It’s no biggie.” Annabelle shrugs a shoulder and smiles. “Next week.”
When I notice Grams is staring at me like she’s about to offer a one-way ticket to her bedroom, I decide it’s time to roll. “If you’ll excuse us,” I say, “I’m going to take Charlie with me now.”
Grams and Annabelle shuffle so we can reach the door, and Blue shoots me an I’d-like-to-cut-your-Achilles-tendons look.
I place my hand on the small of Charlie’s back and lead her from the house. As I’m opening her car door, Grams steps outside and yells, “Home by midnight, or I’ll whip you both.”
Charlie cringes, waves at her grandma, then slides into the passenger’s seat. I close her door and jog to the other side and get in. As I back out into the street, I notice a blue Nissan parked in front of her house. It has about the same appeal as a ninety-year-old with a heroin problem.
“Whose car is that?” I ask.
Charlie points a finger at the POS. “That’s Blue’s blue. We call him Scrappy.”
I decide that’s why Blue and Annabelle rode the bus to volunteer this morning. That thing makes a unicycle seem like reliable transportation.
Charlie is staring at me.
“What?” I ask without turning toward at her.
“Nothing,” she says. “You just look really nice. And I’m really happy you’re taking me to this party.”
“You are? I figured you might be having second thoughts.”
She shakes her head and tugs the top of her dress up, which is suddenly having an issue trying to cover up her chest.
“Well, that’s good.” I start Liz and pull out into the street. “I want you to let loose tonight. Try some things you wouldn’t normally try.”
“Like what?” she asks.
“Nothing crazy,” I answer. “It’s just…look, you don’t like when people judge you and your friends, do you?”
She shakes her head.
“Then just try to be open-minded and not judge the people at this party. You never know, you might even have fun.” I reach over to turn on the stereo, then stop. She doesn’t like the radio, I remind myself.
“Okay, I’ll be open-minded,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
With Charlie here beside me, I realize it was crazy to think she knows what she’s capable of. Not a chance. She has no idea she has a stash of glittery pink seals inside her body, and I’m definitely not telling her. The less she knows, the better.
I squeeze her knee and concentrate on finding Taylor’s house. We drive the rest of the way in silence, and strangely enough, it feels perfectly normal. Eventually, Elizabeth Taylor pulls off onto a dirt road, and we take it for a quarter mile. At the end of the makeshift road is an enormous two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch on the top and bottom levels.
Music is blasting from the house, and a smile finds its way to my face. I park the car and open Charlie’s door. She bites her lip, and I tell her everything’s going to fine. But that’s not entirely the truth, is it? Because this party isn’t going to be fine.
It’s going to be the beginning of her end.
Chapter Eleven
The Party
I knock once, then let myself in.
Charlie doesn’t move from outside the doorway. “Shouldn’t we wait out here?”
“No, Charlie. If you’re invited to a party, you just go in.” I’m going to have to be careful tonight. She’s not used to parties, and I need her to mesh so she doesn’t get all holier-than-thou.
Charlie trails in after me like she’s expecting an alarm to sound.
Inside Taylor’s fridge, I grab myself a beer. “What do you want to drink?” I ask as I pop the top and take a pull. The beer rushes down my throat, and I shiver from how damn good it feels.
“Oh, I’m not drinking.” Charlie bites her nails and glances around. The kitchen is empty. In fact, the whole house is empty. Party must be in the back.
“Come on, Charlie. We talked about this on the way over. People drink at parties. You’re at a party.” I step toward her and run my hand down her arm. “Trying new things, remember?”
She wraps her arms around her waist, then smiles and nods.
“Thatta girl.” I grab a strawberry-kiwi wine cooler from the top shelf. A shot of tequila is what I’d like to feed her, but I figure I better ease her into this.
I slide the wine cooler across the kitchen counter, and she grabs it. More beer finds its way down my gullet as Charlie twists the cap off her drink. She takes a small sip.
“Not bad,” she says. She takes another sip.
Thank goodness for small miracles. “Ready to get crunk?”
“Get what?”
“Join the party.”
“Oh, yeah,” she says. “Where is everyone?”
“Probably in the back.” Following the thumping sound of bass, I lead the way through Taylor’s house and find a sliding glass door in the living room that leads outside. When I pull it open, the music washes over me.
Two speakers are built over an enormous deck that extends into the backyard. A dozen people sit on benches built along the inside of the deck, and from the sound of it, there are even more people farther out in the yard.
I nod what’s up to a few people and keep moving. Charlie stays near me as we head down a flight of wooden stairs descending from the deck. At the bottom of the stairs, she stops and makes this surprised sound.
In front of us is a clearing half the size of a football field. Beyond that are giant trees with white paper lanterns hanging from the branches. I’m a bit impressed myself. The parties I used to throw were limited to kegs and a bonfire. Guys don’t really do decorations.
Though this party is all fancy, the kegs are still in attendance, which is pretty delightful since I’ve already killed my beer. I crush the can and do a long-distance toss to the trash.
“Ready for another?” I turn around and face Charlie, who still has ninety-nine hundredths of her drink left. “Charlie, you’re nursing that thing. You need to drink it.”
She breaks her gaze from the lanterns and turns her drink up. I put my hand on the bottom and keep the bottle upturned for much longer than I’m sure she intended.
“There you go,” I say when she forces it back down. It’s going to take more than a wine cooler to earn Charlie seals, but I know where one wine cooler can lead, and that’s where we’re headed. Drunk people lose their inhibitions. People without inhibitions sin. Therefore, Operation Get Charlie Wasted has been launched. “One more good pull like that and we’ll be ready to hit the keg.”
“I knew you’d come.”
I turn around and see Taylor heading toward us. Over her shoulder, I spot a guy’s legs flailing in the air. Keg stand. Jealous.
“How long you been here?” Taylor wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me into a hug. Her boobs press against me, and I briefly wonder if they’ll make a full appearance tonight. The bright orange shirt she’s wearing is pushing those puppies up and over, and it wouldn’t take much to make it happen.
“Not long,” I say. “Good party.”
“’Course. I only throw the best. Come on, let me take you around and introduce you.” She loops her arm through mine and starts to pull me away.
“Hang on.” I pull my arm away. “Charlie, you want to walk around with us?”
Taylor notices Charlie, and her face puffs up like a blowfish. “I didn’t know you brought a date.”
I shrug because there’s no best way to handle this. Tearing into Taylor will be tonight’s dessert, but I can’t have Charlie upset.
“It’s okay,” Charlie says. “Think I might just hang out on the deck.”
Taylor grabs my arm again, and again I pull it away. “I’m not ditching her, Taylor.”
“Okay. Fine.” She smiles likes it’s no biggie. “I’ll be around if you decide to be social.”
I face Charlie as Taylor sashays toward a small group of girls. “Yes. Bef
ore you even say anything, yes. I want to hang out with you. No, it’s not fine that I ditch you. We came together, we’re partying together.”
Charlie grins. “I wasn’t going to say anything. But thanks.” She turns her wine cooler up and drains it dry. “Did you still want to go to the keg?”
“Damn, girl. You do know how to party.” I lead her toward the keg and fill up a red plastic cup. “Here you go, sweetheart.” I grab one for myself, and we sit down on the deck steps. “You having a good time?” What I mean to say is, Are you feeling your booze yet?
“We’ve only been here, like, ten minutes,” she says in a completely sober voice. “But, yeah. I’m having fun.”
“Cool. How ’bout we make it even more fun?” I stand up and yell out across the clearing. “What’s up, people! Who’s up for a drinking game?”
Several drunkards give a slurred yell of excitement and raise their plastic cups.
“On the deck. Five minutes.”
I nudge Charlie, and she heads up the stairs, whispering to me over her shoulder. “I’ve never played a drinking game, Dante.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “It doesn’t take much athleticism.”
People crowd around us in a circle and await the drink-a-thon. I break past the crowd and climb up on a bench. My heart is pumping, and my mouth is smiling, and I feel like I belong.
“Everyone ready?”
Zombie-esque slurring.
“Okay. The game’s called I’ve Never. For the two of you who don’t know how to play, I’ll explain the rules. I’m going to yell something out, and if you’ve done it, you have to drink. Here we go.” I raise my glass up in the air. Charlie is watching me with big eyes and red cheeks.
“Hmmm. Let’s see. Okay, I’ve never gone to Centennial High School.” People grumble and take a drink of their beer. I do, too. And more importantly, so does Charlie.
“Next. Uh, let me think.” I glance at Charlie and act like I just thought of something, like she happened to give me the idea. “I’ve never volunteered before.” Taylor makes a big show of drinking, and so do several other people. I bet they’ve never volunteered a day in their life. But the girl in the red dress has, which is why she places the red cup to her mouth.
Charlie smiles and shakes her head like I’m flirting. Taylor’s eyebrows furrow, and she whispers to the girl standing near her.
I decide to let up for a couple, or Charlie will know I’m purposely targeting her.
“I’ve never been in a fistfight.” I take a big swallow of my beer and watch as several other guys, and a few chicks, join me.
One more freebie and it’s back to Operation Get Charlie Wasted. “I’ve never had a one-nighter.” People laugh and drink up, and my eyes nearly explode out of my skull when I see Miss Charlie Cooper sneak a drink.
“Game over. Thanks for playing.” I jump down from the bench and lean in close to Charlie. “You’ve had a one-nighter?”
Her whole face changes colors. Damn right, I just busted you.
“It was last summer. It wasn’t a big deal.”
“Who was it?” Not that I care.
She shrugs. “Just some guy I met. He was staying at the same hotel as me and Grams.”
I stand up straight and run my tongue over my teeth. Charlie getting it on with some random guy on the beach? Who woulda thunk. “You make it a habit of mugging down with strangers?”
“We didn’t mug down. We just kissed and stuff. Not that it’s any of your business.” Charlie turns and heads down the deck stairs toward the clearing.
I run after her, wondering if she realizes that kissing and stuff doesn’t really classify as a one-nighter. “None of my business?”
She shakes her head.
That’s it. She’s officially feeling her alcohol. And holy crap, she’s heading to the keg again. “You want another one?”
“Yeah. Beer’s gross, but it’s good for my brain. I like the way it fizzles in there.”
Good for my brain? The collector part of me snatches up her cup and pumps more frothy yellow liquid. But the other part of me, the human part, feels a twinge deep in my gut. She’s getting drunk because of me. This fact is 95 percent pleasing, and 5 percent…something else. I can’t think about the something-else part. Especially since Charlie is half walking, half staggering toward a guy who’s sure to blow her off.
“Hey there, football man,” I overhear her saying.
Sweet Jesus.
I jog after her and grab her shoulders. “There you are, Charlie. Why don’t we go back up on the deck and hang out?”
“Dante, stop.” She pulls away from me and grins up at the disheveled guy three times her size. “I want to talk to Vince Haggard.”
Vince’s face lights up, and he glances at his buddies. Together, they laugh like they’re one person, which they sort of are. Charlie doesn’t realize they’re laughing at her. She only laughs with them and makes sweet love to her cup of beer. I’ve got to get her to slow down before she becomes that girl.
“Hey, why don’t I get you something mixed? I bet there’s good stuff in the house.” What I mean by this is, I bet there’s Coke in the house, and you’ll have no idea it’s virgin.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she says. “Beer tastes like gold nuggets and baby kittens. Which is exactly why I’d prefer another one.” Charlie upends her cup. I’d like to say beer spills out onto the ground. But it doesn’t. Because Charlie has already polished it off. In, like, two seconds.
This is getting ridiculous. If she keeps going like this, she’ll be passed out within an hour, and passed-out peeps tend to refrain from sinning. I need a distraction, something to get her mind off drinking.
Taylor is a few feet away, and I have an idea.
“Hey, Taylor,” I yell. “Good times.” I raise my glass, and she smiles with one side of her mouth. “How about another game? Maybe a sober one so the lightweights can play.”
She glances at her friends, and her half smile grows wider.
“Yeah, I got a game we can play,” she says. “But only since you asked.”
Chapter Twelve
Hide and Go Seek
Everyone gathers around as Taylor explains the game.
“This game is like Hide and Go Seek, but with a dirty little twist.” She sweeps her dark hair off her shoulders and continues, “Guys, you stand near the deck stairs. And girls, when the guys start counting, we’ll run out into the woods and hide.”
A guy who’s way too small to be categorized as male asks, “What do we get if we find you?”
“Exactly,” she says. “That’s the twist. If you find a girl, you get to bring her back to the deck and kiss her.”
The guys cheer their approval, and I look at Charlie. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but maybe it’ll be good. Maybe she and some guy will hook up. From the looks of it, there aren’t a ton of good influence dudes here. The right boy toy might push her to sin and make my job easier.
Taylor raises her hand to get the guys to shut up. “The game is over after ten minutes. If there are more girls on the deck than in the woods, the guys win. More girls left in the woods, we win.”
The girls and guys begin to separate. The girls inch toward the woods, ready to run, and the guys linger near the stairs.
“Okay, losers,” Taylor jeers. “Turn around and count to fifty so we can beat your asses.”
Right before I turn around, I steal one last glance at Charlie. She’s set to run like this is the freaking Boston Marathon. The smile on her face sweeps from ear to ear. For some stupid reason, it makes me excited to play Taylor’s dumb game. I’m about to go into counting mode when I catch Taylor eyeing me. She winks and mouths the words, Find me.
Maybe. Not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.
I turn around and listen while some douchebag counts and the girls run into the woods like a pack of wild dogs. When Homie finally gets to fifty, I turn around and watch as thirty guys run crotch-first toward the w
oods.
Me? I’m taking it easy. There’s nothing out there I care about.
A minute later, I hear the first chick squeal echo through the trees. Footsteps fall close by, and I see a guy dragging a girl toward the deck. When he gets to the clearing, he flips her over his shoulder and races up the stairs. Then he presses his lips to her. Or eats her face. I can’t tell from here.
The whole thing has a barbaric, caveman ring to it, but I’ll admit it’s pretty entertaining to watch.
I lean against a tree as more and more girls are pulled out of the woods. Taylor’s waiting for me, no doubt, so there’s no need to rush. Somewhere near the deck, the caveman leader yells, “Five minutes.”
Leaves crunch under my red sneakers as I set out to claim my prize. I wonder if Taylor will let me drag her back by the hair. It’s an enticing thought.
I don’t get ten steps before I see Taylor being pulled toward the clearing by Vince. She spots me and delivers a few friendly death rays.
Right back at ya, babe.
Oh, well. Game’s over for me, but I’m curious how Charlie made out. Or who she made out with.
When I get to the clearing, I scan the deck. I don’t see Charlie anywhere. Maybe she’s still hiding. She’s a clever girl. I wouldn’t put it past her to be one of the reigning champs.
Then I freeze. Something horrible occurs to me.
“Taylor,” I ask. “How much time is left?”
She laughs, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Three minutes or so.”
I glance around and notice none of the guys are coming out of the forest. Or going back in.
Oh, fuck.
“There are still girls left out there.” I can hear the pleading in my voice, and it makes me want to kill something. Anything.
“None worth finding,” someone yells.
Everyone laughs at Shithead’s comment, but instead of breaking his jaw, I run.
I’m about to crash into the woods when Taylor yells, “Two minutes, sweetheart.”
Branches whip across my face and snag my Boss shirt, but I don’t care. Charlie can’t be the only girl left.