Forever for a Year (11 page)

Actually … damn. I should talk to Carolina. Even if I don't talk to her, I should stop avoiding her. Walk by her. Sit by her. Smile. Screw that. I'm not going to smile. That's lame. But walk and sit by her? Yeah. Linger …

*   *   *

With a mile left, Edward and Michael stopped talking. Both too tired. At the half-mile-to-go mark, they lost a step, then a second, and that's when I knew it was time. Moved around them and added to the pace. It hurt. Legs shook. Lungs scorched. Head boiled. But I liked it.

Then I did something so strange. After I left the seniors long behind me but still wasn't near the sophomores, I said to myself, but out loud, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Pain,” then I smiled like I was some mental patient. And then I ran even faster. Move. Move. Move. Yes. Yes. Yes. The sophomores, Aaron and Tor, were slowing. Or maybe I was getting faster. I said, not out loud this time but in my head, “Mr. Pain, Mr. Pain, Mr. Pain, Mr. Pain…” And …

I didn't quite catch them. With about one hundred meters to go, they sensed me nearing fast and gave it a last kick that I couldn't outdo. But I was close. I knew it. They knew it. Pasquini, and that damn grin of his, knew it too. Know what I didn't do? Fall to the ground. Remained on my feet. I could have run another mile. Or run that last mile faster.

Pasquini approached, looking like he was bursting to talk, but he just shook his head with that crooked mouth of his and went to talk to Edward and Michael, who were on their butts, and who I had beaten for the first time.

*   *   *

When we were doing our post-run group stretch, during a lull in the conversation, I spoke. I had never said anything at cross-country practice before, not to the group.

“Anyone going to the Darry party tonight?” I asked. I asked because I wanted to go. Because I knew Carolina would be there. And maybe I liked pain. Or maybe I liked what pain could give me.

 

17

Carolina doesn't and does take a shot

So, anyway, by the time I entered the kitchen, there wasn't much room—Peggy's house is not very big—so I just leaned next to the door frame. Katherine got a bunch of red plastic cups out from under the sink, had one of the boys open the vodka, then started pouring just a bit for everyone. These were shots, I guess. One by one, everyone got a red plastic cup and then the second boy passed one to me and I said, “I'm okay,” and didn't take the cup.

The second boy called out, “Kat, this freshman is not partaking in the pre-party shot.”

Everyone stepped aside so Katherine could look at me with her big eyes, and she looked so angry, like I just punched her in the face, and then I noticed Peggy had a red plastic cup in her hand even though we both promised we wouldn't drink until college, and then Katherine said, “You do the shot or you get the fuck out of my house,” and everyone laughed because they probably thought she was joking, except I knew she was not joking at all.

Then things got quiet when Katherine didn't laugh, and then, one second before I was going to leave, or maybe I should just do the shot, but I was probably going to leave, Shannon said, “I'll do her shot for her,” and took the cup meant for me.

“Shut up, bitch,” Elizabeth Shunton said to her sister.

“No way—” Katherine started, but then the first boy said, “It's cool, Katherine. Come on. Drink yours. Let's have a good time,” and he grabbed her butt, and she finally laughed.

“To the best year ever!” Katherine called out, raising her cup. Everyone else did the same, and I felt invisible, like I didn't belong here or anywhere in the world, and then they all drank their shots and screamed. Shannon drank the one meant for me, and I wanted to hug her except she probably would think I was a freak, so I didn't. Then everyone (except me, obviously) did a second shot, even Peggy, and, I don't know, I felt silly in my dress and these shoes and in this house and in high school. I wanted to go back to junior high and be in eighth grade forever.

But then Kendra arrived, because I invited her even though Peggy didn't want me to, and they offered her a shot, and she said no, and suddenly I felt I wasn't so alone even though that's a stupid reason to not feel alone. No one, not even Katherine, made fun of Kendra for not drinking. This was probably because they were all white and Kendra was black and they were afraid of coming across as racist even though it's actually racist not to make fun of someone just because they are different. I didn't really care why they didn't make fun of her or yell at her, because I really wanted her to stay at the party.

*   *   *

More people started showing up after seven, and it was actually really fun for a little while, because all the freshman girls started dancing after Shannon started, and even though she looked so sexy, like they do in perfume commercials, she said
I
was a great dancer. I didn't think I was, but I liked her telling me that anyway. But then some junior boys started trying to dance with Shannon, and she stopped, so I stopped, and then Kendra did too, but Emma, Wanda, and Peggy decided to let the boys dance with them.

Then more and more people showed up, and no one could walk without bumping into someone, and the music got louder even though no one had room to dance, except four sophomore girls jumped on the couch and tried until Katherine yelled at them.

Kendra and I decided to step outside because we wanted to breathe actual air. “Are you having fun?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, though I don't know if I believed her because I knew I wasn't having fun anymore. I hadn't seen Peggy since the boys started dancing with her, and Shannon had disappeared into the backyard with some of the upperclassman stoners, and Kendra and I had just been standing in a corner, people-watching, and not able to talk because it was too loud. Then Kendra said, “I still feel like I'm in junior high and just pretending to be in high school,” which was EXACTLY how I felt, or at least really close.

That's when I saw a group of four boys walking toward the house under the shadows of the trees, and I don't know why I cared about these four—I mean, there were a million boys in the house, but I just kept watching them until they stepped into the light.

Then he looked at me. The boy in the back.

Trevor.

Gosh. He looked so handsome outside of school, and I wanted to cry, but actually, not really, what I really wanted to do was go talk to him, and pretend I was cool, and like I didn't care that he liked Peggy, but I didn't know how to open my mouth.

Then—what was happening?—Kendra said, “Hi, Trevor,” and he said, “Hi, Kendra,” and THEN he said, “Hi, Carolina,” and even though he said my name like the state, I fell back in love with him. Not really. I mean, maybe. I don't even know what that means. I guess I really just wanted him to like me again after not caring for three days.

He followed the boys he was with, who I didn't recognize, into the house.

“How does Trevor know you?” I asked Kendra.

She must have sensed I was all twisted up inside because Kendra said, “We're in math together. He's really nice. I thought you didn't like him anymore?”

Then I told Kendra what I hadn't admitted to anyone except my own head. “I just stopped liking him because he stopped liking me.”

“How do you know he stopped liking you?”

“Katherine told me he likes Peggy.”

Then Kendra whispered something I had told myself (but apparently myself didn't listen as well as I thought). She said, “I don't think you should believe anything Katherine says.” And that's when I thought that even if Trevor really did like Peggy, I would much rather find that out from him instead of spending the rest of eternity wondering if Katherine had lied.

“Will you help me go talk to him?” I asked.

And Kendra said, “Of course,” which was amazing, so amazing … gosh. Just amazing. Then she took me by the hand, and we walked back into the party. Except there were now, literally, a gazillion people in the house—yes, I'm exaggerating, but, you know, probably not by much—and I was sure there was no way we would find Trevor.

But then, through the cracks between the twelve people that stood between us, I saw the side of his face. So we moved in that direction, but by the time we got to where he'd been standing, he had moved, and we had to spin around until we saw him, this time near the stairs, and we walked that direction, except halfway there, Henry McCarthy and his big friend Jake stepped in front of us, and Henry shoved his finger in my face. “You didn't come to my game!” he yelled. Everyone had to yell to be heard at the party, but his yell wasn't very nice.

“I had soccer practice,” I said.

“I don't care!” he said.

Jake said, “Girls shouldn't play sports!” And he laughed, and Henry laughed too, and I realized that even if Henry was the coolest person in the world and the only boy who would ever like me, I'd still rather be alone and a geek.

“We have to go,” I said, and tried to step by him.

“I think you owe me a kiss. We lost because you didn't show up.”

“She doesn't owe you anything,” Kendra said.

“Who do you think you are, new girl?” Henry said.

“She's my best friend,” I said, and I didn't mean to say “best,” but maybe I did.

Then Jake said, “What happened to Peggy? You get jealous because she's having sex with Carl Zerrela?”

“She is not!” I yelled, and hit him, even though I'd never hit anyone.

Henry didn't say anything, but his face made me so sick to my stomach—he knew something, something about Peggy—so I pushed by him, holding tightly on to Kendra. We got to the stairs, and there was Trevor, and he smiled at me, I think, but I was too worried about Peggy so I said, “I have to go check on Peggy,” and then …

Trevor said, “I'll help you,” which was weird, but then I thought, well, obviously he wants to help because then he gets to see Peggy.

I let go of Kendra's hand as I ran up the stairs, but she ran just as fast, and Trevor was right behind both of us, and I turned and flung open Peggy's bedroom door and there on the bed was Wanda with a junior boy. The boy's shirt was off and Wanda only had on her underwear and bra. And Peggy was on the floor with the same junior that she had been dancing with. He had pulled off her dress strap so that her right boob was hanging out and her skirt was hiked up to her belly button. Peggy was so pale, and her makeup was smeared over her face like a clown.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

The junior boy on the floor said, “Get out of here!”

“Peggy!” I screamed, and got down on my knees next to her. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine!” she yelled, swatting me away, but I could see in her eyes—because we had been friends forever—that she wasn't fine.

“Get out of here!” the junior boy said again. He stood up and tried to grab me, but Trevor pulled him away from me. Trevor was taller than he was, and the junior boy wasn't quite as brave anymore.

“Carrie?” Peggy said. “I don't…” And then she threw up on her carpet. It was brown, with tiny chunks of pizza she had eaten, but mostly hot and liquid.

“Fucking gross!” the boy said, grabbed his shirt and left. Wanda and the boy she was with also picked up their clothes and disappeared. I picked up Peggy, or tried to. Kendra helped, and we took her to the bathroom. She was moaning, then she threw up again, and started crying, telling me she was sorry and how much she loved me. But then she went silent, like she was sleeping with her eyes open, and she looked so sick and scared. We wet a towel and cleaned her face, then wet another and put it against her forehead. Then I laid her down on the bathroom floor and Peggy fell asleep.

“Do you think she's going to be okay?” I asked. Kendra shrugged. I was scared. I called my mom, who answered, and I was so happy my mom was a nurse even though sometimes I hated how much she worked. I told her what happened to Peggy. I was worried she was going to yell at me for being at a party with alcohol, but my mom actually never yells, and she was calm and had me check Peggy's breathing and pulse and eventually she said Peggy would be fine. She just needed to sleep.

So Kendra and I helped Peggy back to her room, and put sweatpants and a sweatshirt on her, and turned off the light. Kendra whispered, “My mom's here to pick me up. Do you want a ride?”

I said, “I think I should stay a little while longer.”

Kendra said, smiling, “I think you should talk to Trevor.” I had—honestly!—forgotten about him after Peggy started throwing up. Kendra and I hugged, she left, and I watched Peggy sleep for a long time, maybe ten minutes, before I thought she was fine and maybe I should see if Trevor was still at the party.

So I closed Peggy's door behind me and put up a Post-it note that said
KEEP OUT
so no boys would go in there, and walked back downstairs. It was still so crowded, and I thought, even if Trevor was here, I would never find him, and he probably went home anyway and that's when I heard a police siren, saw the spinning red lights, and someone yelled, “COPS!”

And whoooosh, all the gazillion people started running toward the doors at once, and jumping out the windows, and people screamed from getting smushed, and something crashed. Luckily, I was on the stairs, and so I just stepped backward and watched everyone flee as if the house were on fire. I didn't run because, well, I thought someone shouldn't.

By the time two police officers stepped through the front door, I was the only person there.

“You live here?” one of policemen asked.

“No,” I said. “This is the Darrys' house.”

“Where are the parents?”

“On vacation in Wisconsin.”

“What's going on?” a voiced yelled, stumbling out from the basement. It was Katherine. She was drunk, and angrier than usual. Which is a lot. The senior boy that had grabbed her ass before was behind her, shirt off, but when he saw the cops he ran out the back door even though he didn't have shoes on.