“Who do you think you are, new girl?” Henry said.
“She’s my best friend,” I said, and I didn’t mean to say “best,” but maybe I did.
Then Jake said, “What happened to Peggy? You get jealous because she’s having sex with Carl Zerrela?”
“She is not!” I yelled, and hit him, even though I’d never hit anyone.
Henry didn’t say anything, but his face made me so sick to my stomach—he knew something, something about Peggy—so I pushed by him, holding tightly on to Kendra. We got to the stairs, and there was Trevor, and he smiled at me, I think, but I was too worried about Peggy so I said, “I have to go check on Peggy,” and then …
Trevor said, “I’ll help you,” which was weird, but then I thought, well, obviously he wants to help because then he gets to see Peggy.
I let go of Kendra’s hand as I ran up the stairs, but she ran just as fast, and Trevor was right behind both of us, and I turned and flung open Peggy’s bedroom door and there on the bed was Wanda with a junior boy. The boy’s shirt was off and Wanda only had on her underwear and bra. And Peggy was on the floor with the same junior that she had been dancing with. He had pulled off her dress strap so that her right boob was hanging out and her skirt was hiked up to her belly button. Peggy was so pale, and her makeup was smeared over her face like a clown.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
The junior boy on the floor said, “Get out of here!”
“Peggy!” I screamed, and got down on my knees next to her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” she yelled, swatting me away, but I could see in her eyes—because we had been friends forever—that she wasn’t fine.
“Get out of here!” the junior boy said again. He stood up and tried to grab me, but Trevor pulled him away from me. Trevor was taller than he was, and the junior boy wasn’t quite as brave anymore.
“Carrie?” Peggy said. “I don’t…” And then she threw up on her carpet. It was brown, with tiny chunks of pizza she had eaten, but mostly hot and liquid.
“Fucking gross!” the boy said, grabbed his shirt and left. Wanda and the boy she was with also picked up their clothes and disappeared. I picked up Peggy, or tried to. Kendra helped, and we took her to the bathroom. She was moaning, then she threw up again, and started crying, telling me she was sorry and how much she loved me. But then she went silent, like she was sleeping with her eyes open, and she looked so sick and scared. We wet a towel and cleaned her face, then wet another and put it against her forehead. Then I laid her down on the bathroom floor and Peggy fell asleep.
“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” I asked. Kendra shrugged. I was scared. I called my mom, who answered, and I was so happy my mom was a nurse even though sometimes I hated how much she worked. I told her what happened to Peggy. I was worried she was going to yell at me for being at a party with alcohol, but my mom actually never yells, and she was calm and had me check Peggy’s breathing and pulse and eventually she said Peggy would be fine. She just needed to sleep.
So Kendra and I helped Peggy back to her room, and put sweatpants and a sweatshirt on her, and turned off the light. Kendra whispered, “My mom’s here to pick me up. Do you want a ride?”
I said, “I think I should stay a little while longer.”
Kendra said, smiling, “I think you should talk to Trevor.” I had—honestly!—forgotten about him after Peggy started throwing up. Kendra and I hugged, she left, and I watched Peggy sleep for a long time, maybe ten minutes, before I thought she was fine and maybe I should see if Trevor was still at the party.
So I closed Peggy’s door behind me and put up a Post-it note that said KEEP OUT so no boys would go in there, and walked back downstairs. It was still so crowded, and I thought, even if Trevor was here, I would never find him, and he probably went home anyway and that’s when I heard a police siren, saw the spinning red lights, and someone yelled, “COPS!”
And whoooosh, all the gazillion people started running toward the doors at once, and jumping out the windows, and people screamed from getting smushed, and something crashed. Luckily, I was on the stairs, and so I just stepped backward and watched everyone flee as if the house were on fire. I didn’t run because, well, I thought someone shouldn’t.
By the time two police officers stepped through the front door, I was the only person there.
“You live here?” one of policemen asked.
“No,” I said. “This is the Darrys’ house.”
“Where are the parents?”
“On vacation in Wisconsin.”
“What’s going on?” a voiced yelled, stumbling out from the basement. It was Katherine. She was drunk, and angrier than usual. Which is a lot. The senior boy that had grabbed her ass before was behind her, shirt off, but when he saw the cops he ran out the back door even though he didn’t have shoes on.
“You live here?” the first policeman asked Katherine. She rolled her eyes, stumbled over to the couch, and collapsed into it.
“Yes, I fucking live here. Shit. This sucks.”
“You should leave, miss,” the second policeman said to me.
“I can’t. Peggy’s sick. She’s passed out.”
“Where is she?”
“In her bedroom.” I pointed up the stairs.
“We’ll make sure she’s okay,” the policeman said. “Do you have someone to take you home?”
“She has her fucking bike!” Katherine said, then cackled and swore under her breath.
“I can walk her home,” a boy’s voice said, stepping into the house from outside. Everyone turned except me since I was already facing him.
It was Trevor.
You know how I said I didn’t really love him because I didn’t know what that meant? Well, now I knew what it meant. I really did. And, gosh, did I love him.
18
Trevor does his own party loop
When I arrived at the party, my eyes locked with Carolina’s. I didn’t stop to talk to her, because I’m a wimp, so they didn’t stay locked for long, but for that one moment … I’m not going to say any generic, fake-romantic crap. No. It was just that, I knew … Crap. I don’t know. Maybe I just I knew I liked looking into her eyes and wanted to do it again as soon as possible.
But I followed Aaron and Tor and their friend they called DJ into the house. We had to push our way through an endless, thick wall of people. Why? I don’t know. Because at parties you have to move around so you look like you know what you’re doing, I guess. Stupid. Whatever. But halfway across the living room, I realized I was only getting farther away from where I wanted to be. So I let the sophomores keep doing their party loop, and I stopped and looked back. Carolina and Kendra had stepped inside. Carolina was looking for someone. For me? Probably not. But maybe. Yeah. Why not, Trev? Why’s it always have to be someone else? Why couldn’t it be you? So I started moving back toward the front, but I lost sight of them and by the time I got near the door, in front of the stairs, I had totally lost them. Looking outside, I considered leaving. Just because. But then I waited. Just because.
When I spotted Carolina again, she was talking to my cousin Henry. He was hitting on her. He was goddamn hitting on her. Told me I couldn’t like her, but here he was, making a move. Everyone’s a liar. Or an asshole. Or both, like my cousin. Then I noticed Carolina’s face. She didn’t like Henry hitting on her. Not at all. And I couldn’t stop being happy for a second, even though I hate being happy.
Then something changed, and Carolina walked toward me, and I was nervous until she said, “I have to go check on Peggy.”
And not even knowing what I was thinking, I said, “I’ll help you,” and followed her up the stairs. We found Peggy drunk, getting felt up by some creepy upperclassman. When he tried to push Carolina away from helping Peggy, I stepped between them. I’m not brave. Never been in a real fight in my life. But I don’t know. Hard to describe. Just did it and wouldn’t have backed down no matter what. Didn’t need to. Peggy puked and that cl
eared the room. Carolina and Kendra helped their friend to the bathroom and closed the door.
I lingered in the upstairs hall, but then felt like I was stalking her and she needed private time with her friends, so I went downstairs. The screaming and drinking and claustrophobia of the party all looked so boring. Truth? It didn’t look boring; I felt I was boring looking at it. The more people at the party … the more alone I felt. Man, I’m lame.
Went outside. Thought about going home. It was a good night. I had done what I hoped. Saw Carolina. Even helped her help her friend. Yeah. I might have even looked brave in her eyes, maybe? So a good night. I should go home. Not ruin it. Not stalk her. Not look desperate and strange. But I couldn’t get my legs to start walking home. So I went and leaned against a big tree and stared back at the party. Stalker! I’m such a freak! If my life were a horror movie, I would be the serial killer about to kill every kid at the party. But I’m a good guy. Right? I just didn’t fit in. But I didn’t want to leave either. So I was an outsider standing outside. I guess I was where I belonged.
Then I heard a siren, and police lights flashed. A cop car stopped in the middle of the street, someone yelled, “COPS!” inside the house, and then, crazy-town, every kid flung himself or herself out of the party. I just stood there, smiling at how funny they all looked sprinting in fifty directions out of the house, like baby mice escaping a sinking ship.
Most of the kids had fled by the time the two policemen got out of the car. One of them said to me, “Go home.”
And I said, “I’m waiting for someone.”
He didn’t like how I talked back to him, so he repeated it: “I said, go home.” But he didn’t know I knew I wasn’t doing anything illegal. Also, I knew he was probably just another screwed-up adult who only pretended he knew what he was doing. So I ignored him, and the police forgot about me and walked inside. Through the open front door I could see her.
Carolina. Standing on the stairs. She hadn’t run.
I started moving toward the front door. Maybe to get a better look at her. Then I heard a cop say, “Do you have someone to take you home?” And I had my moment. So I walked inside and said, “I can walk her home.” And Carolina looked at me. And I looked at her. And our eyes locked for more than a moment. I almost thought, “they locked forever,” but that would be just the fake-romantic crap I hate, so I didn’t think it.
* * *
Carolina led a cop upstairs to show him Peggy and came back a minute later with her bag. We didn’t say anything, but we did both look at Katherine Darry at the same time. She was crying to the other cop, and saliva and snot were running down her chin.
Then we turned and left through the front door. Together.
We started walking down the sidewalk. I was leading, I suppose, but I didn’t know where she lived, so maybe I should ask that. But I didn’t want to say anything. Which was so stupid. But I didn’t. Then I noticed her wobbling on her heels and I said, “Do you have other shoes in your bag?”
She looked at her bag, thinking. “Yes,” she said, “but they would look dumb with this dress.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
Then we didn’t say anything or move for a long time. At least ten seconds.
She said, “I left my bike.…”
“Would you rather ride home?” I asked.
“No!” Then she took a deep breath. “I’ll come back tomorrow and check on Peggy, and I can get it then.” We stood there again. Another super-epic ten seconds. I grabbed her bag, unzipped it, took out her sneakers, and I don’t why the hell I did this, but I got on one knee. Helped take off her heels and put on her sneakers one at a time.
What the hell, Trevor?
I was clearly not normal in my brain. But whatever. I liked helping her. When I stood back up, she had this smile on her face. She was trying to not smile, which only made the smile that much more pure. Goddamn, she was pretty. But I had to stop thinking that or else I’d say something dumb.
19
Carolina …
So. Like. Wait a minute.
Wait.
A.
Minute.
I didn’t know what was happening. Really. He was on his knee, helping me change my shoes, LIKE I WAS CINDERELLA, but, you know, instead of a glass slipper, it was my sneakers. This was a movie. But it was my life! But it was a movie, but so perfect I almost didn’t believe it, even if it was a movie, so how was I supposed to believe it was happening for real?
Gosh.
But, you know, it was happening. It really was. And then, after he changed my shoes, and I finally managed to say, “Thanks,” without exploding from happiness, we started walking again. We were going the wrong way to my house but no way—no way!—was I going to tell him that.
Neither of us could talk. Why didn’t I talk? He will think I’m so boring if I don’t talk! Talk, Carolina, talk, talk, talk, talk, talk … But my mouth didn’t say anything, and I hated it because he was going to hate me for not saying anything.
20
Trevor …
Carolina looked so goddamn perfect in her dress and sneakers, and walking with such grace, and here I was, not able to think of anything to say to her. Why couldn’t I think of anything? Just say something, Trevor. Say anything. Don’t just walk next to her, acting like an uncool tool. But …
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing came to my head.
This is why you shouldn’t have stayed. She’s going to realize what a loser you are. If you had left, maybe gotten hit by a car and died on the way home, she would have thought forever how you were so great for helping her with Peggy. But now? Now she was going to see how lame you are.
Say something, Trevor!
But.
Crap.
Crap …
21
Carolina …
Even though we were walking side by side, I kept turning my head so I could look at his face. He was just so attractive, and he was walking with me. ME! And even though he might never talk to me again after I was being so boring, I would remember this as the most amazing night of my life. Except then, when I still couldn’t think of anything to say, I suddenly couldn’t stop thinking Trevor was just being nice to me so he could impress Peggy. It made nooo sense, but my brain couldn’t stop thinking it anyway, so I finally said, “Do you like Peggy?”
I should never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever have said that. I ruined everything! But then Trevor said, “No. Katherine said I should. I thought she told me to like Peggy because you told her to tell me that.”
“No!” I burst out, though I didn’t mean to be so loud. I wanted him to know I liked him, or at least that I didn’t want him to like Peggy, but I didn’t want him to know I wanted him to know so much. So I calmed myself down, super calm, and said, “I didn’t tell her to say that at all. Katherine is…”
“Not cool,” he said. I had never heard anyone call Katherine not cool. Crazy. Mean. Bitchy. But never not cool.
“She’s the most popular girl in school,” I said. Why did I say this?
“Being popular has nothing to do with being cool,” Trevor said, and he sounded sooo cool saying it.
“Thank you for walking me home,” I said, because I didn’t want to tell him I liked him unless he said it first, but he would never say it because he was silent again because he was so cool and so in control and—
22
Trevor …
I like you, Carolina. Except I didn’t say it. Only the biggest dork on earth would say something so obvious. But maybe I should say it because it would be real, not fake, not like all those dumb TV shows and movies where people pretend not to like each other forever, and a bunch of dumb things happen just because neither the girl nor the boy was smart enough to just say what they feel.
Goddamn. Yeah. Screw it.
“I like you, Carolina.” I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of my mouth, and yet, it felt good. I felt free. But she didn’t say anything. Crap! Why didn’t I just keep my m
outh shut? Then I realized there was a tear in her eye. Which I didn’t understand. But it disappeared and just glistened a bit. And then that smile happened again and she said—
23
Carolina …
“I like you too,” I said. Oh. My. Gosh. I said I liked a boy. To his face. And he had said he liked me. What did this mean? I MUST KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS OR I WILL DIE.
No, Carrie. No.
Wait a minute. I should say to myself …
No, Carolina, no.
You will not die. Because you are a grown-up now. You are in high school. You went to a high school party.
And now a boy was walking me home. An amazing boy who liked me and I liked him and I would spend the rest of eternity with him. That was so silly, but it was true. Even though it was impossible, it was so true.
Part Two
A COUPLE FOR A MONTH
24
Trevor meets the other man in her life
After we had walked a long, long time, Carolina explained we were going in the wrong direction. I’m an idiot. But she, because she’s perfect, could tell I felt like an idiot, and she said, “It’s my fault! I should have said something, but I just was, you know … enjoying walking with you, so I didn’t say anything.”
“That’s why I didn’t ask,” I said, and then we both didn’t say anything. Until I said, “I can call my dad to see if he can pick us up here.”
“He won’t be mad?”
“He’ll probably be mad, but it’s almost midnight.”
“I can call my dad,” she said.
“He won’t be mad?”
“I’m mad at him, so he knows he can’t be mad at me.” So Carolina called her dad and told him to pick us up in front of the town library, which had been closed for construction since I moved here.
I asked Carolina why she was mad at her dad, and she opened her mouth but then stopped herself. I shouldn’t have asked. Just because someone likes you doesn’t mean you should ask about her family. In fact, if you like her, you shouldn’t ask about her family. I know I wouldn’t like it if Carolina asked me about my mom.
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