Slip

Pearls of wisdom by Ms. Hove:

  New and unfamiliar situations can bring about shy feelings. Teens are often unsure of themselves, and this can make any social situation a painfully awkward experience. While it’s important to remain true to yourself, a shy teen can take certain steps to become more outgoing. 1) Practice social skills with people you know first. 2) Think of some great conversation starters—compliments are always effective! 3) Rehearse ahead of time what you’re going to say. 4) And remember, your critical self is not always your best friend. Send him/her packing!! Give yourself a chance to spread your wings.

  When she finally opened her eyes, she saw that they were not heading toward her apartment, but toward the lake instead. Once they reached Lakeshore Park, he turned and drove down a tree-lined service road she’d never seen before, eventually parking the car on the grass near a dead end. They sat in silence.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he said after several minutes.

  Why hadn’t he listened? Why hadn’t he taken her home like she’d asked? Another clear example of him getting everything he wanted. It was so unfair. “I told you. I told you I wasn’t into parties, didn’t I?” She shook her head. “I never should have let you take me there.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Obviously I’m not the right girl for you. Whatever made me think—”

  “Congratulations,” he jumped in, “on having it all figured out. Well, no offense, but you have no idea who the ‘right girl’ is for me. And your presumptions are totally offensive.” He threw his hands up in disgust. “Anyway, you’re not even being honest with me. You’re just feeding me a bunch of bullshit.”

  “Bullshit?” She laughed disbelievingly. “How would you know? You barely know me. In fact you don’t know me at all.” And he didn’t, she told herself. She wasn’t like those people at the party. He couldn’t possibly know what she was feeling right now.

  “Is that so? I think I do know you.” He leaned in close to her. “And I’ve got news for you: you give up exactly what you’re thinking without even knowing it.”

  She crossed her arms and turned away. It was better this way. They had no future, so why prolong the agony?

  “That’s it?” He let out an infuriated snort. “You’re not even gonna be a part of this conversation?” He waited for a reply, then said, “Damn, you piss me off!” Turning the key in the ignition, he threw the car into reverse.

  She groaned softly to herself. This was so not going how she’d envisioned. Was this what she wanted? The luxury of deliberating was quickly fading. Declan was fuming mad now. It was the classic fork in the road: which path should she choose? Presented with an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to feel the bite of Cupid’s arrow, she had to think fast. What if this was it, the real thing, and she was going to pass like the foolish TV game show contestant who missed winning the luxury sedan for a boring set of luggage?

  Suddenly it occurred to her she might be overreacting, saving herself from the possibility of having her heart crushed like junkyard car. But was she really going to throw it all away for one miserable night?

  “Wait!” she said, grabbing his arm. Declan sighed and cut off the engine. “Let’s…let’s start over. I want to be honest with you. I really do.”

  “I wasn’t aware it was that hard.”

  Right. She deserved that. “It’s just,” she began, “before I met you…before I got to know who you really were, I sort of…thought you were a jerk.”

  He said nothing. “You know,” she said quickly, “because of the people you hung around with. They seemed so…” She searched her mind for the appropriate word. “Vacuous,” she heard herself say. Definitely an ACT vocabulary word. “Anyway. I didn’t like you much. I thought you treated girls…” She crinkled her nose. This was not turning out to be a coherent explanation of any kind. She looked at him helplessly.

  He offered no assistance. “I’m not following. You’re trying to say you think I’m a total douchebag?”

  “No! I’m trying to tell you I was wrong. I like being with you, that’s the truth. I think…I think I’m a little scared. That’s all.”

  “Of me?”

  She shook her head, looking down into her lap and chewing her lip. “Of this. I’m scared I’m going to put everything I have into this and then it won’t last. You’ll change your mind.” She tried to look at him. “I’m just thinking…what if you’re looking for a certain kind of girl, like the ones at the party, and you realize…?” Was she still talking in circles? She paused and tried to make one point clear: “See, if you’re looking for that, you’ve made a mistake with me.”

  “Vivien,” he said slowly, “just because…shit.” He tried again. “Is it Nathan? Did he say something to you?”

  She absolutely could not bring herself to tell him about Nathan. What she’d seen in that bedroom.

  “Some of my friends,” he went on, “they’re not so much about having a girlfriend. They just want…well, the sex, to put it bluntly. I know you know that already; it’s no big secret.”

  “But you,” she said. “Why…me?” She desperately needed to know. At this moment. She felt so confused. The party had done nothing but make her feel bad about herself. Now she needed to hear him say something good.

  Her question seemed to cause him some confusion himself. “Why not you?” he said, frowning slightly. He reached for her hand. “I like hanging out with you. You make me laugh. You’re not some dumb airhead who couldn’t hold an interesting conversation if her life depended on it. And, I don’t know how to explain this…” He stopped, shaking his head.

  “What?”

  “At the risk of sounding incredibly corny, I feel like you’re what I’ve been looking for all along. It’s…I don’t know.” He laughed, giving up.

  She gave him a timid smile. It might have been corny but it was exactly what she needed to hear.

  “Listen,” he went on. “I know what you must think. But you’re wrong. I’ve been with those girls you’re talking about, and they don’t do it for me.” His eyes searched her face, looking for a sign that what he was saying had registered. “It’s like, maybe you have to get stuff wrong, before you can get it right. You know?”

  She nodded, unsure, but feeling better all the same.

  He patted her softly. “Now let’s get you home. You said you were feeling sick and I don’t want to make things worse. You look like you might be getting a fever.”

  “I do?” she said. “I’m not really sick. I just made that up.” Before he could respond she said, “I meant what I said about starting over.”

  “We don’t have to start over. This was good. We cleared things up. Now we’re even better.”

  She found herself nodding, his explanation simple yet startling. “Could we skip the parties for a while?” she asked, still struggling to shake the queasy feeling that clung to her like a wet t-shirt. We should get to know each other…without… all those other people.”

  “Deal,” he agreed. “I could care less about the parties. Although—” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small scrap of paper. “I did score this phone number from Tattoo Girl and her hot pierced friend. They said they were into threesomes.”

  Her jaw dropped and he quickly ripped the paper to shreds. “Not interested. See that?” He smiled innocently.

  She responded by narrowing her eyes. “You are…” Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted. “What time is it?” With the stress and drama of the evening, she had no idea how late it was.

  He pulled out his cell. “Twelve fifteen. What’s your curfew?”

  She thought about that. She didn’t actually have one. “Oh. I thought it was much later. I don’t have a curfew,” she explained. “My mom never seems to care that much. I mean, I mostly just hang out with Miranda, and Charlie and…” Lauren’s name stalled on her lips. “Maybe she’d care more if she knew I was out with a guy. With you.”

  “She doesn’t know about me?”
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  “No. I didn’t tell her where I was going tonight. She wasn’t home.”

  “Do you and your mom get along?”

  She frowned, thinking. “After the divorce, she totally fell apart and had this, like, scary, erratic behavior. One minute she was happy and nice, the next she was locked in her room for days, crying and stuff. It was awful.

  “Ashton and I, we were a team. We tried to get by without upsetting her—which wasn’t exactly possible, you know, because Ashton was in high school and he had a little problem with authority. Those two fought a lot.

  “But now she’s mostly better. She’s busy with her job; she works for a law firm downtown and they have crazy hours when they’re working on a big case. She’s also busy trying to catch the incredibly elusive perfect husband because let’s face it, who would she really be without a man? But that’s a hopeless quest. She is messed up when it comes to men.”

  She stared hard at Declan. After putting it out there like that, all Ramona’s failures seemed crystal clear, and she felt compelled to voice one of her biggest fears out loud. “I so don’t want to turn out like that.”

  Declan stared back. “You mean, messed up…about men? Or messed up in general?”

  She didn’t know. Both, she supposed.

  “Who says you will?” he answered for her. “You’re a completely different person, making completely different choices.”

  “Right. I know.” She sighed. “I’m sure we’re quite different than your family.”

  “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “Gotta love those proverbs,” she joked. “They bring such comfort.”

  “Wiseass,” he chuckled. Then his expression changed. “Actually, my oldest brother went through a pretty rough time the summer after high school. He and his buddies liked to get together and play poker. They’d bet a little money, just for kicks. But Gavin, he started betting other places too. And all of a sudden, he was in a lot of debt. And people were calling the house all the time, looking for him. Not the kind of people you want to invite into your home, you know?

  “It got so out of hand, he was selling all his stuff. Then stealing my parents’ stuff and selling that too. Lying to everybody. One night he got roughed up bad. My parents had to go pick him up in the emergency room. Someone had broken two of his fingers and beaten his face so badly I couldn’t even recognize him when they brought him home. He never would say who did it.”

  Vivien sucked in her breath.

  “He wound up in counseling. The whole family had to go in the end. It took a while, but he finally cleaned up his act.”

  “Wow. I’m sorry…I never meant to imply that my family is the only one who’s suffered.”

  “I know,” he said. “That’s not why I told you. I just felt like...It’s a part of me. And I wanted you to know. I’ve never told anyone that before—any girls, I mean. It always seemed like they wouldn’t get it.”

  Vivien didn’t know what to say to that.

  “It really affected who I was. I was scared for him. I was scared for me, too. I never wanted to fall into that kind of craziness. Ever since, it’s been important for me to always stay in control.”

  He half-smiled at her. “Now you can see why I was so shocked before, when you wanted to get out of the car. I would never drink and drive. Never put you in danger.” He paused. “Do you trust me?”

  Her mouth opened with wonder. Strange, wasn’t it, that only days before, Christophe had raised the very same question? What weird new world had she entered where men suddenly desired her trust? The ease with which they asked threw her, as if this was the simplest of things to give. Little did they know it was the one thing she kept guarded under lock and key. Never had she tossed it freely to anyone who asked. But she’d made the decision to change her ways. To try, at least. It shouldn’t be that hard, should it?

  She nodded hesitantly. He leaned into her and gently, finger to chin, guided her effortlessly to his mouth.

  Eleven