Lipstick Apology (28 page)

Owen pulled me toward him, leaning down to kiss me. “Check you out,” he said, sliding his hands over my textured thighs.

The ponytailed girl from the living room watched intently.

I met her eye and reached up to give Owen another kiss.
There,
I telepathically told the ponytail girl,
I
am
enough
.

Owen shoved a blue plastic cup in my face. “Drink?”

“No, I'm good,” I said, watching Aidan walk across the room with a blue cup in each hand, foam overflowing at the tops. He crossed the kitchen to a long table and plopped a cup down in front of Andi. She waved over his shoulder at me.

“Hey, girl!” Andi said. “Have a seat!”

“Oh, I'm waiting for Carly. She's in the bathroom,” I said.

I saw an unidentifiable look pass across Andi's face. Her eyes darted to the left, then back to the table. She looked down and massaged her cuticles. “Okay,” she said softly, not making eye contact with me.

I followed her glance to the far left corner of the kitchen. There, propped up against the black granite countertop, was a large, white, dry-erase board. It was clearly supposed to be hidden by a cabinet door, but someone had pushed the door aside so you could see the whole thing. Across the board a grid was drawn in navy blue marker. Down the left side about fifteen guys' names were written. Dollar amounts were quoted in the next margin. It was obviously some kind of a bet. Initially I figured it was a sports bet like the football bets Owen always talked about. But then my heart stopped when I saw what was printed across the top of the board in big, block letters: CARLY.

The writing in the right margin was smaller and not legible, so I walked closer to the board. Andi's arm shot out and grabbed my sleeve. I yanked my arm away, my heart picking up speed as I approached. I could feel Andi's eyes following me. I pushed past a burly guy shuffling a deck of cards on the counter.

“Hey, watch it!” he growled.

I ignored him, squeezing in closer to the counter. My stomach turned and horror rose in my chest. I saw what was written beneath Carly's name:
Will the cow give Ethan a ride?

Across from each guy's name and dollar amount, a prediction was made. How far could Ethan get Carly to go?

Dave—$500.—Kiss and run (for your life!)

Chris—$500.—Naked, above the belt

Ethan—$750.—All the way, baby, with her tent-size underwear balled up on the floor

The list went on and on.

I stood there frozen, trying to comprehend such cruelty.

Just then, I saw the bathroom door open down the hall and Carly emerged, rosy and smiling. I felt the air stir in the kitchen as all the guys noticed her too.

“It's go time,” I heard someone say.

A blur of Owen's navy shirt swirled past me.

My heart was beating so fast I was sure it was popping in and out of my chest like in a cartoon. I looked over at Owen. He was staring in Carly's direction, patting Ethan on the shoulder.

Ethan grabbed a cup. “Better fill this up,” he said.

“Maybe not, dude.” Aidan laughed. “She might just be willing.”

Ethan shuddered. “I meant for
me.
I need the drink, moron.”

They laughed.

I scanned the room, frantically searching for Lindsey. I spotted her talking to a girl from her homeroom. I pushed through the circle of guys toward her. Owen grabbed my arm, but I pushed his hand away, darting toward Lindsey.

Andi chased after me. “Em, it's just a joke.”

I whipped around to face her. “A joke?” I said, my voice rising.

“Shhh,” Andi said, holding her manicured finger up to her mouth.

I stared at her in disbelief. “You think this is
funny
?”

Lindsey came over. “Hey, what's going on?” she asked, eyes darting back and forth between me and Andi.

“They,” I said, pointing toward the guys. “They are getting ready to humiliate Carly.”

Andi was quiet, looking across the room toward Aidan.

I grabbed Lindsey's hand and pulled her across the room to the bet board.

She stood there, jaw dropped. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “We have to get Carly out of here.”

Our eyes shot back toward the living room. Carly was attempting to walk into the kitchen but was stuck behind the kissing couple who had migrated from the front door.

I turned toward Andi.

She looked over toward Aidan, then back toward us.

I raised my eyebrows as if to say,
Are you coming?

But she didn't move.

So Lindsey and I turned and left Andi standing in the kitchen. We shoved our way into the living room.

“Quick,” I said. “Whip up some tears.”

“Huh?” Lindsey asked.

“Just do it!” I commanded as we pushed the slobbering couple out of the way.

Carly saw us and lit up. “I was wondering where you guys were!”

I grabbed Carly's arm and spun her around, away from the kitchen. “We've gotta go.”

“What?” Carly said, dumbfounded. “But we just got here.”

I jabbed Lindsey. She sniffled.

“Crisis,” I whispered. “Lindsey just saw her boyfriend kissing another girl.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Carly asked Lindsey.

“Um—well,” Lindsey stammered.

I yanked both of their arms toward the door. “COME ON!”

I know I heard footsteps approaching. I know I heard protests from the kitchen. I know I heard Owen calling my name. But I didn't stop. I opened the apartment door, propped it with my foot, and pushed Carly and Lindsey out into the hallway.

“Um, maybe I should just say goodbye to Ethan,” Carly said. “He doesn't even know that I came.”

Lindsey flared her nostrils, wrinkled her forehead, and quivered her lip. “I can't believe that jerk! And he just told me he loved me!” She let her head fall into her hands. “Ooh, I thought I loved him!”

Carly patted her back but looked longingly at the door.

“Tell you what,” I said. “I'll run inside and tell Ethan what happened and that we have to go. Okay? You stay here with Lindsey; I really don't want her to be alone.”

“Ooooooooh. Aaaaaah,” Lindsey wailed into her hands.

I opened the door a sliver and squeezed in, not wanting Carly to get any glimpse of inside. I decided I would find Owen and tell him that I was really upset that he participated in this joke and that we would have to talk about it tomorrow. I started to walk toward the kitchen, then froze.

I saw the back of Owen's blond hair and his shoulder propped against the wall. With his left hand he twirled the chestnut-colored ponytail of the girl we saw earlier. Her hands were wrapped around his waist. As she threw her head back and laughed, Owen leaned in closer, almost touching her neck with his nose.

I stood there, watching my boyfriend fall all over some other girl.
I guess I wasn't enough
, I thought miserably, a well of tears filling my eyes. Then Jolie's words rang in my ears:
To those kind of men, you are replaceable.

I whipped around and walked out the door.

Lindsey and Carly were squatting down on the floor.

“It's just that . . . I trusted him.” Lindsey fake-sniffled as Carly patted her back.

“Okay,” I said. “Let's go.”

They got up and we took the elevator downstairs and hailed a cab home.

 

“WE WISH YOU
A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS, WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.” Jolie and Trent were singing at the top of their lungs, dancing around an enormous evergreen whose limbs were bending at the ceiling and protruding into the fireplace.

“Oh, Emily, you scared me,” Jolie said, dropping an ornament onto the carpet.

“Sorry. Hi. Wow, looks like we had a visit from some elves. Is it me or is it still only December 5th?” I said, looking around at the huge, retro colored lights strung across the door frame.

“Don't knock the spirit, sugar. It's important to be ahead of the curve with one's Christmas planning,” Trent said, laying a long string of red beads around my neck.

“Why are you home so early?” Jolie asked while placing a silver ornament on the tree. “I thought this party was
going to be huge.
Not that I was eavesdropping or anything.”

“Oh, it wasn't that great,” I said, and took off my coat. I headed to my room to call Georgia, ignoring their questioning expressions.

“Please tell me you're not locked up in a bathroom, ready to puke again,” Georgia said as soon as she answered the phone.

I opened my mouth and the entire day's events just spilled out of me, starting with getting ready with Carly and ending with our fake crisis escape route.

“Wow.” That was all Georgia said. And not many things render Georgia speechless.

“I feel like such an idiot,” I said, feeling the tears prick the corners of my eyes.

“Why do
you
feel like an idiot? Because Owen was hitting on another girl?”

“I just don't understand. Five minutes earlier he was all over me.” I gurgled on my tears again. “I just thought he might actually like me.”

Georgia sighed.

“And then the bet—the things he wrote—I guess I didn't know him at all.”

It was quiet for a moment, then Georgia spoke. “Remember that summer when you and I decided we were going to bake a blackberry pie?” She said randomly.

“Uh-huh,” I said, wondering how a pie would relate to my current crisis.

“And remember how my mom kept telling us to wait, that the blackberry trees weren't ripe yet, but I insisted they looked so plump and juicy?”

“Yeah.”

“And then my mom in her snide little way said that if the deer weren't eating them yet, we really shouldn't . . .”

“Georgia, is there a point to this little trip down memory lane?”

She exhaled with exaggerated annoyance. “Remember how you popped a few blackberries in your mouth?”

“I do.”

“And as much as it pains me to admit my mother was right, just because the berries looked perfect on the outside didn't mean they were perfect on the inside.”

God, why did Georgia have to be so insightful?

 

I LAY IN BED
later that night, thinking about how Lindsey hadn't hesitated to abandon the party simply because she wanted to help me protect Carly—someone who Lindsey barely knew. But Andi, on the other hand, torn between her loyalties, ultimately chose her boyfriend. And Carly gave up all chances of romance to comfort Lindsey, a virtual stranger.

How well do we really know anyone?

I had always assumed that Jolie was single and career-minded by choice, not because she repeatedly ended up with the wrong guy. And given Trent's focus on fashion and flair for drama, I was completely unprepared to see the softer, kinder side of him. Maybe I'd spent my whole life failing to see people as they really were. After all, Mom's letters and picture revealed a side of her I never thought existed. I spent every day of sixteen years with them, but did I ever really know my parents?

I thought back to the day on the cold, concrete steps of the Metropolitan Museum, lost in my anonymity. Maybe we were all just strangers, I thought, passing each other by but seldom taking the time to truly understand each other.

THE REVENGE OF MY MOUTH
returned the next morning.

I glanced over at my unused night guard lying on the dresser.
I'm such an idiot.

I gently pried my locked jaws open to slide some Advil down the back of my throat, then ambled out into the kitchen.

Jolie was standing in front of a frying pan. She turned toward me with a spatula in her hand. “Look! I'm making a healthy twist on the Egg McMuffin!”

I stared down at the frying eggs, turkey bacon, and fat-free cheese in the pan and at the plate of toasted whole wheat English muffins.

She scooped up the eggs and turkey bacon and cheese and layered them into a sandwich on the muffins.

“I didn't even break the yolk,” Jolie said triumphantly.

I sat down at the kitchen table. Why did Jolie have to have her first successful attempt in the kitchen on a day I couldn't open my mouth more than an inch wide? I forced a smile. “Mmmm. Looks great.” I took the heel of my hand and squeezed the sandwich down as flat as a pancake. Yellow egg yolk oozed out the sides of the muffin.

Jolie watched with a crestfallen expression.

I continued as if everything was normal. I broke a tiny sliver of the sandwich, slanted my head to the side, and gently slid the food between my lips. I swear my jaw creaked.

“Okay,” Jolie said abruptly. “What's going on?”

“What?” I faked ignorance. “This is so delicious.” Too bad my eyes were welling up.

“First you come home from your big party after like ten minutes,” Jolie said. “Then you lock yourself in your room on the phone all night. And now you're acting all strange and robot-like.”

“No biggie. My jaw is hurting again this morning. Just a little,” I said, trying to act nonchalant.

“Have you been wearing your night guard?”

“Well,
most
of the time.”

Jolie's lips straightened into a thin line.

“Don't worry about it,” I said. “It hasn't been bothering me at all. I had a bad night. Bad night's sleep, I mean. I might have ground my teeth a little.”

Jolie stared at me.