Best Friends Never

by Isabelle Drake

  “No, even he isn’t that bad.”

  “Did you say anything to your mom?”

  “Nah. She’s so happy he’s back, she’d never listen.” Trying to get her mom to understand how much she hated Dale was impossible, but she intended to keep on doing it. “Right now I just want to forget about him and his disgusting crap.”

  Jazz pulled into the Mickey D’s parking lot. The place was circled by minivans and SUVs and dotted with people coming and going. “I’m all for forgetting about that. Hurry up and go change.”

  Lexi grabbed her stuff from the back seat then slid out. Three steps later, unable to control herself, she texted Monica, but only a simple question—

  You going to be at Zoë’s?

  She’d better be. Or Lexi was going to show up on her doorstep.

  * * * *

  As they got closer to Zoë’s house, the sides of the street were more and more crowded with cars and groups of kids. Some kids were still wearing their clothes from the funeral, but most, like Lexi and Jazz, had changed into something subdued but decent. Music from car radios rolled through the night air, Katy Perry, Pitbull and that goofy Sweet Caroline song by Neil Diamond, all blended together.

  Jazz slowed and pointed to the girls with the Neil Diamond coming from a gray Volvo. The three of them leaned against the back of the car, passing a water bottle around and singing at the top of their lungs. “It doesn’t sound good,” she said. “And in about thirty minutes, it isn’t going to look good either.”

  “No doubt.” One of the girls was already having trouble standing. Another one was scooping up bunches of leaves and tossing them on herself, laughing as she sang. Lexi turned away. Thank God those days were over for her.

  Jazz cruised down a bit farther. She found a spot and backed in. “Hey, all right with you if I go find Alan?”

  “You guys are still okay, right?”

  “Yeah. Ever since they found Jon’s bike he’s been crazy, but he’s not taking it out on me anymore.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” Lexi followed her friend up the glossy stone walkway to the ridiculously long front porch lined with pots so giant each one held nearly a whole garden of flowers. Swinging around one of the fat white pillars, she said, “I’m trying to run into Ash anyway.”

  And find Monica.

  Jazz lifted her perfectly arched brows. “Still trying to get Ash to sign?”

  Lexi spun around the pillar again, circling in time to the music blaring from inside the house. “It started out that way, but I’m thinking we’ve got more going on now.”

  “Yeah? He seems…” Jazz stalled, obviously searching for the right word.

  “Different,” Lexi finished easily. “Not like all the other guys.”

  “I guess that’s what I was thinking,” Jazz replied, putting her hand on the huge lion head door knocker, banging hard against the door.

  “Nobody is going to hear that.” Lexi reached past her, opened the door with a silly flourish, and stepped onto the sleek parquet floor. “Tell Alan I said hey,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Sure thing,” Jazz said, heading to the right.

  Lexi turned left, passed through a hall and headed to the kitchen. Having a drink of something in her hands was a trick she’d learned to keep people from shoving beers on her. A trick she’d learned months too late, but she couldn’t go back in time and change what she’d done.

  If only.

  Shortie and Spaz, the only two people in the room, leaned over the wide, center-room island, a giant collection of gleaming copper pots hanging over their heads.

  “Hey, Lexi,” they said in unison, their heads bobbing in sync. The music from the other end of the house was so loud they had to raise their voices.

  “Hey,” she called back as she pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. She took a sip then scooted over to where they sat bouncing quarters into their half-full glasses of orange pop. “I didn’t know people still played quarters.”

  “It’s retro,” said Spaz, stretching the words out slowly.

  “Um, okay,” she replied, smiling at his silliness. “But aren’t you supposed to do that with beer?”

  “Not me and my boy, we don’t mess with that.” Spaz did some kind of thing with his hand, like he was having a seizure or something. “We athletes, guurrl.”

  Lexi laughed.

  “Besides,” Shortie added, rolling a coin off his nose, “my dad would kill me, take me off the team.”

  They actually took baseball seriously?

  She eyed them with new respect, until Spaz started giggling at Shortie’s disgusting belch.

  “Hey, Lexi, Monica’s looking for you, by the way,” Spaz said, once he got control of himself.

  “She’s back in the media room,” Shorty added, tapping a quarter on the table. His gaze locked on his opponent, he added, “Good luck finding her, though. Everybody in Cherry Grove is crammed into there.”

  “Hey,” Shortie complained, lifting his glass. “Stop that tapping, you loser, you’re driving me to drink!” He took a huge gulp and burped again.

  Spaz whipped a quarter at him.

  “You two have fun with that.” Lexi went down the hall, crossing through the dimly lit living room. Stray couples huddled in dark corners, some making out, others just getting ready to. She tried to make sure Ash wasn’t among them, but it was impossible without being totally rude, so she gave up and kept walking.

  Probably better to find Monica first. Deal with her, then spend the rest of her night with Ash.

  Spaz and Shortie were right. The back room was jammed. It was so packed she had to edge her way in, pressing against guys she wouldn’t let near her if they paid her and pushing aside the freshmen girls trying to get their attention. Like all the houses in this section of town, the house was huge and designed for entertaining. Heavy bass shook the floor and an immense flat screen filled the back wall. Frozen was playing, with the sound off. Dance music beat from ceiling-mounted speakers, bodies bounced, rave lighting flickered a spectrum of neon, and a couple people had glow sticks. As she wove her way through the mass of bodies, a girl sitting on some guy’s shoulders, her arms waving like snakes, yelled at Lexi. She waved back, still searching, but no Monica.

  Zoë rushed over, her round body stuffed into a lumpy green cable sweater and some kind of not-quite-right tan dress pants. “Come get something to eat,” she yelled over the thumping, pulling Lexi to the lacquered bar that ran the length of the side wall. It was overloaded with dishes of food, trays of cheese, bags of chips and half-empty beer cups. So much for the caterer.

  At Zoë’s insistence, Lexi climbed onto one of the tall barstools and checked out the huge blue fish mounted above shelves that were completely covered with liquor bottles. Giant lures, extra thick poles and other oversized fishing stuff was everywhere. There was even a huge net hanging from the ceiling.

  The song switched to a slow one by Lily Allen and sections of the mob broke apart, others clung together, swaying and singing along. Zoë reached between the bodies and pulled out a guy wearing a turtleneck and dark jeans.

  “Hey, Lexi.” His deep voice broke through the music.

  Lexi reeled, reaching for the edge of the bar to steady herself, clutching it with shaking fingers. Her hearted stalled then thumped. “Hey.” She faked a relaxed smile and pretended to be okay. But the fact was, those rowdy, destructive summer months with Monica were colliding with the present.

  Zoë beamed. “Oh, you two already know each other! Perfect!”

  “You look awesome. I like that skirt,” he said, fingering the hem with quick fingers, touching her like it was no big thing.

  Of course he had touched her that way before, so it wasn’t. To him, anyway.

  “Hey there.” Lexi’s voice got lost in the noise, but her eyes couldn’t stop staring at ‘Z’. Smooth skin, long-lashed, bright green eyes and gorgeous chiseled features. A regular hottie in all the ways that mattered. Guess that was why she and
Monica had kept going back to that convenience store. That, and that he’d sold them whatever they’d wanted to buy. And gone along with whatever they’d wanted to do.

  Obviously unaware of Lexi’s anguish, Zoë’s round face lit up with satisfaction. “So, you two are all set,” she said, then disappeared among the bodies.

  “Dance with me.” Zeke snaked his long arm around Lexi’s waist and leaned in, his mouth so close to her neck she could feel his lips move across her skin. “It’ll give you something to do until you get that look off your face.” He hauled her into the sweaty, vibrating mob.

  Zeke tugged her closer, pulling her snugly to his muscular chest then dropping his hand to the top of her butt. At least he wasn’t squeezing her ass right there in front of everyone. Lexi glanced around, looking for Ash. Praying he wasn’t watching.

  Where is that damn Monica?

  “Aren’t you going to try to get me to sign for that auction thing?” he asked, rubbing against her.

  Lexi tried to push him away, but his grip was firm. Shoving him away would cause a scene and that definitely wasn’t what she wanted. “I wasn’t expecting to see you,” she said, loudly enough for him to hear. “Pretty much ever again.”

  He laughed into her ear. His warm breath made a shiver scurry down her spine. “Neither was Monica. You should have seen the look on her face when that Zoë girl introduced us.”

  “Monica? Why would she care? She doesn’t care about anything.”

  Zeke loosened his grip enough to look down at her, his green eyes flashing. “You don’t know?” He touched her face and kept his mouth near when he said, “I thought you two shared everything.”

  “Know what?” Lexi bumped into some girl then stumbled. Zeke swept her away from the girl and steadied her. “And we aren’t friends anymore.”

  His crooked smile inches from her mouth, he said, “Then you really want to know what I know.” Zeke nuzzled her neck, running his lips up and down her throat then whispering, “Meet me in the hot tub. If things go right, I’ll tell you.”

  Not giving her a chance to say no, he pressed his finger to her lips. “I’ll shut the door to the porch. Knock four times, so I’ll know it’s you.” With that, he let go and shouldered through the throng.

  The music hyped and kids howled, guys laughing as they raised their fists. Guys and girls started hopping, jumping to the wild, steady pounding. Lexi stepped back, toward the doorway then through the hall, away from the heat and noise. Even more kids had arrived, making it difficult to walk quickly. She moved as fast as she could, glancing side to side as she headed back the way she’d come.

  No Ash. But Monica was headed straight for her, face tight.

  “You need to stay away from Ash,” she said, taking hold of Lexi’s arms and forcing her into a small study off the living room.

  “What?” Lexi grabbed at Monica’s fingers as the girl dragged her deeper into the room.

  “What the hell is your problem?” she asked, letting go of Lexi to move back to close the French door. “Just listen to me, okay?” she said.

  Lexi scoffed. “Why should I listen to anything you say?”

  “I’ve been totally honest with you. I told you about Jon, right?” She checked over her shoulder, looking through the glass door, then said, “It’s not like I’m pretending nothing happened.”

  The memory of throwing Jon’s bike in the dumpster was followed by images of TV crews interviewing kids, and all those thoughts of ‘what if’ filled Lexi’s mind. And what had Zeke been getting at? He knew something about Monica that she didn’t? “Yeah, that’s fine and all, but—” She rushed forward then came at the other girl more slowly. “I have some questions I want answered about—”

  “I got another text from Jon last night. He’s fine. So keep your mouth shut.” When Lexi didn’t back off, Monica continued, “Look, even if he was gone—which he isn’t—we don’t really know anything.”

  This time Lexi grabbed Monica’s arm and pulled her close. She looked up and saw each of the girl’s delicate lashes and the sparkle of her gold eyeliner. So pretty. So bad. “We woke up with his bike on the hood of your car.”

  “But he wasn’t with it.”

  Lexi squeezed her fingers, feeling Monica’s soft flesh, smelling the Chanel No. 5 she always wore. “What if—?”

  “Shut up,” Monica said, tugging her arm away with a quick jerk. “There is no what if so stop thinking about it. And get it through your head that nobody cares that we spent the whole summer getting wasted.”

  She was right about that, but not about other things they’d done. “What we did was a felony, Monica. I looked it up. If we get caught—”

  For the first time ever, Monica’s face went blank, the ever-present sweet pinkness in her cheeks gone. “I know that. I looked it up too. But stop stressing because it’s getting taken care of. I’m taking care of it.” The nastiness came back, and a ruddy red flush brightened her face. “Besides, we’d just get lawyers if we had to.”

  Maybe that was true for Monica—her parents could afford the best and she didn’t need scholarships and financial aid to get the hell out of Cherry Grove. But Lexi lived in a different world, one where girls who did nasty tricks had to pay for what they’d done. If the cops found out what had gone on at the Westerville party store Lexi was going to be stuck in Cherry Grove, living at home and going to Westerville Community College. If she didn’t end up in jail.

  “And listen to me about Ash. Stay away from him.”

  “Whatever, Monica. I’m so going to listen to you.” Lexi started to back away, but stopped. “By the way, what’s up with Zeke? What does he know about you?”

  “Stay away from him, too.”

  “Yeah, right. I’ll totally do that.” Lexi pushed past Monica to get out of the room. She opened the door and stepped around a couple of kids dancing in the hall.

  Zoë, always the perfect hostess, kept extra bathing suits in the guest bathroom by the kitchen, so Lexi looped through the living room, which was starting to look like a casting call for a porn video, then went in the opposite direction of the media room.

  Nothing about the Weinbergs’ house was small, so the bathroom was more of a sitting room with a bathroom attached. Everything in there was either a cheery blue or white, including the cozy plaid couch. If things were different, she might have taken a minute to appreciate the cute flower-shaped soaps and fine blue linen towels embroidered with delicate white flowers.

  Zeke wasn’t going to get what he wanted from Lexi, but from what she knew about him, he’d take his disappointment in stride. He’d certainly been disappointed by her in the past. So one more time wasn’t going to matter. Besides, with his gorgeous body and man-beautiful face, he wouldn’t have to look long until he found a girl willing to do what she wasn’t.

  Lexi dug through the basket. No surprise, there were suits of all sizes and colors. She slipped into a black Calvin Klein one-piece, tucked her thong into her shoes, which she left behind the couch, then put her clothes back on over her suit. No way was she walking past all those horny guys wearing only a swimsuit. When she went by the kitchen, Spaz and Shortie were still posted up at the table, playing quarters.

  “Don’t you guys get it?” Pointing to the hall, she added, “The actual party is down there.”

  “Yeah, we thought about going down there and eating all Zoë’s food, but then we wouldn’t get to talk to all the hot babes coming out of the bathroom.” Shortie giggled, all high-pitched and snorting.

  Spaz fell apart, laughing, spilling the entire contents of the cup in his hand. It swirled across the island top then dripped orange fizz onto the tile floor. Shorty reached over to grab a stack of paper napkins. He tossed some across the mess then threw some at Spaz. “On your knees, loser, get to work.”

  Lexi stepped over the bright stream of pop streaming across the floor, grabbed two cans of Coke from the fridge, then went to get the dirt on Monica from Zeke.

  The hot tub was in a wall
ed garden room on the Weinbergs’ wraparound deck, hidden from view by a screen of huge, wide-leafed tropical plants. Thank God most of the kids didn’t even know it was there, so nobody was around to see her meeting up with Zeke. The volume of the music and the heat from the crowd had both increased, making the hall even harder to get through.

  She knocked four times. Nothing.

  She rapped on the door again, waited, listened, but still nothing. Jerk. She didn’t have time for games.

  She curled her fingers around the brass door handle. It opened.

  Expecting to find Zeke with his back against the tiles and a cocky grin on his perfect mouth, she straightened and eased the door all the way open. Zeke, still dressed and still dry, was flattened against the wall, his face a mask of white shock.

  “I found, he—I—” he said, pointing at the hot tub, where Peter Archer’s limp body floated, half in, half out of the hissing bubbles. His mouth was wide open and filled with water.

  Liquid and heavy, Lexi stumbled back, the cans smacking onto the floor, rolling over the tile. One popped open, hissed brown fizz, spitting Coke over the pristine white tile floor. She backed out of the room. Waves of steam followed her out to the hall, moisture skimming over her face. She limped on wobbly legs, shoving at people as she went.

  She got to the end of the hall and stopped. Maybe he wasn’t actually dead.

  Lexi braced herself as she lurched back to the deck. She slipped back through the door and looked at Zeke. “Pull him out.”

  Zeke stared back at her, his face a blank slate.

  “Pull him out,” she said again, this time with more grit.

  He moved forward, knelt at the edge of the steaming hot tub and looked up at her. She nodded. He reached in and grabbed Peter, turned him over. Peter’s body flipped, water splashing onto the floor as Zeke struggled to pull him out. After three tugs he moaned, let go, rolled back and threw up beside a potted tree.

  Lexi’s arms and legs sagged, soft and unwilling, as she dropped against the wall, collapsing into a heap. The bitter scent of Zeke’s vomit filled the air, making her own stomach heave. She crawled out of the room, into the hall, and sat. When she looked up, he was there.