Just as the word is about to come out of my mouth—“Ethan,” which is a pretty word, don’t you think?—Gem comes barreling toward me.
“You stay away from my boyfriend, you skank,” she says, and gets right up into my face, my grill, which is an expression I’ve never once had an occasion to use until right now.
“Umm…,” I say. I wish I could go back in time and not drink those two drinks, because I’m having trouble understanding what’s going on. Why is Gem yelling at me? I’ve grown accustomed to her passive-aggressive under-the-breath taunts, which I can usually pretend I don’t hear. I can’t do that with her yelling into my mouth. And skank? Really? “What?”
I want to wipe her breath off of my face, a slathering of onion and alcohol. I want be far away from here, maybe tucked in bed. California is exhausting.
“Stay. The. Hell. Away. From. Liam,” Gem says, and then flicks her hair, like she’s in some mean-girl movie, and struts away. I take it back. She’s not a great actress. She lays it on too thick.
I look around to see if anyone saw, but it’s just me, Dri, and Agnes in our own little circle in the vast backyard.
“Holy crap, did that just happen?” Agnes asks, and starts to giggle.
“It’s not funny,” I say, though I wish it were. “What the hell?”
“Gem’s been all messed up since her dad got arrested last year. It was, like, all over the tabloids,” Agnes says. “I mean, she wasn’t that nice before, but since then she’s gone full-on raging bitch. I hear he could go to jail.”
“What did he get arrested for?” I ask, though I don’t really care. I hate her. No Wood Valley sob story is going to get sympathy from me.
“Her dad solicited a prostitute,” Dri says. “And there’s some sort of tax fraud thing.”
“Seriously?” I ask.
“Whatever,” Agnes says.
“Just tell me one thing?” Dri asks, and I can hear the plea in her voice. “Before, were you just about to say you liked Liam?”
“No, of course not,” I say, but I can’t tell if she believes me.
Me: I’m DRUNKY.
Scarlett: Me too.
Me: Having fun?
Scarlett: A BLAST.
Me: Yeah, me too.
Even through my drunken haze, I realize I’m lying. My hands are shaking. My teeth are chattering. I want to go home. No, home doesn’t really exist anymore. I lower my expectations. I want to go to bed.
—
I see Ethan only once more before we leave the party, on our way out the door. He is lying down on one of the lounge chairs, alone. I’m pretty sure he’s sleeping. Good, I think. He needs it. It takes all of my willpower not to brush the hair from his forehead.
CHAPTER 19
Me: Three Things: (1) I have a headache. (2) The room is spinning. (3) I’m never drinking again.
SN: (1) I intend to waste most of my day playing Xbox, with occasional breaks to eat pizza, preferably with eggplant, which I get a lot of shit for, but whatever. sue me. I don’t like pepperoni. never have, never will. (2) I was up early, so I’ve been listening to Flume all morning. (3) my mom is still sleeping, like she’s the teenager in the house.
Me: You’re American, right?
SN: yeah, why?
Me: PEPPERONI! Not liking pepperoni is like not liking apple pie.
SN: will that analogy be on the PSATs?
Me: So you ARE a junior?
SN: relax, Nancy Drew.
Me: I’m doing homework today. Calc is kicking my ass.
SN: and what a fine one it is.
Me: Shut up.
SN: was that objectifying? sorry.
Me: Have I mentioned lately that you’re a weirdo?
SN: I seem to recall you saying something like that.
Me: Later I have to work. Do you have a job?
SN: nah. my parents won’t let me. rather give me an allowance and have me focus on my schoolwork.
Me: How Wood Valley of them. I’m glad they’re supporting your Xbox habit.
SN: I know we’re all ridiculous to you, and I couldn’t agree more. where do you work?
Me: I’m not sure I want to tell you.
SN: ?
Me: Too stalkerish.
SN: yesterday you were begging to meet me, now telling me where you work is too stalkerish?
Me: I wasn’t begging.
SN: sorry. poor word choice. asking.
Me: Guess.
SN: where you work?
Me: Yeah.
SN: ok, but let me ask a few questions first. (1) do you like it? (2) do you come home dirty?