The Way to Game the Walk of Shame

by Jenn P. Nguyen

  “What’s a lightweight?”

  “Someone who can’t handle her drink.” Like you, I added silently.

  Her face beamed, and she leaned in toward me, patting my arm. “Then that’s not me. I had two! And I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Oh yeah?” I held up three fingers. “How many is this?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Three. If you want to see if I’m drunk, you’ve got to use a better method than that. I’ve been counting since I was fourteen months old.” She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a pen. Flicking off the top of the pen, she started writing on her own arm. “Look, I can still write perfectly. Drunk people can’t write, can they?”

  I took her arm and examined it. She did write her name really neat. With lots of swirls. Taylor Simmons. Since her handwriting was so perfect, it almost looked like a tattoo. I unconsciously caressed my thumb along the inside of her wrist. It was soft and warm. “Anybody can write their own name.”

  “Fine, then I’ll write yours.”

  “Don’t you need to know my name first?”

  She grabbed my arm and rubbed her palm against the surface of my skin. Liking the way she was touching me, I took another step toward her. “Oh, everyone knows who you are, Evan.”

  Feeling a little flattered, I watched as she drew out my name. With her tongue sticking out a little bit, she concentrated on each letter. Finally curling the y like a lightning bolt, she tossed the pen over her head. It hit some dude’s shoulder. “Done.” Her hand slid down to grasp my hand.

  “Nice. Now that I know you’re not drunk, I think I should get you a drink.” Still holding her hand, I wrapped my other arm around her waist and guided her through the crowd toward the beer keg and bottles of liquor on the kitchen counter. A giant blue cooler full of Cokes and other soda was on the ground.

  Taylor followed me with a little skip in her step. “How do I know you’re not drunk?”

  “Oh, believe me, I can drink better than anyone here.”

  Looking very interested, her dark eyes flashed dangerously. She leaned against the counter and pointed a finger at me. “Oh yeah? That sounds like a pretty big dare. Why don’t we test that out? For every shot that I drink, then you have to drink three.”

  Really? Was she really trying to challenge me? I didn’t regret coming over to Taylor at all. The party had been getting a little boring, but this conversation with her was worth making out with five girls. Snickering to myself, I handed her a small stack of white plastic shot cups. “Deal.”

  With a grin of triumph, she grabbed a bottle of tequila and poured shots into them. She concentrated on getting the same amount in each one until there were three cups in front of her. I thought she was only going to drink one, but she let out a deep breath and grabbed them all, one by one. My jaw dropped as she downed three cups in a row before grabbing a can of Coke to chug.

  Wiping at her chin, she shoved the bottle at me. “I had three, so that means nine more for you, Mr. Big Shot.”

  I gave her an admiring look. Damn, she was tough. A lot tougher than I’d originally thought. My pride was yelling at me to do it, while my head told me to just let it go. As usual, my pride won. Oh, I was definitely going to regret this in the morning, but I couldn’t turn down her challenge. I splashed tequila in the cups she’d just used.

  Here goes nothing. I took each shot before I could back down. After the ninth shot, I couldn’t help gagging. I was a good drinker, but I’d already had a few drinks. Not to mention, I hated tequila. Dark liquor flowed down much smoother. I waved the last empty cup at Taylor in triumph. The room was already starting to spin a little bit, but determined not to embarrass myself, I kept my feet firmly planted on the ground. “Happy?”

  “Awesome. Let’s have another one.”

  I had to pry her away from the counter when she tried to lunge for the bottle again. Pride or no pride, I wasn’t planning to get shitfaced at the party tonight, and I knew I was already at my limit. “Let’s dance instead.”

  The crowd in the living room parted a bit when we came in. Or maybe we shoved through them. I don’t know. I didn’t really notice. I didn’t notice anyone but the fascinating girl in my arms.

  We danced to a few songs before someone turned on a slow one. Without any hesitation, Taylor wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Her face tilted back, and she bobbed to the music with her eyes closed. Tiny wisps of dark hair were plastered to her damp forehead.

  My hands clasped both sides of her hips. Her tank top rolled up a little over her capris, and I could feel her soft skin. Just an inch or so. I rubbed it beneath my fingertips, back and forth until it started to warm up beneath my fingers. All the while watching her face as she swayed to the music. Her face was calm, but her cheeks were turning a pretty pink. I didn’t know if it was because of my touch or because the alcohol was finally creeping up on her. Everything was already getting kind of blurry for me.

  Taylor opened her eyes and stared up at me. Her dark eyes were wide and unwavering. For some reason, I froze. I couldn’t look away. I just studied her face, from her small forehead to the little mole on her left cheekbone and sliding down to her rosy lips.

  Suddenly, she licked her lower lip ever so slightly before leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss me. It was soft and hard. Hot and electrifying. Despite all the alcohol she’d just drunk, she tasted like candy. Sweet and addictive.

  I wrapped my hands around her waist and pulled her tighter to my body. She fit perfectly in my arms, like she was made to be there. Belonged there. Her hands on my shoulders tightened like she heard me and agreed.

  {Taylor}

  With our hands linked together, we swayed in the empty street. My feet skipped to the music from the party still ringing in my ears. “Is it just me or is it really foggy tonight? Everything’s all fuzzy. The stars, the trees…” I squinted up at the sky and frowned. “Why are there two moons?”

  Instead of looking up, Evan just pointed a finger at me and snorted. “You’re so drunk.”

  “No way.” He had to be lying. I didn’t feel any different. I did feel happy, though. And light. Unburdened. Just in case, I let go of him and paced back and forth in a straight line. Perfectly straight. It couldn’t be any better if I had a ruler. I twirled in place. Once. Twice. “Maybe you’re the one who’s drunk.”

  “Oh, I definitely am. I’m still better than you.”

  I jabbed a finger in his direction. “No one is ever better than me—whoops.” My phone fell out of my pocket and hit the street with a loud crack. I stooped over to pick it up. “Oh crap.”

  Evan bent over to peer at my phone. His blond, spiky hair tickled my nose. “What’s wrong?”

  “Carly called and texted me a couple of times.” Blink. Blink. “Okay, more than a couple.” My fingers fumbled on the tiny screen as I tried to text back that I was fine. Why was it so hard? The buttons were tiny! Autocorrect kept putting in funny words and commas, making me erase the entire thing and start over. Concentrate, Taylor. You can do this.

  When I was on my tenth try, Evan’s hand reached out and grabbed the phone from me. “Oh god, let me do it.”

  “It’s not my fault my autocorrect is stupid.” I tried to grab it back, but he held it straight over his head as he typed. All I succeeded in doing was smacking the top of my boob into his shoulder. Owww. “Make sure you use correct grammar! I hate incorrect texts.”

  “Okay, Grammar Nazi. Done.” He stuck the phone into his pocket and reached for my hand. “Let’s go.”

  My happy grin turned into a grimace. There was a weird buildup in my chest that made me sick. “I think I’m going to hurl.”

  His eyes widened, and he pulled back. With both hands on my shoulders, Evan ushered me off the street and toward a bush on the edge of someone’s curb. I held my hair back from my face and threw up. Or at least tried to. The only thing that came up was some really bitter liquid. Once I started, though, it was like I couldn’t stop. Shuddering from the taste, I kept trying and trying, b
ut nothing else came up. Evan rubbed my back the whole time.

  Finally, when it was clear that I was done, he handed me a napkin. I finished wiping before realizing that it wasn’t a napkin at all. It was the edge of his blue T-shirt. And now it was stained a darkish color. “Ew, you’re dirty now.”

  “Because of you,” he said with a snort. “You’re welcome, by the way.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me along the street again. A little slower. His other arm wrapped around my shoulders.

  After a while, I started to feel a little better. Letting go of him, I twirled in the street. Once. Twice. My arms stretched over my head like a ballerina’s. Evan grinned and did the moonwalk toward me. Even his arms moved up and down as he hummed a funny, upbeat tune.

  I don’t know how long we danced in the street, but I swear I just blinked and we were standing in his room. Like we had apparated.

  The first thing I did was rush into his bathroom to brush my teeth and get the icky taste out of my mouth. When I came out, Evan was still standing, scratching the top of his head like he didn’t know where he was. Like a cute, confused monkey.

  I snorted. “So much for being good at drinking.”

  Evan leaned his back against the wall and slid down to the ground. “Tonight’s not my best moment. But do you want to see what else I’m good at?”

  Humming to myself, I stumbled over to his desk. “Not cleaning, that’s for sure. Look at all this stuff.” There was a pile of junk scattered on top. Magazines, comic books, keys, pens, and wires. With one hand, I shoved some of the boring stuff onto the floor.

  “Gee, that’s not helping. And watch out for that Spider-Man comic!” he complained with a yelp as he unsteadily climbed to his feet. “That’s the one with the Human Torch appearance. It’s probably worth about seventeen grand in mint condition.”

  I eyed the tattered copy in my hands. “This isn’t mint condition.”

  “Well, no, that’s a pretty bad one, but it’s still worth about fifty bucks.”

  Boys. I’ll never understand them. Still, I set the comic book back on the desk. Ahh, this looked interesting. I picked up a stack of pictures and shuffled through them. “Oh, she’s pretty. I like her hair. It’s really shiny and curly. Do you know what kind of conditioner she uses?”

  “Sorry, we didn’t do much talking that day,” he said with a devilish grin as he crossed his arms. “But I’ll ask her the next time I see her.”

  I snorted. “I doubt you even remember who she is.” Before he could respond, I got distracted by the slightly dull turquoise surfboard propped against the side of the desk.

  Dropping the pictures on the ground, I slid my fingers over the edge of the board, curving around the tip. Pretty. Was this the legendary board? So many nicks and scratches on the surface. There was no way he’d hooked up with this many girls. I didn’t even know if there were this many girls in Wilmington.

  I’d always wanted to try surfing. Well, there was a lot of stuff I’d always wanted to try. Like people say, there’s no time like the present! I propped the surfboard on the ground and hopped on.

  Well, I tried to. The darn thing was slippery or something. I couldn’t stand straight.

  Evan chuckled and reached out to steady me. His left hand curved around my waist until I wasn’t going to fall over anymore. My arms flung out on either side of me like I was on a tightrope.

  He grinned. “Remind me to take you to the beach someday.”

  “Because I look like I’m a natural surfer?”

  “No, because I want to see the look on your face when you wipe out and get dumped into the ocean by the first wave you catch.”

  I scowled at him, but his grin only grew wider. What did he know? I never fail at anything. Never, never, never.

  God, my feet hurt. Stupid fancy shoes. I hopped off the board, yanked them off, and chucked them into the small space beneath his desk. They smacked against the wall with a satisfying clunk. “Two points!”

  He took off his shirt and tossed it at me. “Jeez, not only are you really chatty, but you’re a loud drunk, too.”

  “I told you, I’m not drunk. I’m just happy.” My eyes squinted, and I tried to focus on the half-naked guy in front of me. But he kept fading in and out of focus, like he was a mirage. Was any of this real? Maybe this whole night wasn’t real. I reached out and poked the left side of his chest and then the right. Hmm, nice and firm.

  He glanced down at my hands still on his bare chest. “If you wanted to feel me up, you should have just asked.”

  “Don’t be cocky. No one wants to feel you up. I’m just making sure this isn’t a dream.” Backing up, I stumbled on some clothes on the ground. My legs wobbled, and I couldn’t move. My feet were stuck! What kind of magic was this? I lunged forward and would have landed smack on the carpet if Evan hadn’t grabbed me.

  To my surprise, he didn’t let go. His hands drifted down from my shoulders to tug on my hands. “Sit down before you hurt yourself.”

  I giggled and flopped down at the foot of the bed. “Yes, Daddy.”

  He snorted with laughter. “You don’t know how dirty that sounds.”

  “I do. Why do you think I said it?” I kicked my feet out and wiggled my toes. “I usually never get to say what I’m really thinking, though. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

  “What will?”

  “When people find out that I’m not perfect and proper. I’m snarky and sarcastic and rude. I’m a horrible person. A real closet witch.” I waved both arms in the air like I was confessing all my secrets to the world, and I accidentally smacked his cheek. It just felt so free to finally say what I wanted. Even if it was just to Evan. I tapped the side of my head with my index finger and gave him a cheeky grin. “And inappropriate dirty thoughts pop in and out of here. But I can’t admit to any of it. No, I can’t.”

  “Uh.” He gave me an intimate look and leaned in closer to me. “So, your inappropriate dirty thoughts. Are they about me?”

  “Don’t you want to know?”

  Evan laughed. “You’re right. I do. Way too much.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Why don’t you just rest a bit?”

  I wanted to argue, but my head suddenly felt heavy. Very, very heavy. I did need to rest. So tired. I climbed onto the bed and snuggled against the cool, fresh pillow. My hand smacked the pillow beside me. “Come. Lie down.”

  When he finally did, I scooted forward and lay against his bare shoulder. Hmmm. Despite all his muscles, it was soft and squishy like cotton candy. God, I would kill to have some cotton candy right now. Sweet and fluffy and melts in your mouth. I only eat the pink cotton candy. The blue would dye my lips.

  That’s stupid, though. Why? WHY? Nobody’s going to judge me if my mouth is a little blue. Nobody would care. Except me. But I couldn’t force myself to change. I can’t.

  “Why can’t I?” I raised my head and stared up at Evan, our faces only inches away from each other. I never noticed he had a faint smear of freckles on his nose. They practically blended in with his dark tan. I didn’t know if they were natural or from the hours he spent in the sun.

  Evan swallowed and pulled back an inch. “Now what are you talking about?”

  “What I want to do right now.”

  His voice got husky, and his eyes flickered down to my lips. “Well, what do you want to do?”

  “Eat cotton candy. Blue cotton candy.”

  He blinked at me in shock. That was definitely not the answer he was expecting. Evan bit his lip and turned his face away. But by the way his shoulders were shaking, I knew he was laughing at me.

  I didn’t care. Well, I did a little, but not that much.

  Evan wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pushed my head down, and rested his chin against the top of my head. “I’ll get you some cotton candy tomorrow. Let’s just sleep for now.”

  Something was weird and wrong about this. But it took too much energy to focus on anything, so I gave up. Hopefully it wasn’t anything important. Nothing was imp
ortant now.

  I closed my eyes and leaned against his chest, cushioning my head in the nook beneath his chin. I was safe and warm. And this felt perfect. Nothing else mattered.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First I want to give a special thanks to you, the reader. You read my book all the way to the end! Or, at least, I hope you read it instead of just skipping to the end. Not that there’s anything wrong with reading it that way. ☺ You’re the reason I write and why I’ll continue to write. I love you!

  My deepest appreciation goes to my publisher, Jean Feiwel, for giving The Way to Game the Walk of Shame the chance to be published. I really don’t know what would have happened to my book if I hadn’t submitted it to Swoon Reads, but I do know that it could not be in better hands anywhere else. Thank you for taking a chance on Evan and Taylor!

  Holly, is there any way to get you nominated for the Best Editor Award? We really should look into that because you are just amazing! I didn’t really know what to expect working with an editor, but you exceeded any expectation I could ever have. Your comments and insight are incredible and spot on. I consider myself so lucky to be able to work with you.

  A huge thanks to Lauren, Emily, Rich, KB, and everyone on the Swoon Reads team for making The Way to Game the Walk of Shame shine as brightly as it does on the inside and outside. I never could have imagined my novel could be so incredible, and it’s because of all your hard work. And a huge HUG to the whole Swoon Reads community for all their reading, rating, and reviewing.

  So much love for my writing buddies, Shayda, Rachel, and Ashley. Seriously, thank you for being there through all the querying, submissions, and meltdowns. For patting me on the shoulder and telling me everything will be okay. For reading and critiquing The Way to Game when it was still The Love Contract. For the late-night chats and brainstorming. And just being the most incredible cheerleaders anyone could ever ask for. I’m so glad to have met you guys. We’ll have our dream writers’ retreat one day!