Slip

Lakeview Sports Complex was an exceptionally loud and uncomfortable place. The air smelled as if it was being filtered through a heaping pile of sweaty socks. Vivien sat on the hard, cold bleachers, sandwiched between Miranda and Lauren. Charlie lounged against her knees on the bench below. Clumps of parents and a smattering of Eastbrook students surrounded them. The field was large, bigger than she’d imagined, and she was having a difficult time following the action.

  “Damn!” Lauren shouted. “Nathan just creamed that other player.”

  She tried to locate him on the field. With their helmets on, they all looked alike. She gave up. “What number is Declan again?” she asked.

  “Twenty-four!” her friends responded in unison.

  “Right. I knew that.”

  “They’re good,” Miranda observed. “They’re killing the other team. Eastbrook’s going to be awesome this spring.”

  Killing. An appropriate choice of words, she reflected. It seemed as though the players took every opportunity to smash or trip each other with their sticks and the ref rarely ever called a penalty.

  Lauren grabbed Vivien’s arm and pointed. Number twenty-four flew down the field directly in front of the girls, passing the ball to a teammate who scored instantly. Whoops and hollers went up from the bleachers. Her pulse quickened as she watched Declan jog leisurely across the field. He looked so impressive. So strong and agile.

  She stood and stretched. Her butt was asleep and she needed to move.

  “Where’re you going?” Lauren asked.

  She inched along the bleacher step. “Bathroom. Where is it?”

  “We passed it on the way in. I’ll come with.”

  The ladies’ room was hardly what she’d call sanitary, the smell a sickening blend of nacho cheese from the concession stand next door and urine. She focused on breathing only through her mouth as she leaned over the sink to examine her face in the mirror. What was this? Leaning closer, she scowled as she observed the ominous beginnings of zit in the crease of her nose.

  Lauren spoke to her from the bathroom stall. “So, my parents are gone tomorrow night, remember? And I was thinking, you and Declan should come over and hang out. We could make dinner and stuff, the four of us. Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

  “You…and Nathan?” she said, thankful the stall hid her reaction. A Saturday night with Nathan—she could think of nothing worse. “Um…I’m pretty sure Declan has something going on tomorrow night.”

  Lauren appeared next to her in the mirror. “No, I talked to him earlier. He seemed fine with it.”

  Vivien turned away slightly and made a face. “Oh.”

  Lauren left to dry her hands, then returned. “How ’bout six o’clock?” She began to fuss over her hair. Tousled to her satisfaction, she reapplied a thick coating of pink sparkle gloss, pressing her lips together. “I’ll buy the stuff. I was thinking spaghetti—that’s like the only thing I know how to make. We can have that, and salad and garlic bread.” She gave Vivien an excited look. “Our own private dinner party!”

  “I know. Wow.”

  Lauren took a step closer to her, hunching down a bit, so Vivien felt obliged to do the same. “Guess what?”

  Oh no. Something told her she wasn’t going to want to hear this. “What?”

  “After the game tonight, Nathan and I are going over to Thomas’s. So we can be…alone.” Vivien pulled back slightly, but Lauren tilted forward, closing the gap once again. “There’s a hot tub on his back deck, you know.” She giggled.

  “Hmmm.”

  “He’s going to get a peek at my new bikini. I just got it yesterday. It makes my boobs look huge! ’Cause it’s, you know, the push-up kind.”

  As if Lauren needed help in that department. “That sounds great. For you guys. I guess…”

  “He’s in for some fun. And I’m so not getting wasted.”

  “No. You definitely shouldn’t,” she agreed. “With what…with…him being such a—”

  “What about you and Declan?”

  Vivien turned back to the mirror, avoiding her gaze. “What about us?”

  “You know. Is he good?”

  “At what?”

  Lauren came to stand next to her. With a roll of her eyes she replied, “At messing around, oh clueless one.”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t really…” Her voice trailed off as she didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t like she had a bunch of guys to compare him to.

  Lauren’s eager look evaporated. “Oh. I just figured…with all the girls he’s been with, he—” She caught the look on Vivien’s face and stopped midsentence. “Never mind.”

  Vivien’s cheeks blazed. “We should go back,” she said, spinning away.

  “Wait!” Lauren said, grabbing her arm. “Vivs, don’t. That was a stupid thing to say. It didn’t come out right. I’m sorry.”

  “Forget it.”

  “No. He’s totally into you.” She smiled warmly, squeezing her arm. “He is. I can tell.”

  “You can?” She looked her in the eye, wanting so much to believe, but unable to erase the pain of the awful truth. She should have known. Hadn’t Christophe warned her? He’d come right out and told her she didn’t belong. That she’d get hurt. People never change. How was she ever to prove him wrong?

 

  The game was nearly over by the time they returned. It was looking to be a true slaughter, with the Eastbrook Colts up seventeen to two. Charlie and Miranda had evidently lost interest completely as they were both texting madly, never once bothering to look up.

  “Hey. Look.” Lauren pointed to the next set of bleachers. “Isn’t that Monsieur Hottie?”

  Vivien followed her gesture and frowned. True enough. There he was.

  “What’s he doing here?” Charlie said.

  Vivien wondered the same. A small circle of girls surrounded him, talking animatedly and giggling. Jealousy nipped her without warning. Before she could look away, his face turned in her direction and their eyes locked. He seemed to be saying something, something meant only for her. But with all the commotion going on around her, she couldn’t concentrate.

  “Read his stance—he’s gonna jump the ball!” Her head snapped back to see a stocky blonde man on his feet, shouting angrily. The players on the field were set up for a faceoff. “WIN THE FACE, DAMMIT!” he hollered. The ref blew the whistle, a penalty against the other team. “That’s right. Way to go, Nate! Make him jump, get him off his game.”

  Lauran gave her a nudge. “Nathan’s dad.”

  Geez, what kind of parent taunted the other team when they were losing by fifteen goals? Looked like the apple did not fall far from the tree, she concluded.

  The game over, Charlie and Miranda headed home. It was Vivien’s plan to leave straight away as well. Even though it was a Friday night she had several chapters of her new French novel to tackle before going to bed. But Lauren was begging her to stay. She had her heart set on meeting the boys down by the locker rooms. After five solid minutes of whining and pleading, Vivien finally agreed.

  “Oh, crap,” Lauren mumbled, rummaging through her purse as they waited. “My phone’s not in here. It must have fallen out.” She grabbed Vivien’s arm in a hurried gesture. “Wait for me, OK? I gotta go back and check the bleachers.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t let Nathan go anywhere without me,” Lauren warned as she dashed off.

  Vivien shrugged noncommittally. She couldn’t care less about Nathan. She would only give him the slightest speck of consideration for Lauren’s benefit.

  But now that she was left standing all alone, she felt horribly conspicuous. Like a groupie waiting in breathless anticipation for the band to emerge.

  “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Allen,” came a voice from behind. Spinning, she saw Christophe making his way toward her from the main hallway.

  “Oh! Hi there.” She waited until he reached her. “I’m surprised to see you here. I never knew you were a fan of boys?
?? lacrosse.”

  “I could say the same for you,” he replied with a wry smile.

  She blushed and looked at her feet.

  “In any case, fan might be stretching it. But some of my students are on the team. I like to show my support.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  There was a stretch of silence before he spoke again. “So…is there any particular reason you’re standing here all alone?” he said.

  “Oh, I’m not alone,” she said quickly, then realized the foolishness of her statement. Shaking her head, she said, “I mean, yes, I am alone. For the moment. But I’m waiting for someone.”

  He waited for her to elaborate.

  “Not Declan, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She laughed weakly. “Lauren. I’m waiting for Lauren. And then we’re waiting for Declan. And Nathan. Both,” she explained.

  Christophe frowned slightly and she couldn’t help but sense his disapproval. Or was it disappointment? She seemed to be disappointing everybody lately.

  “It wasn’t my idea.” She laughed again, an odd choking sound. “Lauren wanted me to. Wait. Here.”

  Still, he said nothing.

  “She’s not here right now. Obviously, duh! She’s looking for her phone.”

  He nodded slowly as if attempting to follow the ramblings of a small child. And who could blame him? She sounded ridiculous. But her anxiousness compelled her to plunder ahead. “Do you know Lauren? Probably not. She has the other French teacher. She’s kind of seeing Nathan. You know, Nathan Dorsette? He’s on the team. I’m sure you saw him. Anyway, he and Declan are friends. They’ve known each other since forever.” She checked over her shoulder. “I don’t know what could be keeping Lauren. She went to look for her phone. She must have dropped it or something.”

  “So you’ve said,” he said at last.

  Another silence ensued.

  “Actually, we’re going to make dinner at her house. Tomorrow,” she volunteered out of the blue. “A double date, sort of.” She was like a wind-up toy; apparently she wasn’t going to rest until the crank ground to a stop.

  She waited for him to say something but he just watched her, head nodding imperceptibly. “You’re probably thinking—,” she began.

  But all at once, a loud ruckus spilled out into the hallway. Nathan led the way, his cocky stride immediately identifiable, followed seconds later by Declan. When the boys saw Vivien and Christophe, they came to an abrupt halt and a meaningful look passed between the two.

  Farther down the hallway a small group of players exited the visitor’s locker room and began walking in their direction. Their conversation died down as they passed the Eastbrook players and one of the boys, a tall, gangly-looking redhead, turned to Nathan in midstride. “Must be nice to have the ref in your daddy’s pocket, Dorsette.”

  Nathan considered the group for a moment before taking a small step forward. “Nice of you to pay your respects, ladies,” he said with a smile. To the boy he said, “Suck my dick, Ginger.”

  The redhead flinched and came to a sudden stop. The hallway was completely silent. Then, in the next instant, the boy grabbed Nathan by the shirt collar and shoved him against the wall. Immediate chaos broke out as Nathan regained his balance and swung a punch, connecting soundly at the boy’s chin. He staggered but rebounded quickly, snaking an arm around Nathan’s neck and forcing him to the floor. The two figures wrestled furiously, grunting and flailing as Declan and the other players closed in, attempting to pry them apart.

  Vivien watched in dismay, unable to move, grimacing each time a punch was thrown. It was M. Laval who speedily stepped in and removed her to a safer distance.

  After what seemed like forever, the boy’s teammates secured a firm grip on his arms and with a vigorous heave yanked him back, away from Nathan. Declan managed to restrain Nathan at the same time and the two adversaries stood breathing heavily, glaring at each other as if looks could kill.

  “Let it go, dude,” one of the players said. “He’s an asshole.”

  The boy shrugged them off forcefully and brought his hand up to his chin, exploring the area for damage. His fingers came away with blood and he muttered several words under his breath. With one final glare, the group moved off, leaving the Eastbrook students in a temporary stupor.

  Nathan was the first to recover. Wrenching himself away from Declan, he wiped his bloody nose on a sleeve, then paused to study a spot on his left hand where his knuckle had split. Finally he looked up and declared, “What the fuck?”

  Vivien made a faint squeak, causing Nathan to look in her direction. “Pardon my French,” he said, his eyes flashing at the French teacher.

  M. Laval regarded him in silence. “Your behavior’s not the least bit amusing,” he said at last.

  Ignoring this comment completely, Nathan advanced toward the pair. “Well, whaddya know? The two of you together again. How special.” His eyes widened in mock delight. “Hey, Chris, awesome you could make it. I’d love to get your take on the game.”

  Vivien sucked in a breath, her jaw dropping in disbelief.

  “Lighten up, Vivs.” Nathan chuckled. “I’m just messin’ with ya.”

  At a loss for words, she glanced uncertainly at M. Laval.

  “Don’t push your luck,” Christophe said with a threatening look. “You’ve already succeeded in making a fool of yourself.”

  Vivien glanced over at Declan to see how he was taking the situation. He, however, was too busy glaring at the French teacher to notice.

  “In the future, Mr. Dorsette,” M. Laval continued, “perhaps you can make an effort to refrain from the trash talk and maintain a level of composure that better represents the integrity and dedication of your teammates.”

  Nathan snorted and looked away.

  “I’m so sorry,” M. Laval said, turning to Vivien and touching her lightly on the small of her back. His hand lingered there as he went on. “I must run. You’ll be all right?” His eyes darted in Declan’s direction.

  Vivien frowned faintly but nodded. “Of course. I’m fine.”

  “All right, then.” He pulled away from her to address the boys. “Please give Thomas my congratulations on a game well played,” he said coldly. And with that, he moved off.

 

  Christophe was barely out of earshot before Nathan proclaimed, “That dude is seriously full of shit.”

  Declan exploded, “Enough already!” He ran his fingers through his hair and whistled a sigh of exasperation. “I don’t know, but you probably shouldn’t have mentioned your dick in front of the guy.”

  “Whatever. I wasn’t talking to him anyway,” Nathan grumbled.

  “I found it!” The three students snapped out of the frosty exchange to see Lauren half walking, half skipping toward them, waving her electric-blue phone in the air. She came to sudden stop when she saw Nathan’s face.

  “What the heck happened?” she exclaimed. “What’d I miss?”

  Seventeen

 

  Pearls of wisdom by Ms. Hove:

  Commercials, movies, and TV shows often make drinking alcohol seem like a whole lot of fun. Teens run the risk of getting caught up in this questionable portrayal. Wanting to fit in, they think drinking will make them look more mature. Yet more often than not, the negative consequences of drinking are ignored. Alcohol poisoning, severe vomiting, and hangovers are frequently the results of binge drinking and (as I’m certain some of you know) are far from pleasant! Before you take that first sip, ask yourself: is it really worth it?

  Going to Lauren’s house always filled Vivien with mixed emotions. Countless good times had taken place here—sleepovers, birthday parties, movie marathons, and warm summer nights playing kick the can in the backyard. Yet at the same time it reminded her of her past, when her family had been whole, not broken to pieces. Her old house was in this neighborhood, a mere three blocks away.

  Tonight, however, as she and Declan made their way over, a new and more pressing worry
hung over her. And his name was Nathan Dorsette.

  “Any word on the Lauren situation?” she began cautiously. “I mean, has Nathan said anything more to you?”

  Declan stared straight ahead, concentrating on the holiday traffic around the mall. “No, not that I can think of,” he said after they’d cleared the main entrance. “Why’re you so interested?”

  “I’m not so interested. It’s just…I told you already. I don’t want Lauren to get hurt.”

  He gave her reply some thought. “Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe he does like her?”

  “He said that?”

  “Vivien…” He gripped the wheel more tightly. “I just told you he hasn’t said anything. OK?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Leave it alone,” he said after a moment. “She’s a big girl and she’s gonna do what she wants. It’s really none of our business, anyway.”

  She turned and looked out the window, allowing him the last word for the moment. But she soon found it impossible to hold her tongue. “That’s fine for you. But I don’t feel that way. I feel like, if I know something—something important—I should tell her. Isn’t that what friends do?”

  He gave her a curious look. “But you don’t. You don’t know anything.”

  She turned to the window again. “I guess not,” she said quietly.

  “You guess not?”

  She shook her head. “Forget it.”

  He frowned. “What’s the ‘it’ I’m supposed to forget?”

  “Nothing. All I meant was Nathan’s got a bad reputation. A reputation that he created.” She paused. “He’s totally obnoxious in every way. You saw him last night after the game.” She still could hardly believe he’d behaved that way in front of Christophe.

  As if reading her mind, Declan said, “What’s the deal with you and what’s-his-face anyway?”

  She spun to face him, then quickly looked away. “M. Laval? What do you mean?”

  Declan shrugged and took his time putting his thoughts into words. “You act different when you’re around him. Like you’re trying to please him. Like what he thinks of you matters so much. I don’t understand it…” He shrugged again. “You’re not yourself.”

  What was this? How had he come up with such a ridiculous observation?

  “And he seems way too interested in you,” he continued. “In a way that’s…I don’t know…not right.”

  More outrageousness. She didn’t want to hear any more. “That’s crazy! He’s my teacher. I’m in his class.”

  “Yeah. I’m aware of that, thanks.”

  She laughed nervously. “He flirts. So what? All the girls have a serious crush on him. That’s just the way he is.” Declan looked unconvinced and her sense of discomfort increased. “It’s not my fault you don’t like him.”

  He gave her a strange look. “What are you getting so defensive for?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You sure sound like it.”

  She took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Fine.”

  Silence.

  “What I was trying to say before,” she said at last, “before we got so off-topic, was…” How could she tell him what happened at Riley’s, without really telling him?

  “What?”

  She began to fidget. “This is hard for me to say.”

  He turned to her, his face anxious. “Just come out with it.”

  “That night at Riley’s…I think Nathan had sex with Lauren while she was drunk. Like passed-out drunk, if you know what I mean.”

  Declan frowned. “What are you talking about? Who told you that?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Then how do you know it’s true?”

  “No. I mean…not nobody. Lauren. Lauren told me.”

  “Lauren told you…” he stopped, clearly having trouble finishing his sentence, “that Nathan—what? Raped her? ’Cause having sex with someone who’s unconscious, I think that’s considered rape, right?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “No. No way. He’s been with a lot of girls but he would never…that’s just sick.”

  “No, listen,” she backtracked, immediately regretting she’d said anything. “She didn’t say that. She never used that…word. She just said… she wasn’t sure what happened.”

  “Well, what the hell? Was she upset? Did she tell anyone else? Aren’t you supposed to go to the hospital or something?”

  “No! She didn’t…she didn’t even care!”

  “Why are you screaming at me?”

  “I’m not!” She pressed the back of her hand against trembling lips. “Just forget it!”

  He began to shake his head, a look of disbelief on his face. “Sometimes I don’t get you at all. You come at me totally out of left field—making an incredibly serious accusation, may I add—and then you…you follow it up with ‘just forget it.’” He met her eyes, his look pained. “I can’t—I can’t just…I need some time to digest this. You can’t throw something like this at me. What…what do you want me to do?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know!” she croaked.

  The Volvo swung into Lauren’s driveway and came to a sudden halt. Declan killed the motor and stared at her, his expression tight.

  Vivien was miserable. “Declan, I’m sorry! I never should have said anything.” She sniffled. “I…I wanted you to know…why I don’t like Nathan. Why I can’t stand him.”

  He let out an immense sigh, laying his head back on the seat. After a minute he said, “I’ve known him since I was four…”

  “I know. You guys are friends. I don’t want to ruin everything. Please just—this conversation never has to leave this car.” She tried to collect herself. “Maybe I got it all wrong. It was dark…”

  He stared at her for some time without speaking. Then his expression changed. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  She exhaled shakily and forced herself to smile. “I’m just babbling. I’m all mixed up. Come on, let’s go in. Aren’t you…like, ready for awesomeness?” she asked, imitating Lauren’s voice.

  He didn’t crack a smile, just sat there. Not looking at her. At last he opened the car door. “Right. Awesomeness, here we come.”

  Waltzing into Lauren’s massive kitchen brandishing a liter of diet soda and a half-gallon of butter pecan ice cream, Vivien did her best to look cheerful. Sparky, Lauren’s small white mop of a dog, ran circles around the new guests, yipping and growling as if he might tear them to pieces. He kept darting in and out of her legs, and it was all she could do to avoid tripping.

  “Should I put this in the freezer?” she shouted over the barking dog.

  Lauren nodded, shooting Sparky an irritated look. “Sparky!” she shouted, “shut up!” The dog sneezed twice and trotted out of the room.

  Stationed before the stove, Lauren hovered over a giant pot of spaghetti sauce. The sauce bubbled ferociously, shooting deep red projectiles over the stovetop and tiles.

  “Damn!” Lauren exclaimed, jumping backward. “I’m totally going to ruin this shirt. I need, like, a…cooking apron.” She broke into a string of giggles.

  “Lower the heat and cover it,” Vivien said, poised before the freezer as she searched for a place to put the ice cream. “Why do you have so much food in here?”

  “Huh?” Lauren came to stand beside her. “Oh, it’s always like that. My mom has a nesting problem. She has to have three or four of everything or she freaks.”

  With effort, they managed to cram it in along the side. Vivien turned and glanced around the kitchen. Declan and Nathan appeared to have wandered off, so she took advantage of this private moment to test the waters. “So…you and Nathan…you’re good?”

  Lauren grabbed her arm. “Are you kidding? You and Declan so should’ve come to Thomas’s last night. It was awesome.”

  Vivien smiled politely and walked over to stir the sauce. She noticed a layer of burnt tomatoes already glued to the bottom of the pot. “Yeah.
I’ll bet.” She paused a moment, then asked, “Nathan didn’t, like, say anything about me…did he?”

  “About yesterday? The fight and everything?” Lauren didn’t wait for a reply. “No one pushes him around, you know? And anyway, those guys totally provoked him. They’re just a bunch of losers who can’t handle the fact that they suck.”

  Vivien replaced the lid on the pot and leaned back against the counter, saying nothing.

  “I’m so excited you guys are here!” Lauren said, clapping her hands like little girl.

  “Yeah. Declan...couldn’t wait to come in.”

  “We just opened a bottle of wine. It’s over there.” Lauren pointed to a minibar at the far end of the kitchen. “Want some?” Vivien shrugged. “Red wine goes with pasta. That’s what all the Europeans do,” Lauren told her.

  “Do they?” she said, her thoughts swirling to Christophe. “I’m not really into drinking, though.”

  “It’s only wine,” Lauren replied. “I’m pretty sure you can drink a ton without even getting drunk. The French serve wine to their kids at dinner like every night—that’s what Madame told us.” She frowned. “It’s nothing like that stuff I had at Riley’s. Have half a glass,” she urged, walking to the counter and pouring some. “Sip while you eat.” She stood before Vivien, pressing the glass toward her. “At least carry it around; it makes you look totally sophisticated.”

  She took the glass and gave it a quick sniff.

  “That bottle cost like a hundred bucks, you know. My parents drink it like water.”

  She took a tiny sip. “I wouldn’t know good wine from a glass of Welch’s grape juice.” She tried to recall everything Christophe had taught her but came up empty. Something about a village…?

  Lauren laughed and poured herself a full glass. She held it up. “Cheers! A toast to hot guys!” She squealed and giggled some more.

  Vivien clinked glasses and took another, larger sip. “Hot guys, right.”

  Lauren linked Vivien’s arm in hers and they carried their wine into the entertainment room, where they found the aforementioned hot guys lounging on the sofa, watching football on a flat-screen TV that covered nearly the entire wall.

  “Oh, please,” Lauren said, “turn that off. We are so not watching sports.”

  “Mute it,” Nathan said, sparing hardly a glance in her direction. “This game’s crucial. I gotta keep up with the scores.”

  “Whatever,” Lauren said, settling down next to him. Her eyes swept the room with a look of contentment. “This is awesome. Let’s have a conversation. What should we talk about?”

  Vivien took a seat near Declan, placing her wine on the coffee table. He followed her movements with interest.

  “I, for one,” Nathan announced, “would like to discuss if Mrs. Schaffer got a boob job. Her tits look spectacular lately, don’t you think?”

  Lauren slapped his hand. “We are not discussing the vice principal’s breasts, Nathan.”

  “Why not? She’s not that old. Forty-something?” He searched the other faces for agreement. “She’s a MILF; I’d do her in a second. That desk in her office is calling my name.”

  Vivien tried to catch Declan’s eye in order to give him a “see what I mean?” look, but he was focused on the game, doing his best to stifle a grin.

  “Moving on,” Lauren said. “Vivs, what about you?”

  “Me?” She reached for her wine and took another sip. A warm rush spread through her veins.

  “No Eastbrook,” Lauren said bossily. “Too boring. Although I suppose if Nathan wants to do the vice principal, it’s fair game for us girls to discuss M. Hottie.” She grinned. “’Cause he’s the sexiest teacher ever. Right, Vivs?”

  She felt all eyes turn to her. She suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. She blinked several times, did a half-shrug, and took a giant gulp of wine.

  “The dude’s a freak,” Nathan answered for her. “You chicks are just fooled by the metrosexual vibe he’s puttin’ out with his pretty-boy clothes and his gay accent. He’s a fucking dick.”

  Declan fidgeted beside her. The room was suddenly silent.

  A timer buzzed and Lauren jumped to her feet. “Water’s boiling. Dinner should be ready in twelve minutes,” she announced, hurrying off to the kitchen.

  As soon as Lauren was out of sight, Nathan cranked up the volume on the TV and became immediately engrossed in the game. Declan grabbed a Sports Illustrated magazine from the coffee table and began flipping through the pages, avoiding looking at her.

  With nothing else to do, she stood and mumbled something about helping with dinner despite the fact that no one was paying her any attention. As she grabbed her glass and headed toward the kitchen, she was shocked to see that the glass was now empty.

  Half a glass of wine; she’d finished it in a matter of minutes. And the glasses, she suddenly noticed, were huge. Oh well. So what? No big deal. Maybe she did feel a little funny. She was well aware you weren’t supposed to drink alcohol on an empty stomach—Ms. Hove had made that point crystal clear. But she was nowhere near drunk. She didn’t drink.

  “What do you need me to do?” she asked Lauren as she entered the kitchen.

  “Bring those pasta bowls over,” Lauren answered, pointing to one of the glass cupboards. “I think I’ll serve it in here, then bring them out. The bread and salad are already on the table.”

  Once Vivien had done as she was told, she leaned against the kitchen island and sighed. Lauren glanced up at her. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Vivien smiled. “That wine was good. I feel…good.”

  “Have some more,” Lauren said as she slopped piles of noodles into the bowls. “You deserve it. My parents have a ton in the cellar anyway.”

  “No. No more for me.” She sighed again. “So…is Nathan like…sleeping over?”

  Lauren just smiled.

  “Where will you guys…sleep?” Vivien wanted to know. As if any sleeping were actually going to take place.

  “My parents’ room. They have a king,” Lauren answered. “And a giant walk-in shower,” she added with a wink.

  “Oh!” Vivien cried, popping her hand over her mouth. The sudden image of the two of them naked, chasing each other around the bed and into a hot, steaming shower invaded her head. All at once she began to giggle.

  “DINNER!” Lauren shouted in the direction of the entertainment room, as if she was calling to her brood of small children. When she received no reply, she scowled. “Did they turn the game back on?” With a determined face, Lauren marched off in a surprisingly matronly fashion.

  The two couples sat opposite each other at a very long and very elegant black lacquer dining room table. The tabletop dazzled with a graceful wave design etched in gold, flowing the length of the glass top. A matching black buffet sideboard and two contemporary china cabinets completed the modern look of the room.

  Bread and salad were passed around the table. The dinner party then sat erect and motionless for a moment as they contemplated the meal before them, their expressions tight, as if—now that they found themselves in an adult situation—they felt compelled to assume their perceived roles of this foreign species.

  “Wait!” Lauren said, breaking the spell. She hopped out of her chair and dashed into the kitchen. She returned with a newly opened bottle of wine and commenced to refill Vivien’s glass—alarmingly close to the top—followed by Nathan’s and then her own. She glanced questioningly at Declan, but he held his hand over his wine glass and pointed to the bottle of soda.

  “I’m good,” he said.

  Lauren lit several candles, saying, “Everybody dig in.”

  Vivien began twirling the long strands of pasta around her fork, but they kept slipping off and she was unable to take a bite for fear of slopping it all over her face. She decided to tackle the salad instead.

  “This isn’t too awful,” Nathan volunteered.

  “Thanks,” Lauren replied. “I managed the whole thing by myself, since all you did was sit
around and watch football all afternoon.” She nudged him with her elbow.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t do kitchen duty. And this whole ‘make dinner’ thing was your idea. I would’ve been happy with foot-long subs and a six-pack.”

  “This is so much better, though. Don’t you think?” Lauren said.

  “So, um, do you cook a lot?” Declan asked.

  “No, not really,” Lauren said. “This is about as complicated as I can handle. What about you? I heard your mom’s awesome.”

  Vivien nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, she’s incredible! I had the best dinner there.”

  Declan smiled. “Yeah, she’s good. But I try to stay out of the kitchen if I can.”

  With that topic apparently exhausted, a silence descended upon the table. Forks scraped against plates as they struggled to harpoon evasive chunks of noodles and sauce.

  “Dude, have you seen Thomas’s new ride yet?” Nathan said after a few minutes.

  “What?” Declan let his fork fall to the plate. “No way! He got the Mustang GT? I thought that was gonna be for graduation.” He shook his head slowly in wonder.

  “He was cruising around the neighborhood last night,” Nathan told him. “It’s sick!”

  “Yeah,” Lauren chimed in, “he thought he was such a badass. He had the top down and everything. Even though it was freezing.”

  “What about you and your little Range Rover?” Nathan said to her. “As if you’re not trying to get noticed when you take that motherfucker to school.”

  “I can’t believe he got it,” Declan said, to no one in particular.

  Vivien took a sip of wine. She felt a bit excluded from the conversation. For starters, she didn’t have her license yet. And secondly, she didn’t have (and would not be getting) her very own car.

  “Uh, Lauren?” Nathan said, frowning as he extracted a dense white chunk from his mouth and held it up for all to see. “Are you sure you cooked this long enough? I think I just broke my fucking tooth.”

  “What’re you talking about?” She leaned over for a closer look. “What is that?” She giggled.

  “You know you have to stir the spaghetti as it cooks, right?” Nathan said.

  “I stirred it. At least once. Just eat it; it’s fine.”

  “Yeah,” Declan said, “just eat it, you big baby. Lauren slaved over the hot stove making that for you.”

  “Kiss my ass,” Nathan said, pushing his plate away and grabbing another hunk of bread, which he shoveled into his mouth all at once.

  “Mine seems fine,” Vivien said to Lauren, even though she hadn’t touched it.

  “Whatever,” Lauren replied. “At least I tried.” She studied Vivien for a moment before bursting into a grin. “You’re red as a tomato, Vivs. You’re not getting drunk, are you?”

  “Huh?” Vivien’s hands flew up to her face in an attempt to feel the color. “No.”

  “Vivien’s buzzed!” Lauren announced to the table.

  “Lauren!”

  “Well, all right,” Nathan said. “Let the fun begin.”

  Declan turned to her. “Are you really?”

  “I don’t see how. I barely had any.” She checked her glass. The level had mysteriously dropped again. She let out a loud hiccup.

  “Guys! I have the best idea!” Lauren exclaimed suddenly. The table looked up expectantly. “Let’s play Truth or Dare.”

  “What?” Nathan said.

  “Yeah, come on! It’ll be so much fun!” Lauren leapt out of her seat and once again disappeared. In a few seconds she returned, waving a notebook in the air. “I’ve got a bunch of awesome questions and stuff. I got them from the internet.” She gave Nathan a look. “We can make it naughty if you want.”

  Nathan deliberated for half a second. “Fine.”

  Without bothering to get anyone else’s opinion, she declared, “I’ll go first.” Lauren handed Nathan the notebook. “Ask me what kind of question I want.”

  Nathan thumbed through the pages. “Yeah, yeah. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” she answered, the excitement visible on her face.

  “Let’s see…” Nathan paused to scan the choices. “This should be a good one: what was the most embarrassing moment of your life?”

  “Oh!” Lauren squealed. “Wait! I gotta think.”

  Vivien shot an uncertain glance in Declan’s direction. This game had all sorts of unpleasant possibilities. She’d played it before at slumber parties. With a bunch of girls only. Mixed company changed things immensely.

  Declan responded with an exaggerated shrug, as if the current proceedings were out of his hands.

  “I think it’s a tie between two painful memories,” Lauren began. “One was when I made this homemade valentine—with those big heart doilies?—for a certain boy I had a crush on in fifth grade.” She looked over at Vivien. “Zach Goldman?”

  Vivien acknowledged this with a nod.

  “He was the hottest guy in our grade,” Lauren explained. “Anyway, like I said, I made him a valentine, but I wrote, ‘Will you be my valentime?’, ’cause for my whole life, I always thought it was Valentime’s Day. T-I-M-E-S,” she said for emphasis. “I saw him showing it to his friends and laughing. It was humiliating!”

  Nathan patted her on the shoulder. “Aw, so sad.”

  Lauren brushed him off. “The second traumatic event,” she continued, more loudly than before, “had to be when I got my period in school and it leaked all over my skirt. I didn’t notice and nobody told me until the end of the day. I wanted to die.” She shot Vivien a look. “Remember that?”

  Vivien nodded once more. The room jiggled slightly.

  “Gross. Lauren perioded all over herself,” Nathan said with a grin. “Who’s next? Vivs? Ladies first.”

  Without the warm-up cocktail, Vivien would have been completely horrified. But the two glasses of red wine had done their trick, and at the moment she felt loose and uninhibited. What was the big deal about sharing your deepest, darkest secrets among friends (and so-called friends)? she mused illogically. Nothing that bad could happen. “Go ahead,” she told him.

  “Truth…or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  “Interesting,” Nathan replied. “Are you sure that’s the best choice, Vivs?”

  She straightened in her chair. “Wait. Um, I changed my mind. I’ll take a dare.”

  “Tsk, tsk.” Nathan shook his head. “I think the rules are you can’t change your mind.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, so here we go.” He paused and looked around the table, milking the moment for all it was worth. Vivien gripped her thighs until she was sure she had punctured her jeans. He wouldn’t dare break their agreement. Not here. Would he?

  “Has anyone ever seen you completely naked?” she heard him say. “And if so, who?”

  She sagged visibly with relief. “No,” she said quickly.

  Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

  “Fuck off, dude,” Declan said.

  “Give me that now,” Lauren said, grabbing the notebook. “Here.” She passed it across to Vivien. “You do it. Our turn to ask the gentlemen.”

  She opened the notebook. “Nathan. Truth or dare?”

  “I’m gonna go with truth, since that’s how it’s been playing out so far.”

  She contemplated the choices slowly. “Have you ever…kissed someone of the same sex? And I’m not talking about family.”

  “Easy,” he answered. “No. Fucking. Way.”

  Vivien was annoyed. She wanted to fluster him, make him look like an idiot, but that seemed unlikely to happen. He always managed to breeze through everything.

  “Declan?” she asked, turning to face him.

  “Truth,” he said, pushing a charred glob of sauce around the plate with his fork.

  “What’s the one thing you’ve done that you never, ever want to get caught doing?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Why’d I get the hardest one so far?”

  Na
than grinned. “Gotta answer, dude.”

  “Hmmm. I guess, one time when I was about eight or nine, I stole something from a drugstore near my house. Nothing major, it was this Matchbox car I really wanted. I didn’t have any money with me. Anyway, I got away with it. But I wouldn’t want to get caught stealing. At this point in my life.”

  “Good answer,” Vivien said. “I’m delighted to know that you’re a thief.” She patted him playfully.

  “Was a thief,” he corrected.

  She held the notebook out for Lauren, but Nathan snatched it out her hands. “Next round. Juicier stuff, people. Please. I’m falling asleep here.”

  “I’ll take a dare, then,” Lauren said.

  “Excellent.” He quickly scanned the choices. “How’s this: exchange an item of clothing with the person sitting next to you.” He looked her up and down. “And no socks!”

  “No socks? It doesn’t say that!”

  “It does.” Nathan smiled. “In the fine print.”

  “OK, wiseass,” Lauren said. “We’ll exchange shirts.” In the next instant, she’d pulled her skin-tight tee overhead, dropping it into his lap. Underneath she wore a red mesh bra that was completely transparent. “Hurry up! I’m cold.”

  “I see that,” Nathan said, zeroing in on her breasts. “You’ve got your high beams on.” He proceeded to take his time disrobing, pulling one arm out, then the other, at an exaggeratedly slow pace. At last he took the shirt, balled it up, and launched it across the room. “Oops. My bad.”

  Lauren laughed and gave him a shove. “Very funny, you little shit!”

  Vivien’s face was frozen, her mouth gaping open as she watched this entertaining little performance. Glancing sideways at Declan, she tried to determine if he too was enjoying the view of Lauren’s taut nipples. She couldn’t say for sure, but he was definitely looking.

  Lauren stood, stomped off, and retrieved Nathan’s shirt, slipping it on as she returned to her chair.

  “That was awesome,” Nathan said, still shirtless.

  “Aren’t you going to put mine on?” she asked.

  He held it up to his chest. “This li’l ol’ thang’s not gonna fit me.” He wrinkled his nose. “Plus it’s pink.”

  “Just stay like that, then,” she told him. “I like it.”

  With all the drama he could muster, Nathan shifted his wicked gaze to Vivien. “Who’s next?”

  The wine was not enough to make her quite so bold now.

  “How ’bout a dare, like your BFF, Lauren?”

  She swallowed, then tried for an air of confidence. “Whatever.” She eased back in her chair and waited.

  “Since it appears that you’re fascinated by intimate acts with the same sex,” he began, “your task is to kiss someone. In this room. Of the same sex.” His voice was perfectly level.

  “What?” she cried, once the meaning of his request had sunk in.

  “On the lips,” he added. “More fine print.” He tapped the notebook as proof.

  She spun around to look at Declan. His expression was unreadable.

  “Nothing to deliberate, Vivs. There’s only one other girl here,” Nathan announced, and he tipped his head in Lauren’s direction—in case it wasn’t clear.

  Now Vivien turned to Lauren, who simply smiled and shrugged.

  Vivien’s head was buzzing. What was happening here? Lauren and Declan were just going to sit by and let Nathan do this to her? She was appalled, but then, it could have been worse. A true disaster. And suddenly, one measly kiss didn’t seem so bad.

  Nathan kept up his barrage. “I’d like to put in a request for tongue. That would be a nice touch.”

  She saw Declan tense out of the corner of her eye. Whatever. She stood, wobbly but determined. She wasn’t about to let Nathan intimidate her. She’d show them all she was no chicken. No baby. She was like them; Christophe was wrong. Her boring geek days were over. “Nathan,” she said, slurring his name. “Pay attention and take notes on my technique. It just so happens I know what she likes.”

  “Ooh, dude!” Nathan cackled at Declan. “Your chick’s twisted!”

  She couldn’t face Declan. What was he thinking right now? Around the table she went as Lauren rose to meet her. Without hesitating, Vivien reached out and laid her arms seductively around Lauren’s neck. They looked into each other’s eyes. Both smiled as if it were just the two of them in the room and they were playacting like they’d done millions of times as kids.

  “Ready?” Vivien whispered.

  Lauren nodded, closing her eyes.

  Vivien leaned in, her lips touching Lauren’s with delicacy. Her eyes closed automatically. The sensation was pleasantly different, Lauren’s mouth velvety and small. This must be what it feels like for Declan to kiss her own lips, she found herself thinking. It was…nice.

  They stayed molded together for longer than she’d planned. Nathan’s request for tongue echoing in her ears caused her to press against Lauren with increasing fervor. At last, for a show-stopping finale, she pulled back and trailed her tongue along Lauren’s upper lip, her eyes glued to Nathan the entire time.

  The earsplitting sound of a whistle startled her out of her erotic trance and she backed away, slightly horrified, her face ablaze.

  “What the hell!” Nathan boomed, slamming his fist down on the table. “What kind of crazy headfuck was that?”

  She rushed back to her chair, eyes trained on the floor. When the fire on her cheeks had subsided somewhat, she cast an uncertain glance in Declan’s direction. He was staring at her with an incredulous look on his face. If Thomas had appeared out of the blue and presented him with the keys to his Mustang, he could not have looked more stunned.

  She looked away in an attempt to hide her smile.

  Nathan rose to his feet and cleared his throat as if preparing to deliver an important announcement. “I’m gonna go ahead and say that girl-on-girl teaser will be hard to top. Therefore I vote this meeting adjourned.” Stretching his arms overhead, he yawned and rubbed his bare chest. “Time to check the scores.” With that, he stalked off in the direction of the TV.

  Lauren grabbed her wine from the table and excused herself. “You guys can hang out for as long as you want. Make yourselves at home,” she said, then hurried off after Nathan.

  The room seemed deafeningly silent with the loss of the other couple. As Vivien and Declan sat wordlessly, she couldn’t help but feel she’d somehow won, beating loudmouth Nathan at his own stupid game, and she began nodding in affirmation of her new status. Forgotten was the moment only a short while ago when he’d managed to embarrass her and send Declan into a brooding silence with a few curt remarks. No, he’d think twice before messing with her now, she was sure of it.

  “Hey,” Declan said at last. “Are you feeling OK?” His voice was a mix of awe and bewilderment.

  The question suddenly struck her as hilarious and she struggled against the impulse to howl with laughter. Her life seemed impossibly good, her prospects glowing brighter than the sun. She felt invincible, wild, carefree! She was on top of the world, the front car in a rollercoaster about to make the death-defying plunge. And she wasn’t even afraid! The objects in the room jumped around in agreement. Grasping the table edge to steady herself, she exclaimed, “I feel great!” Then she frowned, confused by the question. “Why?”

  “You’re not acting like any Vivien I know.”

  She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, crumpling slightly.

  “Come on,” she heard him say. In an instant his arm was around her waist as he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go sit down somewhere else. You’re drunk.”

  She leaned into him heavily as he led her through a maze of rooms, ending up in a spacious sitting room toward the back of the house. A cream-colored leather sofa, shaped in a horseshoe, faced an expansive wall of windows overlooking scores of slender birches that shimmered in the moonlight.

  Vivien sank down into the smooth, plush cushions, her bones no longer solid
but a bowl full of Jell-O. After a minute or so of lying still, she sat up again. “The room is spinning,” she announced. She tried to focus on the view of the woods, but all that glass made her feel like she was sitting in the middle of a fishbowl. Exposed. The more she thought about it, the more vulnerable she felt. Why didn’t they have any shades? Someone could be watching them. Grabbing a sofa pillow, she attempted to hide behind it.

  Declan was standing with his back to her, unaware of her bizarre theatrics as he gazed out the window. Then he turned to face her. “Exactly how much wine did you have?”

  Her reply came muffled from behind the cushion. “I don’t know. Two glasses? Is that a lot?”

  Declan walked over and yanked the pillow aside, tossing it onto the floor with just the slightest hint of frustration. “For you? Yes. And all you ate was a few scraps of lettuce.”

  “Spaghetti is hard to eat in a ladylike manner.”

  He let out a lengthy sigh, as if she was a child sorely testing his patience, and sat down beside her.

  Studying his face, she remembered hazily that they’d had a sort of fight earlier and she wondered if he was still sore. But staying focused on one idea was hopeless. An infinite number of thoughts were flitting through her mind, racing at such a speed as to be impossible to catch. “How come you never had a dare?” she asked suddenly.

  He studied her silently. “And what would you have picked for me?”

  “Hmmm,” she said, “I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to read any of the choices.”

  “No, I don’t want something written down by someone else. I want to know what you personally would’ve chosen.”

  “Me? You want my dare, huh?” she giggled. He looked so yummy. She wanted to be touching him. Twisting, she climbed clumsily onto his lap and rested her arms around his neck. Yes, she was aware of a weirdness in her body, as though the buzzing in her ears was gradually creeping down her neck and shoulders, into her arms, all the way to her fingertips. She closed her eyes, breathed in his smell, and said exactly what she was thinking. “I dare you to fall madly in love with me.” Her eyes remained closed, and over the continuous buzzing she could hear the sound of her heartbeat thumping away inside her chest. All at once a woozy feeling came over her and she began to list off to the side.

  Declan placed his hands gently around her ribcage and righted her. She opened her eyes.

  “What kind of dare is that?” he said. “A dare is like a challenge, right? It implies that either you think the person is too much of a pussy to take it on, or you’re pretty sure they’ll accept and you’re gonna get to laugh your ass off while they do something monumentally stupid.” He watched her to see if she was following. “Neither one of those situations apply when it comes to you.”

  She couldn’t believe he’d actually taken her babbling nonsense seriously. But he had. And now he was telling her something important. Something incredible that, unfortunately, at this precise moment, her brain refused to process. All she could do was wish that she wasn’t so crazy dizzy.

  In a sluggish attempt to reciprocate his honesty, she grasped at something to say. But her mind rebelled as it wandered the zigzagging, crisscrossing circuitry of her brain. Swiftly it slipped off onto a tangent and stuck there. “You’re not a virgin,” she slurred. Not a question, yet not a statement either.

  “What?”

  Yes—what? What had she just asked him, point blank?

  He studied her face, evidently trying to determine if her question was worthy of a response. Deciding it was, he angled his face away. “No.”

  Her reaction startled even herself. “Hah!” she barked, the force of expelled air bouncing her vertically off his lap an inch or two. “I knew it!”

  He flinched.

  “How many?” she demanded with drunken belligerence.

  Declan shook his head. “Vivien,” he began, “this isn’t really—”

  But she could feel herself losing steam, her body gradually folding in on itself so that all she could think about was lying down. Declan moved with her as she sagged, and they ended up laying side by side, her arms draped lazily over his shoulders. She closed her eyes.

  “Not that many,” she heard him say quietly. “Two.”

  Her eyes snapped open. Two, as in two times? Or two girls? And how was two “not that many?”

  Reading her mind he said, “It’s not important. It has nothing to do with us.” A long sigh escaped his lips. “Why do you find it so hard to believe that you’re all I care about?” He gazed fiercely into her eyes. “You don’t have to dare me to fall for you; I already have. I thought I’d made that clear on several occasions.”

  Fall for you. Those words echoed in her mind. That was what she wanted. She wanted to fall against his warm body and nestle her head beneath his chin. She wanted him to cradle her and keep telling her sweet nothings that made her smile on the inside.

  And the magical thing was she didn’t even have to say these things because he saw it all in her eyes. He reached his arms around her and pulled her tight into his warm, spicy embrace. She buried her face in his chest, the wine still coursing sluggishly through her body, making her feel as heavy as stone. She was so very tired. Wouldn’t it be nice to just call it a night and fall asleep right here, right now…?

 

  She awoke to a gentle shaking.

  “Vivien,” Declan said in a loud whisper, “I think I should take you home now.”

  She raised her head with difficulty. It took several seconds to figure out where in the world she was. She rolled onto her back and moaned. “I have a splitting headache.”

  “Red wine.” He shook his head knowingly.

  “What time is it?” she asked, her voice muted as she draped her arm across her face.

  “Quarter after three.”

  This reply alarmed her enough to make her sit up. “In the morning?”

  “Yeah.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “Wow.”

  “I’m afraid you’re going to feel like shit for a while.”

  She was horrified. A hangover. Only drunks got hangovers. “I am not hung over,” she insisted. “I just have a headache.”

  “That’s what a hangover is.”

  “Oh,” she said, realizing he was probably right. What had she been thinking? Worse, than that, what had she done? It all came back to her in an instant.

  “Oh no,” she said, falling back onto the cushions.

  “What?”

  “I think I made a fool of myself. That’s what.”

  “No. Not really. You were…less inhibited. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  She moaned again.

  “Hey. It wasn’t so bad,” he said. “Actually, it was pretty awesome. We managed to snag a few good pictures and—”

  She leapt to her feet. “Nooooooo…!”

  “Kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughed.

  She scowled at him. “That was just mean.”

  Declan tried not to smile. “You’re right. It was. Sorry.” Reaching out to her, he said, “Come back here. Jumping around is only gonna make your head feel worse.”

  With a pout she returned to the sofa.

  “So you have to tell me, what got into you? Why the wine? The shocking behavior?” he teased.

  This was a legitimate question. “I’m not sure, really,” she answered. “The whole night was just…awkward…and the wine was just…there.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “The dinner thing was kinda weird, with all that stuff you told me running through my head.”

  “Besides,” she said quickly, hoping not to revisit that topic, “aren’t you tired of me being such a nerd? Aren’t you bored with me?”

  A look of disbelief crossed his face and he began shaking his head. “I feel like I’m still getting to know you. How could I be tired of you already? I’m not looking for something else.”

  “On second thought,” he added, breaking into a sly grin, “I’m willing to make allowances. Like, if
you’re into being a lesbian now and then, I’m all right with that. As long as I can watch.”

  She hid her face in her hands. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

  He pulled her hands away. “On the contrary, I’m the one who’ll never forget. That was…an unexpected bonus for the evening.”

  “What is it with guys and lesbians?”

  “Correction,” he said, “hot lesbians. Not the butch-looking ones we have around here at the university.” He smiled. “I’m sorry, but two hot girls together is every guy’s fantasy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Fantasy is the key word there. I’ll bet the invitation from good-looking lesbians doesn’t roll around that often.”

  He shook his head. “Sadly, no.”

  “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but that’s the last time you’re going to get anything like that from me.” She contemplated this for a minute, then gave him the hint of a smile. “Actually, it wasn’t all that bad.”

  “Ha!” he laughed. “Are you trying to torture me now? Well…never say never.” He suddenly looked at her with that nurturing look of his. “How’s your head?”

  “It’s OK.”

  “I could’ve let you sleep, but then I thought you might be mad.”

  “Yeah, I probably would’ve freaked out. I’ve never been out this late before.”

  “Let’s get going, then,” he said, standing up. “I don’t want to be responsible for getting you in trouble.”

  As they made their way to the front door, they looked around for Nathan and Lauren, but the two were nowhere to be seen. The TV and all the lights were still on, and an open carton of butter pecan ice cream sat melted on the countertop.

  “Guess they had a midnight snack,” Declan observed.

  Outside it was chilly, and Vivien shivered as she and Declan hurried to his car. As she waited for him to unlock the doors, she jittered up and down, glancing around her. Oddly enough, the same blue pickup truck she’d been seeing from her window late at night sat parked across the street. But maybe she was just being paranoid. How many of those trucks were there in this town? Enough to make it an unremarkable coincidence. That was all.

  Declan touched her cheek gently, causing her to stir to life. She looked around to see that she was already home. She must have dozed off again.

  “Is your mom gonna kill you for coming home this late?” he asked.

  She glanced at the clock and closed her eyes again. “I don’t know. She’s either sleeping or out. If she wakes up, I guess I’ll tell her that I fell asleep at Lauren’s.”

  “Do you want me to come up with you? Maybe I can help explain stuff.”

  She smiled at him. His thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze her. “No. Bad idea. Ramona would not be pleased to meet you for the first time in the middle of the night.”

  “Well…when am I gonna meet her? Don’t you think I should? Sometime soon?”

  This was a reasonable request. “Yes. Of course you should. I’ll work on it, I promise.”

  “You haven’t even told her about me yet, have you?”

  “Don’t go getting the wrong idea,” she said quickly. “It’s not you that concerns me, it’s her. I’m sure she will find a way to thoroughly embarrass me in front of you.”

  “Really. How bad could she be?”

  “You’ll see,” she told him with a sigh. “All right. I’m going.”

  He leaned over and gave her a tender kiss. “Sweet dreams.”

  “You too,” she told him, opening the car door.

  “My dreams will be sweet,” he crooned, “’cause I’ll be dreaming of you.”

  “How incredibly cheesy.”

  “Yeah. But you liked it.”

  She smiled. Of course he was right.

  Eighteen