by Ann Herrick
"Um, Keeley, I'm going to, uh, circulate," I said, hoping he wouldn't think I was completely abandoning him.
"Go ahead," Keeley said. "I'm going to build myself a giant taco. Shout if you need me."
"Okay." I took a deep, shaky breath and smiled as I walked over to Brad.
"Hey, Sivia," Brad said. "Glad you made it."
"Thanks. Me too." I nervously eyed Marcy. "Um, nice house."
"Thank you," she said icily. She gave me a chilly smile. "Sivia. You don't have any beer."
It was then I noticed they all held tall, foamy, expensive-looking glasses of beer. Even Brad. In fact, he raised his and gulped down practically half of it in one swig. "Um, I'm not thirsty," I said. "But thanks."
"Okay." Brad put down his glass and grabbed my hand. "Let's dance. That ought to build up your thirst."
The next thing I knew, I was in Brad's arms. He pulled me close. My face reddened as I felt my, um, curves molding into the contours of his body. I put my head on his shoulder. I felt his warm, beery breath on my cheek. My own breath seemed to catch in my throat. I'd dreamed of being in Brad's arms. My heart did somersaults. This was Brad. Brad!
He hummed softly. He kissed the top of my head. I couldn't believe it. I was in Brad's arms, just where I'd longed to be. For a couple minutes I was in Heaven.
Somehow, though, things didn't go along quite as I'd dreamed they would. Brad didn't say a word. When I glanced up at him, I saw he was busy looking over at Marcy. She glared at us, even though she was dancing with Todd.
Maybe … maybe Brad was bored. After all, I hadn't said a word either. Yeah, maybe I just need to say something and he'd totally concentrate on me.
"Um …." Um? Um what? Think, Sivia, think! "Uh, great game tonight, Brad."
"Huh?" Brad turned his head ever-so-slowly and looked down at me. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks." He looked very pleased with himself. He pulled me really close, grinding my boobage right into his ribs. He let one hand slide down my back and rest perilously close to my butt.
My insides were all melty, but my hands felt cold and clammy.
The music stopped. Brad kept me squished against him as he nuzzled my hair. He glanced over at Marcy. He seemed way more interested in looking at her than paying any actual attention to me.
What happened between the end of the basketball game and now? Had Marcy cast her spell on Brad? Had he been hot for Marcy all along? Had Todd's jealously given Brad and Marcy ideas and brought them together? Was Brad ever really interested in me, or had I just been listening to my own wishes?
All I knew for sure was that I was feeling totally uncomfortable. I scanned the room for Keeley. Maybe if he looked really bored I could use him as an excuse to get out of there. But I saw Keeley talking to a couple of girls on a sofa. They were leaning forward, listening to him with great interest. I didn't recognize the dark-haired girl, but the other girl was Lona Rudolph. She gazed over at Todd. Finally, she got up and walked over to a painting of horses and riders jumping over a hedge. She studied it, but kept shooting looks at Todd.
Marcy and Todd drifted over to me and Brad.
"Hey, Brad," Todd said, "what's it like dancing with the future star of the softball team?"
I wanted to slither under the rug. Judging from the look on Marcy's face, she wasn't too thrilled about me being referred to as a "future star of the softball team" either.
Brad slid around in back of me and wrapped both arms around my waist. "Sivia's a good kid."
A good kid? What did that mean? I mean, I wondered how he would know, anyway, since we'd barely said a word to each other this evening. Certainly it wasn't my dancing that impressed him, although I guess my boobs had literally made an impression on him.
"Are you ready for a beer now, Sivia?" Marcy said as more of a challenge than a question.
"Well ... uh ... not just yet."
"Don't worry," Todd said. "It's good and cold. I mean, I know none of the top babes would ever drink warm beer." He looked straight at Marcy. "They have their reputations to protect. Now scotch is a different story." He put his still-almost-full glass of beer down on a table. Mom's lectures to me about not ruining the furniture must've taken over my brain, because my first thought was that the beer glass would leave a ring on the table. Was I a dork, or what?
Todd reached into a cabinet, pulled out a bottle, and started to pour some of the dark liquid into his glass. "Scotch doesn't have to be cold. But remember, drink it straight. Mixing booze is abnormal."
Yikes! Hard liquor. No wonder Todd ditched the beer. He knew where the "good stuff" was.
"Cut it out, Todd!" Marcy gave Todd a monstrous glare. "My parents will have a fit if they discover anyone touched their—"
"Relax," Todd said. "There's three bottles of this stuff, and this one's already been opened. No one will miss a little scotch."
"Todd." Marcy's voice was cold and brittle.
"Look, why don't you get off my back and go dance with golden boy here. That's what you've been dying to do all night, isn't it? Meanwhile, I'll just keep Sivia and this glass of scotch company."
"Fine with me." Marcy reached out and clutched at Brad's arm. "Let's go."
Brad didn't utter one syllable of protest. In fact, a small, triumphant smile played at the corners of his mouth. The second he let go of me he clasped Marcy's body close to his. She locked her arms around his neck and dropped her chin on his chest.
It sort of creeped me out thinking how Marcy was fine with sneaking behind her parents' backs to party and serve kegs of beer, but she worried that her folks would freak if someone touched a bottle of their scotch. But then, who was I to question anyone's values?
"Oh, excuse me, Sivia," Todd said in an exaggerated tone. "How rude of me. Here." He shoved the glass of scotch at my mouth. "I didn't offer you any."
The bitter liquid splashed over my lips and ran down my chin. I wiped it off with the back of my hand. "No! Uh, n-no thanks." I pushed the glass away. "Really. In fact, I think maybe I ought to be go—"
"How 'bout a beer, then?" Todd dragged me over to the keg and started to fill a glass for me. "The night is young." He laughed as he slopped beer on the floor. "And so are we."
I took the slippery glass, and set it on a Vogue magazine on the coffee table. I had enough to worry about without adding a water ring to the list. "Todd. I don't want anything to drink. I just want to—"
"I know." Todd gripped my shoulder. "You just want a tour of the house with me as your personal guide. Well, hey, I'm nothing if not accommodating. Just ask Marcy." His hand slid down my arm and tightened around my wrist. "Come on."
I stumbled after Todd. I figured, okay, if he showed me the house at least he wouldn't be pouring beers or scotch for me.
"The kitchen!" he exclaimed as he led me through a gleaming room with a cathedral ceiling and arched windows.
We started down a hallway lined with built-in shelves and cabinets, recessed lights shining on sculptures and small paintings. "On your left," Todd said as he sipped some scotch, "is one of the better bathrooms in town."
I caught a glimpse of a skylight, rich patterns of ceramic tile, and an oversized whirlpool tub. I hoped we were heading for a deck or patio. I was ready for some fresh air.
"Ah, here we are." Todd opened a door and led me into a room. "How do you like this?"
I looked around at the lace curtains, cherry wood furnishings and Oriental rug. But what made me want to get out of there fast was the big brass bed piled high with ruffled pillows. When I saw the line-up of pictures of Todd on the dresser, I for sure knew we were in Marcy's bedroom. I started for the door. "I-I don't think we should be here."
"Hey." Todd closed the door and leaned against it, waving off my words. "Don't worry. I've been in here plenty of times."
Ew. I didn't want to even think about that. "Yes. Well." I swallowed a rising lump in my throat. "I still think we should leave—"
"Relax," Todd insisted. "Here. Have a drink." He held the glass of scotch
up to my lips again and splashed some into my mouth.
I coughed and sputtered. The scotch burned as it trickled down my throat. I grabbed the class and plunked it on the dresser. I didn't worry about water rings this time. "I just want to get out—"
"Okay, okay. No more booze." Todd planted himself in front of me as if his feet had taken root in the Oriental rug.
I picked up a silver perfume bottle from the dresser and fingered it, wondering what to do. Maybe I should make a run for the door.
"You know, I think you're prettier than Marcy." Todd pushed a stray tendril of hair away from my cheek. "And nicer too. She's so stuck-up. Thinks she can have any guy she wants just by snapping her fingers."
I started to edge my way over to the door.
Todd put his hand under my chin and turned me toward him. Suddenly his mouth covered mine. I tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held me tight. I should've told him to get lost when I had the chance!
The next thing I knew, he picked me up, carried me over to the bed and set me down. "Todd, I—"
His mouth covered mine, and swallowed my words. His hand came up under my arm. He started fumbling with the buttons on my top. I so wanted to scream, but his lips were pressed down hard over mine. I felt a buzz of panic.
Then two things happened at once. I kneed Todd in the groin, and the door flew open.
"Keeley!" I jumped off the bed and ran over to him.
He looked me over and saw my top before I could rebutton it. He wheeled over to the bed. Pretending to be serious, he asked, "Aw, are you hurt, Todd?"
The way Keeley squeezed Todd's arm, I'm sure Todd was in pain from that, as well as from my knee. Todd rolled around on the bed, his knees drawn up to his chest and his free hand on his, well, where he hurt the most. As he writhed around he let out a low moan.
"Let's get out of here," I said.
"And leave poor Todd in this condition?"
"He'll live. Let's go." I tried to sound all calm, but I just wanted to get out of there.
"You sure?" Keeley raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you haven't even had a taco yet."
"I'll survive," I said. "Now, can we please leave? Or do I have to walk home?"
"We'll go, we'll go." Keeley released Todd's arm. Todd stared blankly at Keeley for a second, then let out a groan.
We left Todd moaning on Marcy's bed. On our way down the hall, we almost ran into Lona Randolph.
"Uh, do you know where a bathroom is?" Lona asked. She looked from me to Keeley to me again. I had a feeling she was wondering where Todd was.
I pointed to a door. "Right there."
"Thanks."
"Lona?" I said.
"Yeah?" Lona raised one eyebrow.
"Todd Spear is …." I didn't want to say recovering from a groin injury. "He's feeling kind of, um …. not well." I hoped that was subtle enough—not that Todd deserved to have his dignity preserved. I was thinking of Lona's feelings more than his. "He, uh, probably needs some water or something." Or pain medication really, but why get specific?
Lona's eyes widened. "Where is he?"
"He's just down the hall. Second door on the left." I didn't think Lona needed to know it was Marcy's bedroom, though she'd probably figure it out.
"We told him to lie down in there," Keeley said carefully. "He could probably use your company, in addition to some … whatever."
"Don't worry," Lona said. "I'll take care of him." Without another word, she rushed down the hall, bypassing the bathroom.
"Nurse Betty to the rescue," Keeley said, as soon as Lona was out of earshot.
"Not that Todd deserves Lona's tender, loving care," I said. "But I wouldn't want him rolling around on Marcy's bed, getting caught in the bedspread and choking."
"Choking? Nice detail," Keeley said. "Now, let's ditch this place."
We got out of the house as quickly as possible. But not before I saw Marcy and Brad on a sofa, so entangled I couldn't sort out whose limbs were whose, even if I'd wanted to.
Keeley opened the van door for me, and I as climbed in he said, "Hey, do you know which car is Todd's?"
"Yeah, that red Audi. Why?"
"Do you mind waiting here just a couple more minutes? It's important."
I glanced toward the front door. No one was looking for us. "Okay. But why?"
"I'm gonna let the air out of his tires."
"You know, I don't think he's really had much to drink."
"Maybe not," Keeley said. "But he went for that Scotch when he got ticked at Marcy and Brad. I doubt if that situation is going to improve, and if he decides to drown his sorrows .…"
"Lona's, uh, tending to him."
"Maybe. Maybe not," Keeley said. "We don't know for sure. Besides, if he gets too pissed at Marcy and drives off in a rage, that's totally not good either."
"True." Maybe Todd deserved to have the air let out of his tires just for being a jerk, whether he drank too much or might completely lose his temper or not. Or maybe Keeley wanted a little revenge on Todd for the way he made cracks about him.
Keeley looked around, went over to Todd's car and leaned down next to the front left tire. It wasn't until he started on the back left tire that I realized exactly what he was doing. He was letting the air out of two tires. As soon as he finished, he hurried back to the van and got in.
"Good thinking," I said. "With two flats to fix, Todd will have plenty of time to sober up or cool down or whatever he needs to do before he can drive."
"You got it."
As we pulled out of the driveway, Keeley grinned and said, "You know, we didn't even thank our hostess for the 'lovely evening.'"
"Somehow I don't think she—or anyone else—will even notice we're gone." I blinked back tears. The vision of Marcy and Brad entwined together like a knot flashed through my mind. What really hurt was to think Brad just used me to make Marcy jealous.
"Hey. I've been teasing you, and you're really upset." Keeley reached over and touched my cheek. "Sorry. Did Todd seriously try to—"
"Oh, I handled Todd." I sniffled. "He may be a jerk, but at least he's up front about it. He doesn't try to pretend he's ... not a jerk."
Keeley didn't ask me to explain. "I don't want to drop you off with you feeling lousy. Want to stop for a pizza or something?"
I thought about Ilana and Gavin at Luigi's, but then shook my head. "No. I really don't want to be with a bunch of people right now."
"Okay. Look. That sign. 'Viewpoint.' There's a turn just ahead where there's a place to stop by the river. How 'bout if I pull over for a while?"
"Well ... okay." I really didn't want to go home and sulk by myself. And Ilana was out with Gavin, so I couldn't call her.
Keeley turned down the narrow road, pulled over, and for a few minutes we sat quietly. I watched the moonlight skitter across the water.
"This is okay, isn't it?" Keeley said. "I mean, I don't want to get you in trouble or anything."
I checked the time. "No, it's still pre-panic hour."
"I guess your father trusts me—even though I do drive a van. Mwa-ha-ha." Keeley flashed his lop-sided grin.
I couldn't help laughing. "As if a guy in a wheelchair couldn't possibly be a sex maniac!" I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Not that you are a ... I mean, I'm sure you'd never—"
"Wait a second. What makes you think I've never Done It?"
"You mean you have?" I guess I shouldn't have been shocked. Just because I didn't have a sex life, didn't mean he didn't.
"I didn't say that."
"Then you haven't?"
"I didn't say that either." Keeley grinned
"Well, c'mon. You either have or you haven't."
"Right. But it's none of your business. At least, not at this point in our relationship."
"Okay. Fine!" Relationship? What relationship? Who said we had a relationship?
"You don't have to shout."
"Sorry," I whispered.
"That's okay," Keeley said softly. "I appreciate the vote o
f confidence."
"Is that what it was?" I laughed softly.
"That's how I'm taking it," Keeley said. "Hey, how 'bout some music?"
"Um …." My eardrums hadn't recovered from his last musical selection.
"No 'Radical Conflict' this time," Keeley assured me. "Just something soft and quiet and appropriate for a scenic overlook."
It wasn't that late, and it was kind of relaxing sitting there looking out at the moonlight sparkling on the water. "Okay."
Next thing, I was hearing an old Billy Joel song called "River of Dreams." I recognized it, because Mom used to play it all the time when I was little. "How did you just happen to have a song with a title that fits in with the scene so well?"
"My Dad is a major Billy Joel fan," Keeley said. "He's always going on about what a powerful melody it has, but I think the lyrics are cool too."
"Yeah …." I said. Crazy, but I wondered if Keeley intended it as some kind of message to me, with all the stuff about fear and doubt and truth and searching and all.
"Speaking of dreams …." Keeley leaned toward me and gently took my face in his hands.
I was surprised by the warm shiver went through me as our lips touched. I slipped my arms around his neck as we kissed softly, slowly. Any fears and doubts I had floated right out of my mind. I savored the velvet warmth of our kiss.
I started to lean closer to Keeley, but in trying to do so I almost impaled myself on the gearshift. "Ouch!"
"Ouch?"
"The gearshift," I said. "My ribs."
"Sorry." Keeley paused, then said, "Well ... there is the back of the van."
Yikes! A knot twisted in my stomach. Me, parked in a ... a makeoutmobile next to the river? Dad's biggest nightmare! What was I thinking? One little kiss and I let myself get carried away? I chewed my lip. "Uh. Well. Um. It is getting late..."
"Oh ...." Keeley's voice rippled with disappointment. And maybe a trace of frustration.
"I mean, I wouldn't want to break curfew …."
"Okay." Keeley sounded disappointed, but then his mouth curved into a smile. "Home it is."
As soon as we got going, he changed the music. As the van filled with some weird, loud sound, I decided it was just as well I'd had the rendezvous with the gearshift. I mean, what was I doing kissing a guy I'd known only a few days? Still .... I closed my eyes. The kiss had been nice ... and sweet ... and definitely memorable.