Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,43

else doing?

No one answered right away. I had no way of knowing if it was because I’d been the one who asked or if they were all experiencing their own rocky moments.

Rose eventually replied with a clipped fine, which I interpreted to mean she didn’t want to tell me anything.

Lillian sent a really great, which could have meant any number of things, but seemed to say I’m trying to have a positive attitude, but really everything sucks.

Lola and Layne neither one replied before I went upstairs to get ready for the party. I didn’t know what to make of their silence, but who knew? Maybe they were just busy.

And maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself. And that made me angry. I didn’t need the DIVAS. It didn’t matter that they would understand more than anyone how terrifying it was to lose my partner so close to the competition. If I told them what happened with Josh, they’d probably just laugh. They’d probably think I deserved it, that it was all my own fault. They’d probably be right.

I set down my foundation brush and stared at my reflection in the small mirror I used to put on my makeup. I never meant to push people away, but that didn’t keep them from leaving.

I was still terrified. While our rehearsals were going well, I wondered if Adam and I were doing enough to win the competition. I tossed my hair over my shoulder and picked up my makeup brush again. Worrying was silly, a complete waste of time. Whereas making myself presentable for this party wasn’t. For the next forty minutes, I took my time putting on makeup and curling my hair. It was almost nine by the time I finished and changed my clothes, satisfied that I’d done all I could to make myself presentable.

“Melly!” I called out as I went down the stairs. My heart beat off its usual rhythm when she didn’t answer, and I raced into the family room. “Melly.”

“Hmm,” came her grumpy reply, and my heart settled back into its regular pattern. She’d fallen asleep on the couch, sprawled under the comforter from her bed, a bucket of popcorn propped on her stomach, her glasses askew.

“Silly girl,” I murmured, picking up the popcorn and placing it on the coffee table along with her glasses. Her blanket needed straightening, and she had one leg kicked over the edge of the couch. Once she was settled, I checked for headphone cords or a device buried nearby. She often fell asleep while playing a game on her phone or tablet, giving me nightmares about one of them bursting into flames while she slept.

She’d sleep just fine on the couch, I decided and turned off the television and all but one lamp near the stairs in case she woke up disoriented. Dad would move her if he wanted.

I glanced at the time on my phone for the millionth time since Mom had left hours ago. Almost nine-thirty. She said one of them would be back by nine. I had more texts from Lydia and Bella, asking me when I was coming, but I didn’t reply. Angry and frustrated, I went to sit on the front porch and wait for one of them to get home.

“Oh, my gosh! It’s about time you got here!” Lydia was a little tipsy. She never got drunk, but she did like a wine cooler every now and then, which loosened her up a bit.

“Let’s not talk about it!” I shouted over the music. It was after ten, and the house was packed. I didn’t even know the guy who was throwing the party. He went to our school and made an open invitation. The house was incredible with marble pillars and glossy tile floors. Every inch of it seemed to be filled with gyrating bodies, dancing, and having fun. It helped my mood improve dramatically.

“Come on, it gets even better outside.” Lydia grabbed my wrist and started dragging me toward the back of the house. I kept my eyes peeled for people I knew, but found there were only a few.

“Lots of college guys,” Lydia said into my ear, pumping her eyebrows as she pulled back. That was no great surprise given the amount of alcohol being consumed.

“Where’s Bella?” I hadn’t seen her anywhere in the crowd as we’d pushed through it.

“Fangirl-ing,” Lydia said and rolled her eyes. “Do you need a drink?” We’d reached the kitchen. It was quieter but not by much.