sideways and lean my head on Maura’s shoulder. “That’s better,” she says.
* * *
When I wake up the next morning, I am curled up on the floor shivering with just a little afghan on top of me. When I open my eyes, I am looking through the framework of a pull-out bed. Apparently some people were lucky enough not to sleep on the cold hard floor. When I turn my head I think my brain is going to split open, and as much as I want a drink of water, I don’t even dare try to get up. There is light coming in the basement windows high above my head, but I can tell it’s still early. I want other people to start waking up, although I doubt anyone will any time soon.
I drift in and out of sleep for a while and then I wake to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. Jessica’s mom hollers down the stairs that breakfast is almost ready. I cannot imagine eating. The springs of the pull-out bed creak. I manage to pull myself up to a seated position. Maura lays on the pull-out right beside me. Jason’s arm is draped across her. She smiles groggily at me, but he isn’t stirring yet at all. She shakes off his arm and rolls onto her side.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she says. “How do you feel?”
My mouth feels too disgusting to open to talk. My eyes are waking up, though, and as I look past Maura across the room, I can see Missy, nestled into Paul on the recliner in the far corner. He has one arm around her back with his hand on her upper arm, and the other arm passing in front of her with his hand in her hair. Apparently the ice princess warmed up to Paul pretty fast. Maura turns her head to follow my gaze. Then she rolls over, nudges Jason, and leans down to kiss his neck and ear. It doesn’t take him long to wake up.
We all shuffle upstairs for breakfast. Someone hands me a cup of coffee and I wonder if I can stomach it. That anyone can eat is mind-blowing. I sit on the couch, blowing on the coffee I am afraid to drink, when Missy and Paul come over with full plates of food and sit down beside me.
“Don’t you want breakfast?” Missy asks, not really looking at me.
Paul, however, does look at me, and a smirk spreads across his face. “I’ll bet someone isn’t too hungry this morning.”
“Huh?” Missy says, looking up from her food. “Lizzie!” she exclaims, taking in my haggard appearance.
Somehow in the past twelve hours I have turned into a regular water works. I can feel tears creeping up again.
“Your parents are not going to forgive me,” Paul says.
“Me either,” I mumble, but if he hears me he doesn’t acknowledge it.
“We’re going to have to clean you up before we take you home.”
“I’ll take her home,” Maura says, appearing above me.
“I don’t think—” Paul begins, but Maura cuts him off.
“We live next door to each other. It makes sense,” she says.
“Are you sure?” Paul asks me.
“Of course,” Maura answers for me.
I close my eyes and rest my head back against the couch.
Thankfully when I get home my parents aren’t there. My dad is at work and my mom is at the gym. I take a shower and put my dirty clothes, which smell like a barroom floor, in the wash to erase all evidence. Then I go to sleep until almost dinner time.
After dinner, Paul calls and I let it go to voicEmail, but I know there’s no way to avoid him at school. In my head I keep rehearsing our next conversation, how normal it will be, how I can joke with him about Missy finally coming around, how I will not mention that he kissed me or that I got shit-faced in order to avoid having to watch him and Missy together.
Chapter 14
“Feeling better?” Maura asks when I get in the car to go to school Monday morning.
“Still sleepy,” I say.
“I’m proud of you, Lizzie. You had to break that good-girl act sometime.”
“Sure,” I say.
“Jason is pretty cute, huh?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say. She isn’t usually so chatty in the morning. I wish she’d be her usual quiet self. After sleeping all day yesterday, I didn’t sleep much last night, and when I finally did fall asleep, I had to get up for school an hour later. Perhaps Maura has been up all night, and that is why she’s so awake.
“You want to stop for coffee or something?” she says, glancing at me as I yawn and lean against the window.
I look at the clock. We don’t have time to stop.
“So we’ll be late. We’ll say there was traffic,” Maura says.
“We
’ll get detention.”
“You ever have detention before?”
“Nope.”
“About damn time,” she says. “Besides, Mr. Kramer loves me. Whenever I get detention, he lets me go help the secretaries, which usually means I sit in the office stuffing envelopes and eating candy.”
“Mr. Kramer doesn’t even know me.”
“I’ll hook you up,” she says. We are only a few blocks from school, and she pulls down a side street to a place called the Broadway Diner.
We both order coffee and Maura orders pancakes. “Get something,” she insists. “This place is great.”
I order French toast and try to keep from checking the time too often.
“I just don’t know what to do about Paul,” she says, stirring sugar into her mug. “I was so pissed at him Sunday.”
“But you were with Jason.”
“Yeah, and Paul seemed utterly indifferent to that fact.”
“So you were with Jason to make Paul jealous?”
“And Jason’s hot.”
“And dangerous,” I say.
“Did Paul tell you that?”
I nod.
“So did it bother him that I was with Jason?”
“Yeah. I mean, as soon as he saw you guys, he wanted to steer clear.”
“Hmmm. Well that’s good. I just need to know he’s paying attention,” she says, diving into her food. “I thought Missy was with Wes, anyway.”
I explain what happened.
“Well then she won’t last long with Paul either. If she’s not going to give it up, he’ll get bored and move on.”
I feel slightly reassured to hear Maura’s assessment of Paul’s intentions, even if I’m not sure she’s right. I wish I could ask Maura what she thinks about Paul kissing me, but obviously I can’t. Still, I wonder if the reason he kissed me was because he was giving up hope on Missy and I was just there—a convenient enough way to satisfy his hormonal appetite. That thought just makes me angry.
“Think of those poor suckers in first period right now,” Maura says, as the waitress refills her coffee.
First period. Calculus, one of my worst subjects. I really need to be there every day just to stay afloat, but I don’t care.
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