Ten (4 page)

Meg held her pinky out to Minnie, who stared at it for half a second as if deciding whether or not she wanted to let her bitchiness go. Then with characteristic impulsiveness, Minnie threw her arms around Meg’s neck and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she said, then sighed. “I guess I just freaked a little when I saw him.”

“I know.”

“Between that and you leaving me …”

Meg shook her head. “Mins, I’m not leaving
you
.”

“But you’re leaving.”

That was it, plain and simple. Meg was leaving. In seven months she’d be starting a new life in LA, and as much as she tried to pretend in front of Minnie that that wasn’t what was happening, they both knew it was true.

“It’s not like I’m going to Europe or something,” Meg said.

“You might as well be.” Minnie stuck out her lower lip in her patented pout. It was a move that made boys sweat. “You’re going to find a new best friend and forget all about me.”

“A, that’s not going to happen. B,
that’s not going to happen
.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, Minnie.”

“And you’re not into Teej?”

“Didn’t we just pinky swear?”

Minnie hugged her for a second then broke away. “Because, if you
were
interested …”

“Minnie!”

“If you
were
,” she continued with a smirk, “I’d have to warn you—that boy has the biggest—”

“Mins!” Meg plugged her ears with both index fingers. She did not want to hear a firsthand account of T.J.’s boy parts, especially not from Minnie. It was bad enough to know that Minnie and T.J. had drunkenly hooked up at a party, worse hearing a replay of it. “I’m not listening. I’m not listening. I’m not listening.”

Minnie flopped on her bed in a paroxysm of laughter. “I just meant—” she gasped. “For your first time you might want—”

“I’m not listening!”

Minnie rolled onto her back and laughed even harder, and despite herself, Meg joined in. She fell backward on her own bed and the two friends giggled like kids until the tension and fatigue of the day had completely drained out of them. It was moments like this one that reminded Meg of why she loved Minnie so much. Their lives had grown in different directions, but deep down they were still two goofy twelve-year-olds who laughed at the same stupid jokes, protected each other, and were totally, utterly inseparable.

As they calmed down, Minnie reached out to Meg. “I’m sorry.”

Meg squeezed her friend’s hand. “I know.”

“Friends still?”

“Always.”

“Good.” Minnie rolled off the bed and smoothed her skirt. “Let’s go downstairs. I’m freaking starved.”

SIX

LAUGHTER DRIFTED UP THE STAIRWELL AS
Minnie and Meg wound their way down to the ground floor. They followed the hallway to the back of the house and found themselves in a spacious family room, amply furnished with overstuffed couches and easy chairs. The walls were lined with bookcases, and an enormous fifty-inch plasma television mounted above a wood-burning fireplace was lit up with the latest zombie-massacre-alien-invasion-first-person-shooter-apocalypse video game.

Two guys sat on opposite sofas, controllers in hand, eyes fixed on the game. One looked like your average skinny shredder who spent mom and dad’s money most weekends up at Whistler—tight thermal shirt, baggy jeans, and long, stringy hair he kept tossing out of his eyes with a violent flip of his head. The other was a big Samoan dude. Really big. Like linebacker in the NFL big.

As they entered the room, the skinny guy caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye. He did a double take, then paused the game.

“Ladies,” he said. “Welcome to Paradise.”

If Paradise was two dudes playing video games in the middle of nowhere, Meg was going to take a big old Pasadena on that.

Minnie placed a slender hand on her hip. “Does Paradise come with a beer keg?”

“Bottles,” the skinny guy said, standing up. He reached a hand up under his Hollister T-shirt and scratched his belly as his eyes traveled from Minnie to Meg. “Can I get you one?”

“She doesn’t drink,” Minnie said.

“Too bad.” He continued to stare at Meg, then a sly smile stole across his face. “Does she talk?”

Meg narrowed her eyes. As much as she hated being on the spot in front of strangers, she didn’t like the way this guy was looking at her. “When I need to.”

“Oooo,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “A sassy brunette. Papa likes.”

Ew.

NFL linebacker kicked the sofa on which his friend had been sitting. “Dude. Finish the damn game.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, resuming his seat. He continued to smile at Meg. “More later.”

Minnie grabbed Meg’s hand. “Come on.”

She led Meg through the L-shaped room to where the rest of the guests were gathered in the enormous stainless-steel kitchen that ran along the north side of the house.

Gunner and Magenta Hair were dancing to an electro-metal track blaring from a set of iPod speakers on the counter. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Magenta Hair had one hand leisurely draped around Gunner’s neck while the other gripped a bottle of Stella. Ben leaned against the far wall, also with beer in hand, and was laughing with a tall, angular Asian girl whose limbs seemed too long for her body. A Stepford Wives-y–looking brunette with a sensible bob and sensible pink J. Crew cardigan buttoned up to her neck stood on tiptoe, examining the contents of the kitchen cupboards.

T.J. sat on a barstool at the island in the middle of the room. He jumped to his feet as soon as they entered. “Hi!”

Five heads all turned in their direction, with the exception of Gunner, who stared intently at a spot on the refrigerator.

“You get settled in okay?” Ben asked. He walked across to the iPod dock and dialed down the volume. Meg noticed his eyes never even rested on her, just went straight to Minnie.

“Yep,” Minnie said, matching his smile. “The room is gorge.”

Meg hid a grin.

T.J. touched her elbow. “You need a drink?”

“Nope,” Meg started. “I’m—”

“I’d
love
one.” Minnie made a beeline for the fridge and yanked it open so fiercely the bottles of condiments on the door rattled against one another. She took a cursory glance at the interior and crinkled her nose. “Where’s the beer?”

Here we go
. “Minnie, why don’t you wait ’til we get some food first?”

“No, thanks, Mom,” Minnie said with a sly smile. “I can handle it.”

“I’ll grab you one.” Ben dashed out the kitchen door to an enclosed patio. Meg heard the slight suction of a fridge door opening, then Ben reappeared, practically falling over himself to hand Minnie her beer. As he popped the cap for her, Minnie dropped her eyes and batted her mascaraed eyelashes in a display of false demureness that would have made a southern debutante proud. Then she grabbed the beer from his outstretched hand and chugged it like a frat boy. Classy.

The girl with the sensible bob opened the fridge and rearranged the bottles Minnie had knocked askew, then bent down and opened a drawer. “Did anyone see any cucumbers in here?”

Magenta Hair snorted. “What do you need cucumbers for? We’ve got a house full of dudes.”

Minnie and Ben burst out laughing, but Sensible Bob continued to search through the fridge. “They’re for the salad,” she said, clearly not getting the joke.

“Of course they are,” Minnie said. She reached out her finger and poked Ben in the stomach.

Magenta Hair leaned into Gunner. “So
that’s
your ex?” she said in a poorly disguised whisper.

Minnie paused midsip. “Yeah, I’m in the room.”

Meg flinched. Minnie hadn’t even finished one beer and she was already primed for a fight.

“Um …” Gunner sounded stumped, like the simple question of whether or not Minnie was his ex-girlfriend confounded him. “Um, yeah. But it’s totally over.”

“Totally,” Minnie confirmed. She reached out and traced her fingers down Ben’s lanky arm as if to emphasize the point. “He’s all yours, if that’s what you’re into.”

Magenta Hair straightened up. “What the f—”

“I’m Meg.” She dashed forward, intercepting Magenta Hair before she crossed the room and pummeled Minnie’s face with her bare hands. “Minnie and I are at Kamiak with Gunner. Um …” Meg glanced at Gunner, who was turning bright red. “As you probably already knew.”

Magenta Hair eyed Meg’s hand for a few seconds, then tentatively stuck out her own. “Kumiko. I’m at Roosevelt in Seattle.” She pointed to Sensible Bob. “That’s Viv.”

Sensible Bob closed a cupboard with a bang. “Vivian,” she said sharply.

“Right,” Kumiko said with a smirk. “Sorry.”

Vivian ignored her. “I’m a junior at Mariner.”

“Mariner?” Minnie said. “That’s were they found that body in the locker room.”

Vivian winced. “Yeah.”

“Have they identified the body yet?” Meg asked. The idea of someone’s family not knowing that their kid was dead really bothered her.

“Not yet,” the tall Asian girl said. “When we left on the ferry, no one had been reported missing. We should probably check the news later for an update.”

T.J. placed his hand on the small of Meg’s back. “That’s Lori,” he said quietly.

“Scary shit,” Kumiko said.

Vivian placed a stack of nesting bowls on the counter. “I know. I hope they won’t suspend classes on Tuesday.”

Really? She was worried about missing class after someone was murdered on her school campus?

“I’m sure we’ll have class on Tuesday,” Ben said. He rubbed Minnie’s back.

Vivian spun around. “You go to Mariner?”

“Yep.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Lori said. “Haven’t you seen him around?”

Vivian’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, you go to Mariner too?”

Ben laughed. “Yeah, where have you been? Lori was the soloist in the spring choir concert last year.” He smiled at her. “You were awesome, by the way.”

Lori’s face lit up. “Thanks.”

“Really.” Vivian seemed totally unconvinced that two people could go to her school and she didn’t know them.

Kumiko leaned on the counter. “Do you think they’re lying about where they go to school?”

“Did I say that?”

“Kinda,” Meg blurted out. T.J. laughed.

“Well,” Lori said softly. “We’re not on debate team, so you might not have noticed us.”

Vivian waved her hand dismissively toward the living room. “I know those two guys and
they’re
not on the debate team.”

The skinny guy came charging through the kitchen. “Which two guys?” He didn’t pause but made a beeline for the beer cooler on the patio. His large friend sauntered into the kitchen without a word.

“That’s Nathan,” T.J. said, then nodded toward the NFL linebacker. “And this is Kenny.”

Nathan reappeared, two beer bottles gripped in each hand, and smiled broadly at Meg. “What’s up, babe?”

Double ew.

Meg felt T.J. stiffen. “This is Meg.”

Nathan moved his beer-laden hand up and down, mimicking a handshake. “We’ve met.” Then he elbowed T.J. in the arm. “I’m digging the chicks-to-dudes ratio here.”

Chicks? Really? Meg bit her tongue.
Don’t call him a douche bag. Don’t call him a douche bag.

“Do you think it’ll get even better when Jessica shows up with half the cheerleading squad?” Nathan continued.

“Meg goes to Kamiak with me,” T.J. said, ignoring the question. Was it Meg’s imagination or did he emphasize the last two words?

Nathan backed up a few steps. “I dig it.” Meg wasn’t sure if he meant her or chicks in general, but shockingly, Nathan didn’t elaborate. “Dudes,” he said, tossing a beer to Kenny. “What is this, a library? This is supposed to be a fucking party. Let’s rock this!”

He bounded over to the speakers and turned them up as he chugged down half his beer. Then he grabbed Vivian around the waist and started to freak her like a dog in heat.

“Stop it!” Vivian shrieked. She looked mortified, but at the same time, she wasn’t trying very hard to get Nathan off of her.

“Come on, sexy mama,” he said in a fake pimp voice. “Don’t you want to rip those pearls off and get wild?”

Meg couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of the douchey Nathan and the prim Vivian as a couple. It was so ridiculous she couldn’t have put it in one of her stories for fear of it seeming too unbelievable. Gunner and Kumiko joined in the dancing, as Kenny made his way silently across the kitchen toward Lori. He whispered something in her ear, and she blushed from chin to hairline.

Meanwhile, Minnie and Ben had disappeared completely out onto the patio. Uh-oh.

“You okay?” T.J. asked.

Meg craned her head to see if she could get a glimpse of what Minnie was up to. “Yeah, totally.”

“Having fun?”

“Sure,” she lied. “You know, people watching.”

T.J. flashed his dimply smile. “Writer.”

Vivian finally managed to extricate herself from Nathan. “Jerk,” she said. “How did I end up at a party with you?” But Meg noticed her eyes were laughing.

“Same as the rest of us,” Lori said. “You don’t turn down an invite from Jessica Lawrence.”

Nathan leaned against the island, panting, and cracked another beer. “You loved it.”

Vivian ignored him. She yanked the fridge door open and eyed Meg. “You know how to cook?”

Meg bit her lip. It was a well-known fact in the Pritchard household that Meg should never be allowed in the kitchen. Her involvement in family dinners usually ended in botulism or a fire extinguisher. “Not really.”

Vivian grabbed two bags of lettuce out of the fridge and tossed them on the counter. “Okay. You can do the salad.”

Gee, thanks.

SEVEN

AS SOON AS VIVIAN BEGAN ORGANIZING A DINNER
production line in the kitchen, Nathan and Kenny made a break for the living room. Kumiko and Lori weren’t so lucky, and got assigned garlic bread duty. T.J. stirred the pasta sauce, and when he wasn’t preoccupied with “helping” Kumiko spread garlic butter on a baguette, Gunner occasionally remembered to check in on a pot of not-yet-boiling water.

Minnie and Ben continued to be M.I.A. Crap. If word got back to Jessica that Minnie was hooking up with her boyfriend it was going to be a train wreck.