Being True (16 page)

“Not at all.” I had to find the parachute, or I’d go splat in five seconds flat. “I think you look great however you dress. I was just wondering why you don’t glam yourself up more. I get teased for how I look and how I dress. But there’s not much I can do about it. My clothes are second- or thirdhand at best because that’s all my mom can afford. As for my hair, well, I certainly never knew how to do what you just did. I’m still not entirely sure I can duplicate it, but I’m gonna try. But if you know how to make yourself look as smoking hot as you do now, it makes me believe you work hard to not fit in. That you dress the part of the outcast intentionally. And I just want to know why.”

“You think I look smoking hot?” she asked. She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror and grinned.

I glared at her. “Is that all you heard me say?”

“Pretty much,” she said with a nod.

“You need to answer me, or I’m gonna have to slap you,” I said, repeating her threat.

“Well, well,” she said. Why did she sound so impressed? “Give the gay boy a makeover, and all of a sudden he finds his balls.”

I didn’t dignify her comment with a reply. Instead, I turned my nose up in the air in righteous indignation.

“All right, no need to throw a bitch fit,” she said in complete exasperation. “I look at it this way, Tru. Why do I want to fit in with shallow little shits like Heather, Lucy, or Alison? They’re so busy following each other and the latest trends they couldn’t identify their own asshole if they were squatting over a mirror and staring at it. They rely on others to tell them how to be, what to think, and how to look. I don’t live that way. And I sure as hell don’t want to be confused with people who do. So, yeah, I know how to dress up. I do it a lot. When I’m going out with my cousins or friends from out of town. But at school? Hell, no. I don’t want friends who only like me for the way I look. I want true friends, who love me no matter what. The vain bitches don’t give me a second glance. They walk past me as if I’m nothing. And that’s okay. But the true friends, the people who are worth my time, see who I really am. Those people are my friends. And for them I’d do almost anything.” She turned to look at me. “Like dress in this getup and go to a party with a bunch of popular pricks.”

“I love you, Claudia Zamora.”

“Oh, God,” she said after a quick exhalation. “Now you’re gonna get all sappy on me. I don’t do sappy.”

“Whether you do sappy or not, I love you. And now I know you love me too.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna kick you out of this car.”

“You love me,” I sang at the top of my voice and continued to sing those same three words.

She laughed. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I’m your dumbass.”

“On that point, I won’t argue.” She stopped the car in front of a two-story white stucco house where music blared out the open front door. Parked cars lined the street, and dozens of kids from school ambled up the sidewalk. Others talked and drank from red Solo cups on the porch or the second-story balcony.

The uncurtained windows revealed a packed living room with more of my classmates, and each one of them held a red cup. They swayed to music that sounded like nothing but bass, and every now and then a roar of laughter escaped the flashing interior. Somewhere inside, a strobe light turned the house into a dance club.

“You still want to go through with this?” Claudia asked.

I nodded. Terror had stolen my words.

She parked the car along a side street and shut off the engine. “Then let’s do this,” she said as she grabbed my hand.

I
F
C
LAUDIA
hadn’t been holding my hand as we walked inside Heather’s house, I likely would have run out the front door screaming. The lights inside were off and strobe lights had been positioned throughout the living room; they cast creepy white flashes across the interior landscape.

Was this a party or a haunted house?

To make matters worse, the strange lighting made it virtually impossible to identify who stood a few a feet from the front door. Those standing in the cone of light cast from the hall lighting were clearly having a good time. A group ate what looked like brisket and mashed potatoes from huge foil serving dishes. They were intent on devouring every morsel, and the sweet smoky scent that lingered in the air told me their hunger was pot induced.

Past the stoners and along the adjacent wall stood couples that were far more intent on devouring each other than the food, alcohol, or drugs that surrounded them. How many babies would be conceived here tonight?

What unsettled my nerves the most though was the blaring music. It was as if every single person inside had a hearing problem.

I was edgy enough without all the overstimulation, especially considering the odd stares Claudia and I drew from those closest to us. The potheads stopped eating long enough to gawk, and even some of the soon-to-be parents interrupted their tonsil jockeying to take a gander.

“High school,” Claudia whispered into my ear. “It’s the time of our lives.”

“Yeah, right,” I mumbled in reply.

“You made it!” Alison’s overly excited voice screamed from somewhere in the dark. Before I could locate her, Alison stood in front of us with Stephanie in tow. Alison wore a red strapless dress and had on far too much makeup.

Stephanie had on a far more conservative outfit that fit her fuller figure. She wore tan jeans and a white blouse with beige polka dots scattered along the front. A light blue denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows hung open, exposing just enough of the shirt and her frame to give the illusion of a trim body.

She beat Alison hands down as the prettier of the two.

“Selfie!” she screamed. Suddenly, Alison was at my side, her arm around my shoulders, and her phone held high. Before I could smile, she took the photo after she cocked her head to the right and turned her lips into a duck’s bill. From the huge smile on her face, she was pleased with how she looked in the shot. A few seconds later, the picture was uploaded to Facebook.

When she was done, she gazed at me. Her dilated pupils and inability to stand up straight told me she was drunk. “I’m so glad you decided to come.” She grabbed me and delivered a hug that was mostly her falling into me and me propping her up.

I clutched Claudia for support. If I hadn’t, Alison’s constant swaying would have brought us to the floor. “Me too.” Apparently, I was on a lying streak.

When Alison finally released me from her embrace, she gave me the once over. “And look at you. What a difference the right clothes and styling make. I barely recognized you.”

“Thanks,” I said, doing my best to ignore the backhanded compliment. “It’s all Claudia’s doing.”

She turned her attention to Claudia and arched her eyebrow. It was difficult to tell whose appearance shocked her more. Mine or Claudia’s.

“That’s okay,” Claudia said. “I don’t need a hug.”

The two girls stared blankly at each other in silence. If this had been the Wild West, they’d be walking out of the saloon preparing for their showdown at the not O.K. Corral.

“Are the two of you, like, together?” Stephanie asked. She pointed to our joined hands.

After following Stephanie’s pointing finger, Alison screamed, “Oh my fucking God! I never in a million years would have seen
that
coming.”

“And you still haven’t,” Claudia said as she withdrew her hand from mine. “Tru and I are just friends.”

Alison nodded. “Now
that
I believe,” she said before draining the rest of the drink. Her phone suddenly dinged, and Alison opened it and giggled. “Jeremy just liked the picture,” she told us. She turned to Stephanie. “He’s been ignoring me all night, that bastard.”

“I know.” Stephanie nodded.

“And did you see that slut he came here with? The one with the hoochie momma skirt that barely covers her crab-infested cooter?”

Stephanie nodded again. Claudia and I locked eyes. Were we a part of this conversation or could we go?

“That girl is so ratched,” Alison said as she grabbed my hand. We were evidently stuck here for a few moments longer. “If he thinks liking my selfie is going to make up for bringing that skank here, he’s got another thing coming, right?”

“Right,” I replied. What else was I supposed to say?

She smiled at no one in particular. “Maybe I should take another selfie.”

Before Alison had a chance to strike her pose, a group of guys entering behind us drew her attention and elicited ear-piercing screams. She handed her glass to Stephanie and then jumped into the waiting arms of some of the Jock Brigade from precalc.

I moved to the other side of Claudia, hoping her body and the shadows in the room blocked me from their view. They weren’t exactly my biggest fans, and I didn’t want to start any trouble, especially since I hadn’t found Javi yet.

“She’s pretty lively when she’s drunk,” Stephanie said with a nod to Alison.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Claudia replied as Alison was passed from one jock to the next. Each one kissed her lips and grabbed her ass. Who had Alison called a skank again?

“There’s drinks out back in the coolers or in the kitchen fridge,” Stephanie told us as Alison was manhandled by two studs at the same time.

“Um, don’t you think you should go get her?” Claudia asked. One of the guys stuck his face in Alison’s cleavage while she stumbled backward.

“Only if she goes horizontal,” Stephanie replied. “Those are the rules.”

Claudia nodded as if she understood completely. “Classy.”

“Is Javi here?” I asked Stephanie. I’d had enough of the Drunk Alison Show.

Stephanie nodded. “He was talking to Heather in the kitchen last time I saw him.”

“We’ll never find him standing in one spot,” Claudia said as she grabbed my hand and led me away from Stephanie and through the flashing interior. We passed houseguests making out far more seriously than those in the living room. Back here in the dark, hands were shoved down pants and up blouses. One girl I didn’t recognize ran by topless, chased by a guy I hoped was her boyfriend.

“
Real
classy,” Claudia commented.

Once we made it past the living room and the annoying strobe lights, we entered an appropriately lit hallway, where a line of drunken revelers waited to use the bathroom on the opposite end. While they waited to empty their bladders, they took shots from a tray that was being carted around by our inebriated class president, Enrique Fuentes.

“I can’t feel my legs, bitches!” he shouted at us as he handed Claudia and me a shot each. He then proceeded past us on unsteady legs.

Claudia took the drink and swallowed it in one gulp.

“Claudia!” I couldn’t believe she’d just done that. She was driving.

“Relax,” she said as she tossed the empty shot glass on the carpet. “My tolerance is pretty high, and if I’m gonna stay here one minute longer, I’m gonna need to be socially lubricated.” She eyed my drink and then me. “You drinking that?”

I rolled my eyes and handed it to her. After tossing it back, she grimaced. “That’ll do for now.”

After a wrong turn into an occupied study, where a couple had begun the path to parenthood, we found the kitchen. Heather Barnes stood with three other girls, pouring a pink-colored drink from the blender into their cups. Javi was nowhere in sight.

Before we’d left my house, Claudia had given me the skinny on Heather. She was the product of divorced parents, who assuaged their guilt over their failed marriage by letting their daughter do whatever she wanted, which made her pretty popular at school. If people needed a place to party, they came here.

That meant she literally held most of the students by the balls. If someone pissed her off, they spent the rest of the year on the outside looking in.

Heather looked over her shoulder at us, and instead of sneering like I expected, she smiled. “Wow! The two of you look great,” she said as she waved us over. The bell sleeve of her white lace dress fluttered back and forth. She brushed honey blonde hair from her eyes and held out her arms. “You’ve got to try this.”

We crossed the kitchen to where she stood with two full glasses of whatever concoction she’d just made.

“I really shouldn’t,” Claudia protested before taking the drink.

Thank God I had my driver’s license, because it appeared I’d be driving us home. “Come on, Tru,” Heather said. She tossed back her long locks and grinned. “It’s to die for.”

Peer pressure sucked balls.

I grabbed the drink from Heather’s hand, and she waited for me to take a sip. I glanced at Claudia, who had already drunk a fourth of the contents in her glass. We’d be having a discussion later about drinking responsibly. “I’m not much of a drinker,” I admitted.

They smiled and waved my admission away. “You’ve got to start somewhere,” Heather said with a wink. “I started after my dad moved out.”

I hesitantly brought the cup to my lips and took a sip. Fire scorched my throat, and I immediately started coughing. Heather and the girls giggled while Claudia rolled her eyes. “Stick to soda,” Claudia told me as she snatched the glass from my hand. “Everclear isn’t for you.”

I had no clue what that was, but Claudia couldn’t have been more right. It had tasted like pure rubbing alcohol. Why would anyone want to drink that?

“I’m so happy you’re here tonight,” Heather said as she rubbed my shoulder. “I was glad Alison invited you.”

“Really?” I asked with far more disbelief in my voice than I had intended.

She laughed. “Of course. I haven’t really gotten a chance to talk to you since you came to BHS, and then when I saw that picture of you and Javi in the paper, well, I knew I just had to get to know you. Any friend of Javi’s is a friend of mine.” Her girlfriends nodded.

“Do you know where he is?”

Heather nodded. “He’s out back by the pool,” she said with a motion to the door on the opposite end of the room.

“Thanks,” I said before crossing toward the door.

“Tru, wait.” Claudia caught up to me as I reached for the door.