A Midsummer's Nightmare

“Shut up.”

  I glanced through the window as he pulled his cell phone from the console. Leather interior. All shiny and pretty. Everything was exactly like Dad’s… except for the stereo.

  “Dude!” I cried. “Your stereo kicks ass!”

  “Girls who like stereos are lame,” Theo teased.

  “I thought I told you to shut up.”

  “Never said I’d listen.”

  I made my way around the front of the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Play me something,” I demanded, leaning back. “I want to see just how awesome that thing must sound. What did you pay for it? Two hundred bucks?”

  “With the new speakers, it was closer to five hundred,” he said, sitting down in the driver’s seat and shutting the door. The windows were rolled up. The party was far, far away. We were all alone.

  “What are you in the mood to hear?” he asked, hooking his MP3 player into the system.

  “Michael Jackson,” I said.

  Theo raised an eyebrow at me. “Really? You like MJ?”

  “Yep. Can you guess my favorite song?”

  “Easy,” he said. “ ‘Billie Jean.’ ”

  “You got it.”

  He smiled and pushed a few buttons on his MP3 player. Seconds later, Michael Jackson was singing to us about the beauty queen who was not the mother of his baby.

  “You know, Whitley,” Theo said, his lips suddenly very close to my ear, “you’re pretty cute for a high school girl.”

  “I’m not in high school,” I told him. “I just graduated, thank you very much. I’m going to be a freshman in college soon. Maybe I’ll major in music, like you. But I’m a big girl now, no kid.”

  He chuckled again. He had a cute chuckle.

  “That’s good,” he said. “Then I don’t feel so guilty about doing this.”

  Then he was kissing me, and I was kissing him back. He had very strong lips. They sent shock waves down my spine. My arms wrapped around him, and my eyes slid closed. The windows were tinted; there would be no pictures of this online. No small-town paparazzi. This was all mine.

  But for some reason I just couldn’t get into it. Theo was a good kisser, and he was attractive, but the longer it went on, the less I wanted it.

  “Hey… stop,” I gasped, pulling away as Theo’s hand slid beneath the waistband of my jeans. “Slow down, okay?”

  He pressed his mouth against mine again, but his hands didn’t stop. His fingers kept dancing down into my jeans, toying with the elastic of my underwear.

  Part of me wanted to say Screw it! and let him do what he wanted. Why not? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d slept with someone I barely knew, and I came into tonight looking for some level of hookup. It’s not like anyone would think less of me.

  But maybe I’d think less of me…

  I kept imagining Nathan. Showing me that stupid website. Reminding me of the example I was setting for Bailey. Saying he couldn’t believe I’d sleep with someone after we… He hadn’t finished that thought.

  “Seriously,” I murmured, pushing at Theo’s wrist. “Not tonight.”

  Theo’s hand slid out of my pants and I relaxed. Until he began trying to pull down the zipper of my jeans. When I pushed at his wrist again he resisted, shoving me lower in the seat as he moved in closer. My head thudded against the passenger’s window and my back pressed into the door, the handle digging into my spine. Theo’s face, distorted and hazy, swam before me. Then it—he—descended on me, like a snake striking its prey.

  All of a sudden, I was scared.

  “Theo, quit it,” I said, firmly this time. Or at least I tried to sound firm. I knew my words were slurring, and I could feel my voice shaking when I spoke. “I’m not joking.”

  “Shh,” he whispered in my ear. “You know you want to. I’m cute, remember? Way cuter than that guy in the photo. With the shitty dreadlocks.”

  I felt something catch in my throat.

  He had seen the Facebook page.

  His mouth covered mine, but it felt more like suffocation than a kiss. I pushed at his arm again, trying to turn my head so I could breathe. But his whole body was on top of mine now, holding me in place. When his tongue forced its way between my lips, I bit down as hard as I could.

  Theo jerked back, and for a second I thought I was free. I groped for the door handle, but then he lunged at me again, knocking my searching hand aside and hitting the lock on the door. I was drunk and he was fast. He had my wrists, forcing them over my head.

  “Stop!” I screamed. “Stop! Stop!”

  But the windows were rolled up. The party was far, far away. My phone was somewhere out there. We were all alone.

  And if someone happened to walk by, to stumble upon us, they wouldn’t stop him. They would think I’d asked for this. They’d think I wanted this. Or maybe they’d think I deserved it. My antics, my “behavior,” had finally gotten me into serious trouble. Would they believe that? Because of a stupid website and a few stupid kisses and more than a few stupid drinks—would they believe I’d set myself up for this?

  Maybe I did. Maybe they’d be right. Maybe this was my punishment for hooking up with boys I didn’t know, or for drinking so much I couldn’t fight back.

  “Please don’t,” I said, sobbing, tears rolling down my cheeks as Theo made another move to push my jeans down.

  “Get the fuck off her!”

  The driver’s side door was yanked wide open. Two hands caught Theo’s shoulders and dragged him away from me.

  With my arms released from his grip, I grabbed the waistband of my thong and jeans and yanked them back up, closing the zipper as fast as I could. I wanted to lock them, if that was possible. To make it so that only I could unfasten my pants. No one else.

  It took me a minute to find my breath, but once I could inhale and exhale normally again, I unlocked the door and hurled myself out of the SUV.

  I couldn’t stand up anymore. My legs gave way, and I fell on all fours, puking next to the passenger’s side door of Theo’s SUV. Face wet, throat aching, I practically crawled around the front of the vehicle, trying to figure out what had just happened.

  Then I saw Harrison.

  His fists moved so fast that I barely saw them, but I heard the thuds as each hit Theo—one in the jaw, one in the stomach.

  The last thing I saw before I passed out in the gravel driveway was Harrison’s foot colliding with Theo’s rib cage as he lay, groaning, in the grass.

  Yes, I thought as the blackness swept over me. Harrison is definitely my friend.

  18

  When I felt the fingers brushing through my hair, my first instinct was to jerk away. My eyes snapped open, my hand swatting blindly. Theo’s perfect face and shiny teeth flashed in my mind. Only, now they looked much less attractive. The strong muscles in his jaw were menacing, and the glittery teeth were sharp and dangerous.

  “No!” I gasped, rolling onto my side. But I wasn’t in the SUV anymore. Or lying in the driveway. It took me a second to realize that the ground beneath me was soft. There was even a pillow propping my head up.

  “Shh… Whitley, it’s okay.”

  My eyes found Harrison’s, and a sigh of relief exploded from my lips.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, trying to sit up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  He put a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to lie back down. “Don’t get up yet, okay? Nathan is on his way.”

  “What?”

  “I called him.”

  “Forget those thank-yous.”

  I didn’t want Nathan to see me like this. I didn’t want him to know how badly I’d screwed up this time, how right he’d been about me. That I was a drunk and a whore. This was my fault, just like what had happened to Bailey was my fault. I didn’t want him to see that he’d been right.

  “He’s coming to take you home,” Harrison said, sitting down next to me on the bed. I figured we must be in his room. The clock on the wall said it was just after three, which meant I hadn?
??t been out for long.

  “But what about our slumber party?” I asked.

  “It can wait,” he said, squeezing my hand. “You should go home tonight, sweetie.”

  “I’d rather stay here.” But I knew I wouldn’t be good company for the fun sleepover I’d promised him.

  “We’ll have a real slumber party before the summer’s over,” he said. “Just not tonight.”

  I rolled onto my back again, looking over at Harrison. “So, how did you find us?” I asked. “Theo and me… How did you know to look for us?”

  “I found your purse on the picnic table,” he said. “And my sister said she saw you hanging out with Theo. He’s not a good guy, Whitley. He’s my sister’s on-again, off-again thing, but they pretend to be friends when they’re off. It’s weird…. Anyway, he’s a jerk. I got worried. So I checked the front of the house and I heard you yelling, and there you were.”

  “There we were,” I whispered.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I said. “I’m just really, really drunk.”

  “Took you long enough to admit it.”

  “Screw you.”

  “You wish you could.”

  I laughed, but it hurt my head, so I stopped. “Ow…”

  Harrison smiled. He placed his large hands gently on my shoulders and pulled me upright. “Easy,” he murmured, just as the doorbell rang in the next room.

  “You should get back to the party,” I said when he slid an arm around me, walking me into the living room. “I’m making you be a bad host.”

  “Party’s over,” he said. “I kicked everyone out after I carried you inside.”

  “Christ.” I dropped my head. “I’m so sorry. I totally ruined your party.”

  He squeezed my shoulder as we reached the front door. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I didn’t give a shit about the party. I only threw it because you wanted me to. You’re what I care about.”

  I smiled and clumsily kissed his cheek. “Why do you have to be gay?”

  “That’s just how God made me.” He reached out with his free hand and opened the door, already wearing his flirty smile. “Hey there.”

  Nathan was standing on the front porch, dressed in the same battered blue jeans and black T-shirt he’d had on that morning. His hair was messier than usual, which meant he’d been asleep when Harrison called.

  “Whitley…”

  His dark eyes passed carefully over me, as if he was checking to make sure every part was still intact. When he looked into my face a moment later, he seemed relieved… and kind of sad. The expression reminded me of one Sylvia used right before she tried to hug me, and for a second I expected Nathan to extend his arms and pull me to him.

  But he restrained himself. Instead, he turned to Harrison and said, “Thank you so much for calling me.”

  “Get her home safe,” Harrison said, easing me onto the porch. I stumbled a little, and Nathan reached out to hold me up the way Harrison had.

  “I can walk,” I told them, though that obviously wasn’t true.

  “She’s very drunk,” Harrison said. “She had a lot of vodka.”

  Nathan sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Harrison. You know, she’s lucky to have you. Anyone would be.”

  Why were they talking about me like I wasn’t there?

  Harrison grinned. “You can have me anytime,” he said.

  The way Nathan laughed made it clear that he thought Harrison was joking. But of course I knew he wasn’t. Poor Harrison would never have a chance with Nathan. But still, I was grateful to him for keeping it light tonight.

  “See you later,” Nathan said, hauling me down the front steps toward his Honda.

  “Bye!” Harrison called after us. “Be careful. Good night, Whitley. Call me if you need me.”

  “I will,” I tried to yell, but it came out more like a croak as my knees began to shake beneath my weight.

  “Careful,” Nathan said, holding me up as he opened the passenger’s side door. He helped me inside and made sure I got my seat belt buckled before shutting the door. He smelled fresh as he leaned across me, a little spicy, and his messy hair tickled my neck. I held my breath until I was buckled in. A second later, he slid into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice so low that I barely heard it over the sound of the purring engine.

  “Fine.”

  I saw his mouth open, like he might say something, but he shut it again, very slowly. The car began moving, turning around in the gravel driveway and rolling down the long, winding path to the highway with a slightly rocky bounce. Nathan stared out the windshield, his eyes never darting in my direction. He didn’t know what to say, either, I guess.

  I rolled my head to the other side and stared out the window. We were away from the trees now, and fireworks were shattering the darkness all around us. They’d probably be going all night, scattering temporary multicolored stars across the sky. Pinks. Blues. Greens. Reds. I was surprised they didn’t give me a headache. I actually found them kind of peaceful in a weird way.

  “Don’t take me back,” I whispered, the words leaving my mouth before I even realized I was going to say them.

  “What?”

  “Don’t take me to the house.” My eyes stayed focused on the fireworks. Bottle rockets flew up out of someone’s backyard. “Can we go somewhere else?”

  “Um… sure. Where do you want to go?”

  “Anywhere.”

  After a moment, Nathan just said, “Okay.”

  “Where are we?” I asked as Nathan pulled the Honda into an unfamiliar parking lot. The building in front of us looked old and shabby. SHAY’S DINER was written on a lopsided sign above a cracked glass door. The windows glowed with a painful fluorescent light that made my head pound.

  “It’s the only place I could find open this late,” Nathan said.

  He unfastened his seat belt and climbed out of the car. With a sigh, I did the same.

  “You said anywhere,” he reminded me as he took hold of my elbow and helped me walk inside.

  “Guess I did,” I mumbled.

  The place had those annoying bells that jingled every time someone walked in or out the door, and the waitress behind the counter called, “Hey, y’all!” the second she heard them. Like it was an automatic response. What a sad job to have. Greeting insomniacs at three in the morning with a stupid fake Southern accent. Not to mention the humiliation of wearing that horrific apron. I kind of felt bad for this chick.

  “Good morning,” Nathan said, all friendly and cheerful. What a dork. “Can I get a coffee, please? Black. And a couple pieces of toast.”

  “No problem, sweetheart.” She probably loved boys like Nathan. So polite and courteous. Of course, at this time of night, any guy who didn’t smack her ass must have seemed like a godsend.

  He walked me to a booth with a sticky table and slid into the seat across from me. A second later, the waitress appeared and placed a mug and a plate of toast in front of Nathan. She was in her mid-forties, with reddish-brown hair and a round face. She looked so warm and sunny. Not the kind of woman you’d expect to meet at a dirty diner in the wee hours of the night.

  “There you are, baby,” she said to Nathan. “You just holler if you need anything else.”

  Okay. So, maybe her accent wasn’t fake. She sounded Texan, or maybe Alabamian. I could never tell the difference.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Anything for you, honey?” she asked me.

  I shook my head and curled into a ball where I sat, my feet in the booth, knees to my chest. I could still feel Theo’s hands on my hips, his breath on my face. Like a ghost. Gone, but not gone.

  “All right. Just let me know.” She walked back to the counter, her hips swaying to the beat of the country song that played from the ancient-looking jukebox in the corner.

  I glanced around. Other than the waitress, Nathan and I were the only people in the diner.

/>   “I guess Hamilton doesn’t have many night owls.”

  “It must not,” he agreed. “Here. Drink and eat this.” He shoved the toast and mug toward me.

  “Ew,” I said, shoving the coffee back across the table. “No. I hate coffee.” I didn’t mind toast, though, so I picked up a piece and took a bite.

  He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Whit, just drink it. It’ll help you sober up. Well, okay, scientifically it won’t, but I swear, it’ll make you feel soberer. The toast will help, but—”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Don’t be such a baby.”

  “I’m not a baby,” I snapped. We glared at each other for a long moment before I gave in and took the mug from him. To be honest, I was really, sickly drunk, and anything that might make me feel better was welcome… even if it did taste like shit.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nathan laughed as I lifted a hand to pinch my nose. “Are you six years old or what?”

  “Shut up.” I took a deep breath through my mouth and raised the mug to my lips. It was scalding hot, and the nose-holding thing didn’t do much to mask the coffee’s bitter taste. It took all of my strength to swallow a few gulps without spitting it out.

  When I put the mug back down, Nathan grinned at me.

  “I hate you.”

  “You just wish you did,” he said.

  I took another drink of coffee and picked up my piece of toast again.

  “The face you make when you drink it is hilarious,” he teased.

  I swallowed a slightly burned bite of bread. “If you aren’t careful, I’ll spit the next mouthful all over you,” I warned.

  He laughed again, but it faded into silence within seconds. His face turned suddenly serious, and I braced myself, arms around my knees again. I knew what was on his mind. It was on mine, too. But I didn’t want to talk about it. Or think about it. Ever again.

  “Please, don’t,” I said when he started to open his mouth. “Not right now, okay? I can’t talk about it right now…. Can we talk about anything but that?”

  “Fine. But if you need to—”

  “I know.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay. Talk about something else.”

  There was a long pause, then Nathan finally said, “I’m sorry.”