by Ali Dean
Dave goes back to his friends, and, when he does, a few of them turn around to look up at us. But, at that same moment, Jesse walks off the court, and I know immediately when his eyes find me. My skin goes hot, and my toes clench in my sneakers. He smiles when my eyes meet his, and then he makes his way toward me.
The match must have ended, and I was too wrapped up in Jesse’s movements around the court to notice that it was the last game of the set. At first, I think he’s heading up to see me, but his friends keep stopping him to talk, and eventually, I decide it’s stupid to sit here any longer.
Sally stands up with me. “I’m probably going to hit up the Woodland party first. That’s where all my friends are going. Maybe, if it’s lame, we’ll come to the Kendricks, but people have been talking about this thing at Olivia Carmichael’s place all week.”
“Carmichael?” A cold sweat trickles down my back, and I don’t think it’s from the match earlier. Roger Carmichael. Husband number five.
“Yeah. I guess her parents separated a few months ago, and neither of them are ever home now, so she’s started throwing these parties.
Sucks for her, but, supposedly, the parties are amazing.” Again, Sally relays all of the information without any snark. I guess she has a gift for delivering juicy facts in a dry manner. She has no personal investment in them, and she doesn’t pretend otherwise. But she’s got no idea what she’s doing to me with her words. No idea.
There are people moving around us, talking about today’s matches and tonight’s plans. No one else seems to care that the big party tonight is happening because my mother is a greedy homewrecker. The girl throwing the party had her life ripped apart because of my mother. I don’t know the whole story, and I don’t need to. Once my mom has her claws in a man, he doesn’t stand a chance. I’ve witnessed it. Maybe Roger and his wife would have divorced without Delilah Ferris in the picture, but I can guarantee she made everything uglier.
I know that Sally is waiting for me to respond, but I’m not sure what to say. An arm wraps around my waist, and I stiffen at first, before the scent of Old Spice body wash, mixed with Tide laundry detergent and boy sweat, fills my senses.
“Hey, Jesse, good game.” I’m talking, but my mind is somewhere else entirely.
“Thanks.” He studies my expression for a moment, and then takes in Sally standing next to us. “Hi, Sally Childs, right? I’m Jesse. I think we’ve met before though.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you around at tennis tournaments, maybe some parties.” I notice her voice doesn’t shift to that girly fake one she used with Dave. “Your girl here just embarrassed me on the court. I knew she was good but, damn, I stood no chance at all.” Your girl? What is she doing?
“Yep, my girl is unstoppable with a racket.” His eyes are laughing when he squeezes me closer, and I wonder why he’s playing along like this.
I don’t think I like it. I want sincerity, not games.
Pulling away, I tell Sally we might see her tonight, and then walk away.
Chapter 4
Emma is having too much fun with this, and I’m not about to stop her. I’m feeling reckless, and, whether it was my attitude or Emma’s that started it, we’re feeding off each other.
“Come on, Mac!” she manages to squeal and whisper simultaneously.
“Did you just whisper-squeal at me?” I ask, as I swing my legs over a tree branch and scoot toward the edge.
She doesn’t answer, just jumps over the fence in her backyard and rolls on the ground in a dramatic landing. Emma is already drunk. Me, I’m dead sober, a requirement in our escape plan.
We climbed this tree, and escaped over her fence, dozens of times in middle school and freshmen year, when our curfew messed with our plans. We haven’t had a curfew in nearly two years. Laura and Paul Kendrick trust us to party responsibly, I guess, and they aren’t wrong about that. We’re responsible. Usually. Mostly. Relatively speaking.
Tonight, we are sneaking out of our own party. Well, it’s Jesse’s party, really, because Emma wants to go the Woodland party. I didn’t try to talk her out of it. I know it’s a bad idea, but I want to go, too. I want to see Olivia Carmichael. I don’t know what I hope to find out, but, as soon as Sally Childs mentioned who was throwing the party, some twisted part of me burned to be there. It isn’t idle curiosity, or guilt from my mother’s actions, and it certainly isn’t a sense that I’m connected to this girl, or might someday be her stepsister. No, it’s darker than that, and I’m unwilling to analyze it. I have no problem acting on it though, and I jump easily over the fence, jogging after Emma to her Audi A4 as she beeps it open and tosses the keys behind her.
“Emma, you just threw your keys in a bush!” I shake my head as I dig through the bush to find them.
“Oops, I thought I was being stealth tossing them to you.” She laughs, and then covers her mouth with her hand. “Shhh!” More laughter as she ducks into the passenger seat.
“You just shushed yourself,” I tell her as I start the engine, and she just laughs again before blasting the radio.
We waited until Jesse’s party was in full swing before leaving. The house was filled with people, and it’s unlikely Jesse will notice our absence. But, we don’t want anyone else knowing where we’re headed either, so we parked a car on the other side of their fence and snuck out behind the bushes.
Olivia Carmichael’s house is fifteen minutes away, and it sits on top of a hill. The long winding driveway is filled with cars, and I’m glad. It means there will be too many people here to be noticed.
Emma’s on a mission to find this Lincoln guy, and she holds my hand, practically dragging me along behind her as she weasels her way through a crowded kitchen.
“He said he’d be out back by the pool,” she calls over her shoulder.
I follow, but I keep my eyes open to my surroundings, searching for this Olivia, even though I have no idea what she looks like. After our tennis matches, we were busy prepping for the party, and I didn’t get a chance to social media stalk her. I know only what her father looks like.
When we get to the pool deck, I spot a group lounging by the edge of the water, and they hold that standoffish aura, the one that tells me they’re the Woodland popular crowd. It’s not a negative thing, just a cool aloofness that develops when your peers admire you and seek your attention. Jesse is one of the only people I know who remains welcoming and friendly while holding a popular status.
“Which one is he?” I ask, as Emma’s pace slows and she collects herself.
“The one leaning on the bar, shirtless, towel around his neck.” I can’t see his face, but as we approach, the guy on the other side of the bar sees Emma, says something, and Lincoln turns around. His eyes light up, and I know immediately he has it bad for my best friend. It’s not the first time; the Kendrick siblings share that unique charm over the opposite sex, but this time, Emma’s different, too. That whole aloof thing that the popular kids have? Emma usually has that with boyfriends, too, but not this guy. Hell, she ditched her brother’s party to see him, and acts totally uncool in his presence.
Like, right now, she’s gripping my hand and giggling, and I have to look at her to make sure I’m not missing something. Nope, she’s just giving googly eyes to Lincoln.
“Hey, baby,” he greets her, and that surprises me too. Pet names already? She drops my hand for his, and introduces us.
“This is my best friend, Mackenzie Bell, and Mac, this is Lincoln
Sanders.”
“Nice to meet you, Mac, I’ve heard a ton about you.”
“Thanks, I guess? I can’t say the same, but only because Emma’s been spending all her time with you since you two met,” I say with a smile.
Lincoln and Emma share a glance and a secretive smile.
“You ladies want some shots?” the guy on the other side of the bar asks, already pouring a dark liquid into a line of shot glasses. “I’m Chester, by the way.”
Chester looks familiar, and he see
ms to know Emma already. “Have we met before?” I ask him.
“Not officially, but I know who you are. Is there a truce between our schools now?” Chester finishes pouring the shots, and we each hold one up and throw it back. “Does Jesse know you’re here?”
Emma is already in Lincoln’s lap, and I don’t think she’s paying attention. “You know Jesse?” I ask, deflecting.
“Sure, everyone knows Jesse Kendrick. Things are tense between some of the guys at my school and yours. I’m staying out of it, personally, and Lincoln here thinks he’s in love,” he says quietly and conspiratorially, as our friends make out next to us. “So he’s not involved, either. Not that he was before the two of them, you know. But yeah, last I knew, shit was going down.”
“What kind of shit?” I ask, gesturing for him to pour another.
He shrugs, and fills the glasses. “Like I said, I’m staying out of it.”
We cheers to nothing in particular and, just as I swallow the whiskey and put the glass back down, we hear someone shout over the music and voices. “Cops!”
Emma breaks apart from Lincoln and looks at me. “Can you drive?”
“No, I just took two shots. And, even if I could, the driveway’s a mile long. Cops will be here by then.”
Everyone starts moving around us and we hear sirens. “Cops are already here,” Chester states the obvious. “Come on. My house isn’t far.” He sounds calm and confident, so we follow him. It’s not like we’ve got any other options.
But there are scared kids in various states of intoxication running in all directions, and the panic is contagious. I’ve never had an encounter with police before, and I don’t want that to change tonight. Chester starts jogging toward a back fence that others are jumping, and, when I look behind me, I see that officers are already on the back porch. Why did they put their sirens on? I vaguely wonder. Wouldn’t it have been smarter not to alert us of their arrival? Maybe the point is just to scare us. Well, it worked.
I don’t see any trees by the fence, but I’m an athlete and I’m able to jump up, grab the top, and hoist myself over it without any help. Except, once I’m on the other side, I realize that Lincoln and Emma aren’t with us. I spin around, checking to make sure I didn’t miss them, but I only see lots of unfamiliar faces.
“Come on,” Chester calls, taking my hand. Why does he even care what happens to me? Is it because his friend is hooking up with my friend? “I live through the woods.”
“Hang on. Where’s Emma and Lincoln?” I slip my phone out of my back pocket and call her. Chester gestures for me to keep moving as I listen to it ring, which I do.
Emma answers her phone. “Where’d you go? I thought you were following me and Lincoln.”
“What? I thought you were following me and Chester.”
She pauses. “We got in someone’s truck.”
I don’t like that, but, even drunk, Emma isn’t stupid. “Is it safe?” I ask anyway, because I can’t help it.
“Yeah, we got lucky. A DD who’s on the lacrosse team with Lincoln picked us up.” My stomach clenches as I follow Chester through the woods, and then it dawns on me maybe I should be worrying about myself instead of Emma. But still.
“Okay, just, you know stuff is going on with those guys and our guys. Be careful.”
“Wait. Me? How are you getting home? I think Chester is okay, but he was drinking, so don’t drive with him.”
“I think we’re walking to his house.”
“You be careful, too, Mac.”
We hang up, and I don’t know if the anxiety rippling through me is for my own safety or for Emma’s. We’re far into the woods now, but Chester reassures me his house is on the other side.
“I wonder if one of your Hillcrest people made the call,” he says, holding a branch out of the way for me to duck under.
“What do you mean? The cops?”
“Yeah. I mean, check out where we are. Olivia lives in the boonies. We’ve never had calls for her parties before.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Should I care? I don’t really. Unless it has to do with Jesse, it seems irrelevant. “But then they can just call out Jesse’s party, and he wouldn’t risk that.” Not after last time.
“Jesse’s throwing a party?”
Oh, shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course, no one really knew about it until today, so that would have protected him, sort of. Not really. Word spreads fast. Dave told Sally about it earlier, though Sally doesn’t go to Woodland.
“Just a little thing,” I downplay it. “A few guys.”
Chester reassures me. “Relax, I’m not going to call the cops on him. I like Jesse more than I like the dudes at my school who have a problem with him.”
“Wait, this is about Jesse? I thought it was about Dave Walden hooking up with someone’s girlfriend?”
We emerge from the woods, and my phone beeps.
Jesse: where are you?
Shit. He noticed we weren’t at the party. I text Emma before returning Jesse’s text, but Emma says she already told Jesse what happened, and that she’s crashing at Lincoln’s house. Some of my worry eases at that, and I realize just how much anxiety I had about her in a truck full of Woodland’s lacrosse team. After seeing the way Lincoln looked at her, I’m not worried about her staying with him.
Me: I’m at someone’s house.
Jesse’s going to be pissed at what we did, and I cringe when my phone rings. I’ve never defied him so blatantly before, and I hope I haven’t broken a trust between us.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Where are you?” he asks again, but it’s not anger in his voice. Maybe it is anger, actually. I’m not sure I’ve heard Jesse really mad, and this could be what it sounds like.
“I’m with this guy, Chester,” I start to say, and I know it sounds bad. It’s not like me to run off with some guy. “We left the party. I know you told us not to go, and you were right. Did you hear the cops came?”
“Mac, tell me where you are.” He’s trying to control his emotions, but I don’t want him to. I want to know what he’s feeling. “I just got to Chester’s house. We’re in Woodland somewhere.” “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” And then he hangs up.
The conversation was unlike any I’ve had with Jesse, and I don’t know what to think. How does he know where Chester lives? I didn’t even give a last name because I don’t know it. Is he concerned for me? Have I let him down?
I think I’m about to see a side of Jesse I’ve never seen before, and that shouldn’t excite me as much as it does.
Chapter 5
Chester leads me to a guest house a little ways down the driveway from the main house. I tell him Jesse is coming to get me, and he nods. “I’ve had parties here before. He knows where I live,” he answers my unasked question.
Jesse arrives only minutes later, and he is in rare form. Carefree, friendly Jesse is gone, and he’s replaced by a man on the edge. The edge of what, I don’t know, but I’m eager to find out. He doesn’t smile at Chester, just nods, takes my hand, and leads me to his car. I don’t know what to say to Chester. Do I thank him for helping me out of that party? Jesse doesn’t give me a chance to decide. He shuts my door, exchanges a few words with Chester, and hops in the driver’s seat.
I wait for him to explain what he’s thinking, yell at me, or otherwise let out whatever it is that’s brewing inside of him. Because he’s tense as all hell, and it’s driving me crazy in ways that seem entirely inappropriate to the situation. It takes all my self-control not to reach out and touch his tense shoulder, or rub a hand on his thigh in reassurance or comfort. I don’t know why he needs that, if it even has anything to do with me, but I want to be the one to soothe him.
We pull up onto his street, and it’s still packed with cars. He left his own party to get me, which isn’t shocking, but he still hasn’t said a word. Maybe there’s something going on with the Woodland guys, and he wants me to stay out of it.
He pulls into his garage, tur
ns off the car, and faces me. My throat tightens when I see his face. There’s a storm in his eyes, and my hand starts to reach for him, but he grabs it.
“Jesse?”
“Mac.”
“You’re upset.”
He nods, holding my gaze. “I don’t know what to say.”
He’s on the verge of saying something important, I think, and I want to scream, “Spit it out already!” but I also don’t want to scare his words away.
“Tell me,” I encourage gently.
He lowers our hands and leans forward. “What were you doing with Chester?”
“Chester?” Chester is irrelevant. Why is he asking about him?
“Chester.”
“Nothing. We left the party in a hurry when the cops came, and we ended up together. I couldn’t drive or get to my car, and I didn’t really know anyone there.”
“Did he touch you?”
“What? Like, where?”
His face begins to soften, and I think a smile is tugging his lips. I’m so confused. “I thought Chester might have made a move on you. He has a reputation.”
“You’re one to talk,” I blurt out, regretting it before the words are fully out of my mouth. Where did that come from?
Jesse’s eyebrows shoot up, and I know I’ve surprised him. But, then the door to the house opens. Cyrus flips on the light switch, walks toward the fridge, opens it, grabs a thirty rack, and then looks up and sees us. He grins.
Jesse opens his door and gets out. “We were talking,” he says sternly, and holds Cyrus in a stare down until Cyrus wipes away his grin.
“Yeah, man, I know.”
I get out of the car, say hello to Cyrus, and the three of us head inside. Jesse pulls me to the side before we join the masses. “We need to talk, okay? Tonight.”
“Yeah. We do.” I’m relieved he’s on the same page as me, and that I didn’t imagine all the emotions swirling around between us in that car. I felt like I was on the verge of unwrapping a new layer of Jesse Kendrick before we were interrupted. I just hope that wasn’t my only shot.