High School Hangover (8 page)

The light illuminates black patent leather dress shoes, black dress pants, a white dress shirt and black jacket. A kidnapper in a tuxedo. I try to remember what Leo was wearing last night in hopes that I really ended up in some strange place with him. I vaguely remember him wearing shorts, but maybe he changed. Please God, let this be Leo.

Waking up somewhere strange and not having a clue about how I got here is not okay. This is exactly why I knew going to that stupid party would backfire on me. I’m completely stalling because I don’t really want to see the face of the sleeping tuxedo wearer. What if it’s some nut job wearing one of those
Scream
masks? I will completely lose my overflowing bladder all over. I ease the light farther up, holding my breath. The beam glows over a familiar silhouette, sleeping peacefully, looking angelic even though he probably has horns under that mop of curly hair. Startled, I drop the flashlight and it starts to roll away from me.

I scramble to pick it back up quietly, not wanting to wake him up. I flash the light back over his face to be sure I didn’t imagine it, careful not to put it right in his eyes because I’m not ready to deal with him yet. He’s wearing the most ridiculous black top hat, and I hate how cute he looks.

How in the world did I end up stuck in the back of some sort of vehicle with Jack McAllister? He must have drugged me. Okay, maybe not drugged me because Jack doesn’t do drugs, but maybe he told me there was a hurt puppy in the truck and I climbed inside and then he shut the door and trapped me in here. It’s the only logical explanation.

I move the light off Jack and toward the back of the truck to see if I can possibly escape before he wakes up. It probably isn’t the best decision, since we are moving, but I’d rather be road kill than spend a minute alone with Jack. But there is no handle. The entire door has to be pulled up…from the outside. That means Jack is a victim here, too, unless he paid the driver to take us somewhere. But where? And why?

I could give Jack one good tap with the flashlight to wake him up and ask him. But I need a bit more time to acclimate to my situation without him aggravating me. I would never admit it to Jack, but he has some weird effect on me that makes my normally rapid-firing brain cells sputter a bit. So I need to make sure I bring my A game before he wakes up. I can’t show him any of the pure fear I’m feeling and hopefully this stupid little prank of his will be over and I’ll be back to the party before Leo realizes I’m missing.

I’m sure this whole thing is Jack’s stupid version of
Punked
but that doesn’t explain my killer headache and passing out. I move the light around from side to side seeing nothing but boxes. Jack and I are actually surrounded by them and if someone opened the back of the truck they wouldn’t even know we were here unless we popped out at them. Jack sure went to a lot of trouble to carry out this little scheme.

The splinter of light from the flashlight is cutting into my pounding head, so even though I don’t want to shut it off, I need to get a little relief. I lean my head back against the cardboard boxes and try to remember the last thing I can remember doing. We hit a bump and I hear some of the boxes shift, but Jack doesn’t seem to move a muscle. My hair gets tangled in between two boxes and I gently pull it out. That’s when I realize that my normal frizzy hair is back and not the silken locks that Mom worked so hard on. That could only have happened if my hair got wet. I went swimming. Of course, I remember now. I had the entire pool to myself. Jack threw a hot dog at me. Then something happened and everybody went running inside.

Inside, where Leo and Amelia were. Now it’s coming back to me. Jack and Erika practically ran Leo off, forcing him to start getting chummy with Amelia. Okay, so he didn’t really
have
to get chummy with Amelia, but if they wouldn’t have bothered us, Leo would never have gone inside with Amelia. I have an almost uncontrollable desire to punch Jack in the face, but that would wake him up.

Although, I’m not quite sure how much longer I’m going to be able to keep up this charade because I have to pee so bad it’s about to come out my eyeballs. An idea pops into my head. But I couldn’t. It would serve Jack right though for dragging me away from the party. He definitely deserves some payback. I turn the light back on and stagger to my feet gripping the edges of boxes with one hand to steady myself. It’s not easy to do with the constant movement underneath me.

These dreadful heels of Mom’s I’m still wearing get snagged on something so I focus the light down and see my purse. My heart soars knowing my phone is inside and this will all be over soon. Maybe I’ll even press charges against Jack for taking me against my will. Okay, probably not, but I’ll be tempted. One-handed, I unzip my purse and retrieve my phone. I push the on button but nothing happens. It’s completely dead. How can it be dead? I’m obsessive about keeping it charged in case Dad calls. I flip it over and slide the back off to see my battery is missing.

That’s it. I’m totally going ahead with my idea for retribution against Jack. A few boxes tip over making an opening. I attempt to straddle the remaining boxes and climb over but my dress is making practically any movement impossible. I remember Mom’s dress being fairly tight but this is ridiculous. I shine the light on my dress to reveal a full-length, strapless evening gown covered in gold sequins and not the emerald halter dress I had on earlier. It’s exquisite even though I feel like I’m suffocating in it. The sweetheart neckline plunges making it very apparent I’m no longer wearing a bra. This is not good. I swear, if I find out Jack saw me naked, I’m going to kill him.

This dress is so tight I can only take baby steps or I’ll blow it out and the last thing I need is to be half naked when Jack comes to. I hobble over into a claustrophobic aisle and make my way carefully through the maze of boxes, shining the flashlight on them to read their inscriptions. All this stuff must belong to Jack’s family. Maybe they had to move again. I almost feel guilty but then feel the sequins brush against my skin reminding me that Jack is not to be pitied, especially if he has seen any of my unmentionables. I see a box marked Zander’s bedroom that I throw open but it only yields Star Wars themed bedding. I’ve heard that name before. It had to have been from Jack. I bet that is his little brother’s name. I continue on my mission and the flashlight beam lands on a towel draped over something in the corner. I make my way over to it, careful not to make any noise because I still haven’t rehearsed what I’m going to scream at Jack when he wakes up.

I lift up a corner of the towel to reveal a large plastic bin with a grated metal door. The light shines inside the bin onto something pale yellow and lilac-colored. I don’t know what it is but the smooth texture reminds me of a pair of Mom’s outrageously expensive shoes. I move the light further in the bin when it reflects back at me in a pair of ruby red eyes. A sliver of red forked tongue flicks out causing me to fall backward and tumble into a box. I wiggle out of the box shining my light back toward what I now know was a cage to make sure the giant snake hadn’t suddenly formed opposable thumbs and opened the cage to come after me.

I clutch my chest and try to resume normal breathing while getting as far away from that cage as I can. In another corner I spot a fat Oriental vase that is exactly what I was looking for. I gather the skirt of my newly acquired ball gown and squat on top of the vase. This isn’t my finest moment by far, but when I think of how priceless it would be to see the expression on Jack’s face when his mother asks him why her favorite vase is filled with pee, I don’t have any problem releasing my bladder into the vase. It feels so good not to have to hold it anymore that I accidentally drop the flashlight and it rolls away. I’ve broken the seal now so there is no stopping midstream to retrieve it.

I can still see a small sliver of light as it rolls away so I’m not too worried. I must have drunk my weight in punch last night. I wonder if Jack was right about me overdosing on caffeine and that’s why I can’t remember everything right now. I felt fine in the pool and I didn’t drink any punch after that. At least I don’t think I did. I’m so confused about everything. I bury my throbbing head in my hands and continue filling the vase. It dawns on me that I didn’t have any underwear to pull down before hopping onto the vase. That means I’m completely naked under this dress. Holy crap, I am not the kind of girl who wakes up missing her underwear. What in the world happened to me last night?

“Dimples, what are you doing?” Jack asks, shining the light right on me.

*****

“Stop calling me that,” I rant, after I’ve screamed at Jack to move away from me so I can drip-dry and fix my dress. “Is this your idea of a joke? Kidnapping me and holding me hostage against my will?”

“Calm down,” he orders, which ignites my temper further.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Do you know how many people are probably looking for me? How long have I been gone? You’re going to jail for this, you know?”

He shines the light right in my eyes, nearly blinding me, but doesn’t say a word. I swear he is the most irritating person alive.

I take a few deep breaths and try to calm down since it is obvious Jack isn’t going to end this until I do. “Can you please tell me why you put me here?” I ask calmly, gritting my teeth.

He turns the flashlight up to the roof so the beam illuminates most of both of us. He rubs his free hand over his face like he is deeply considering my answer. His expression freaks me out more than if he would have whipped out a Joker-like smile and immediately admitted to being the mastermind behind my mysterious abduction.

“Laney, I didn’t put you in this truck,” he says so genuinely that I can’t convince myself, for even a second, he’s lying.

I feel myself deflate like a popped balloon. I thought for sure Jack was behind all of this. Now I have to admit to myself that I may have made some stupid decisions last night that somehow led me here.

“How did you get here?” Maybe if I can retrace Jack’s steps, I can figure out how they intersected with mine.

He drops the flashlight and it rolls over to a plastic-covered hanging rack. Even through the plastic I can make out fur coats, evening gowns, and several men’s suits. A feather boa escapes out the side reminding me of Zander’s snake. “Do you have a brother named Zander?” I ask him.

“No, I have an older sister,” Jack answers, retrieving the light.

Oops. I wonder whose vase I peed in. I decide not to mention the snake we are hitching a ride with, just in case Jack is more of a girl than I am.

“Listen, we need to talk about getting out of here,” Jack says, glancing nervously at his watch.

“What time is it?” I ask, not really sure I want to know the answer by the way he’s acting.

“It’s a little after ten,” he answers, not looking at me.

Okay, I can work with that. Erika and I got to the party about six and I remember sitting outside at the pool for an hour or so, then I went inside and watched Leo play poker for a few more hours, so I couldn’t have been here that long. I feel better already.

“In the morning,” he finishes.

It takes a few seconds for what he said to work its way into my brain. That means it’s the next day. The day after the party. I feel like a kindergartener trying to learn the concept of time. How could I have lost nearly twelve hours? Erika must be going out of her mind with worry. What if she called Mom? Actually, that wouldn’t be so bad. It would serve her right for kicking me out of my own house for the entire weekend.

“How did you get here, Jack?” I repeat, realizing he never answered me.

“I drank a lot last night. Everything is fuzzy,” he says hesitantly, not making eye contact. He tugs open a few of the top buttons on his dress shirt and I force myself to look away. I was so ready to accuse him of playing a joke on me, but now he seems like he is confused about our situation, too.

“This can’t be happening,” I say, starting to panic as I realize that Jack doesn’t know what is happening either. Valedictorians do not lose twelve hours of their lives. They do not wake up dressed in strange clothes. They do not forget crucial pieces of information like how they got into a moving vehicle with their nemesis while wearing no underwear.

“You’ve got to calm down,” Jack says, resting his hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I wish I could believe that he is capable of handling this situation but his past track record isn’t so stellar.

“What if someone kidnapped both of us to sell as sex slaves?” I ask, gripping Jack’s hands. “That stuff really happens, you know,” I say, breathing so hard I’m getting dizzy.

“Stop it,” Jack demands, letting go of my hands and putting his on my face. “It’s not like that. We had a crazy night. We’re going to stop pretty soon and we’ll get out and go home. No biggie.”

I want to believe him, but I’ve never felt so discombobulated. I always have everything planned out and last night wasn’t even on my radar. I’m sure some people would probably label me a control freak but it makes me feel secure to know exactly what is going to happen from day to day. I even pair up my underwear and socks on Sunday nights and label them with the days of the week so I’m always prepared.

Wait a minute. I’m not wearing any underwear. A horrifying thought crosses my mind. “Did we…?” I ask, pure fear registering on my face.

“You don’t remember?” Jack asks, keeping his hands on my face.

“Oh my God! This can’t be happening,” I shriek, pulling away from him and starting to rock back and forth.

“Wow, this sure is a self-esteem booster,” Jack kids. “Laney, I’m messing with you.”

I stop rocking. “You mean, we didn’t?”

“Who do you think I am? Leo Doolin?” he asks, looking a little peeved.

I don’t comment on his Leo slam, realizing this isn’t the time or the place. We are always going to disagree on Leo, like we do about many things, but right now we need to focus on getting out of here.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” I say, trying to keep the cringe off my face so my apology appears genuine. “Things like this don’t happen to me. My idea of a crazy night is staying home and highlighting words I don’t know in the dictionary.”