time.
“You’re up,” Danielle says. Then she licks a dollop of whipped cream from the top of her drink, staring at him like she’s licking something else. Danielle’s stare is a powerful thing; she uses eye contact like a weapon.
“Uh, thanks,” he says. His voice is like warm, hot fudge.
The girls rush back to the table.
“Did you see that guy?” Ava hisses, probably not as quietly as she should.
Danielle takes a long frozen sip of her drink. When she pulls her mouth away, there’s a red lipstick mark on the straw. Before Danielle, I always associated lipstick with old ladies, the smell of powder perfumes and hairspray that always hovered around my grandma. But lipstick is Danielle’s signature.
“I should go back and talk to him.” She glances over her shoulder.
“Yeah you definitely should!” Ava nods vigorously.
Danielle looks back at him and shrugs, then walks to the door instead. “Whatever, he’s not worth it.”
It’s not like Danielle at all to shy away from a guy, especially one as good-looking as James Dean, and I wonder if Chase has messed her up more than she’s letting on.
I glance back once more as we leave, just to get another look at James Dean, and feel myself flush with excited embarrassment when he looks right at me. Then he lifts a tiny cup of espresso to his mouth and takes a long sip.
FOUR
WE’RE DRIVING AGAIN when my phone beeps. I pull it out of my pocket to find a cryptic text from Andrew.
Help!
I suck in a sharp breath, then text back.
Don’t scare me. This better be something serious. Are you dying?
I wait a moment and my phone beeps again.
We’re in so much trouble
I feel my chest clench, like something heavy has been dropped there. My phone begins ringing, playing a tinny, canned version of “Eleanor Rigby.” I pick up even before the violins can start.
“What’s going on?”
“Is that Andrew?” Hannah mouths from the seat next to me.
“My parents found the condom,” Andrew says.
“What condom?” I’m caught off guard by his words. The car swerves, and Danielle reaches up to turn off the music.
“Chase and Danielle’s condom,” he says. “They found the wrapper on the nightstand next to the bed.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. “Seriously? They didn’t throw out the wrapper?”
Danielle swears softly from the front seat, and I can tell she’s caught on, even if she can’t hear Andrew’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Your mom’s gonna kill you,” I say.
“Yeah, and she’s gonna kill you too.”
“What did I do?”
“Your parents are here.”
I sigh, the weight on my chest increasing. “I didn’t have a party!”
“Yeah, but it was your birthday. Obviously you were here.”
“Fine,” I answer. “I’ll get dropped off.”
I hang up the phone and turn to Danielle. “You left the condom wrapper on the nightstand?” I can’t tell whether I’m angry or whether I want to laugh.
She purses her lips. “At least we used protection.”
Andrew’s house looks spotless. When we pull up to the front, it’s easy to forget that last night even happened at all, that we spent the morning lugging trash bags across the slushy ground.
“Tell Andrew I’m sorry,” Danielle says as I jump out of the car. “His parents won’t kill him?” She actually looks worried. I want to tell her Andrew will be fine. He’s used to getting into trouble. I’m the one she should be apologizing to. But she’s craning her head out the window and looking toward the house, and she doesn’t focus her worried gaze in my direction at all.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say