The Sea of Tranquility (39 page)

The picture in the frame is a perfectly rendered charcoal drawing, just like the photograph, only bigger. Even though it’s black and white, I watch my mother’s eyes crinkle with her smile and I see my sister breathe, and for a moment, I think they’re alive. It’s Clay’s work. There isn’t a question. And there’s only one person who could have given him that photograph. But she isn’t here, either, because she left me, too.

She has no right to do this. To make it harder for me to hate her, because I need to hate her right now more than I need anything.

“I forgot how hot your mom was,” Drew says, because he detests uncomfortable situations and his way of dissolving the tension is to remind us that he’s an ass. And I love him for it.

Mrs. Leighton smacks Drew’s arm. His father comes around and smacks his head and then pulls Mrs. Leighton to him and kisses her hair.

And I go home alone.

***

It’s been five weeks since she walked out of my house. I started counting the second the door closed. I wonder when I’ll stop.

***

“So who’s Corinthos having killed now?” Drew walks in after school and crashes on the other end of the couch. I switch the TV off because I’m not watching it anyway and I really just don’t care.

“So,” he asks, after waiting through the requisite fifteen seconds of silence, which is the maximum Drew can stand. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?”

“No,” I say, because it’s true. Because it’s the last thing I want to talk about. Because I might actually cry if I do, and honestly, because I really don’t know what the hell happened. “I’m probably not.”

Drew nods and doesn’t argue. I know she’s been avoiding him, too, even in debate. “I miss having her around.”

“Get used to it,” I say and I turn the TV back on.

CHAPTER 48

Nastya

I turn away from the mirror to catch Drew walking into the girls’ bathroom in the back corner of the drama department. The drama teachers have planning this period and I’ve learned that this bathroom is almost always empty. So it’s my favorite.

“I assume we’re alone,” he says, turning and locking the door. “You know this is like the fourth bathroom I’ve looked for you in. I was starting to fear for my safety.”

“Seriously, Drew?” I whisper and it’s barely audible because I don’t care if he locked the door and no one’s around.

“I miss you,” he says, like this is a valid excuse.

“You’ll live.”

“You miss me, too. Admit it, Nastypants.”

He’s right. I miss the crap out of him.

“What is that, anyway? Nastypants? You make me sound like I shit myself.”

He looks down at my jeans as if he’s considering this.

“I’m here to drag you out of your social abyss.”

“You’re here to ask me for a favor, so get on with it, because I don’t like talking here.”

“I need your bodyguard services this Friday.”

“No, no, and no again. And wait. Hold on a second. No.”

“What if I say please?”

“What if I say no?” He’s trying to give me the look, but he and I are so far past the look that it’s ridiculous. “You don’t need me to get you through one night. Just tell everyone you’re meeting me after. They’ll buy it.”

“No one will buy that after you and Josh. No one’s going to believe I’d do that.”

“There’s nothing you wouldn’t do.”

“That’s the
only
thing I wouldn’t do and everybody knows it. The only person in the world I wouldn’t screw over is Josh.”

“We’re not talking about it, so stop bringing up his name and trying to insinuate him into this conversation.”

“He is in this conversation whether I say his name or not.”

He holds his hands up in surrender at the glare I shoot him. I will not talk about Josh.

“Fine. All I have to say is that I thought I had self-destructive tendencies but you two make me look well-adjusted.”

“Is he alright?”

“Actually I’m pretty sure he’s the opposite of alright, but I’m also pretty sure that you knew that when you asked.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nope. Not playing this game. You’re the one who made the rules. Not going to talk about Josh.” He makes himself comfortable on the bathroom counter like we’re in his kitchen at home. “Now, subject at hand. They don’t need to think that I’m with you. I just need you to come and keep me in line. If you don’t, I’ll end up walking through the house, asking every single person if they’ve seen her. And then I’ll probably say shitty things about her just to have an excuse to say her name or get her attention.” He doesn’t say her name now but it’s no secret who he’s talking about. “You have to save me from myself. And save yourself from utter boredom and solitude in the process. Win-win.”

There isn’t any win for me in this situation. I’d rather staple my lips to my tongue than go to a party tonight. I climb up next to him on the counter and let out all the air in my lungs and he does the same.

“I should just go back to the way I was before,” he says. “I used to be so awesome and she made me suck.”

“If that’s what you want, do it. Start tonight. You won’t have any problem finding some girl willing to accompany you on the road back to soulless debauchery.”

He doesn’t respond, because he and I both know what he lost on that path already, and he hasn’t forgiven himself for it. I don’t know if there’s another solution but I try to offer him one.

“Isn’t there another girl you can ask out? For real? Try to have a normal relationship? You messed everything up with Tierney, but you could actually try to learn from that and do it right this time.” It’s an asinine suggestion. If he told me to learn from my mistakes with Josh and put that knowledge to use with someone else, I’d dislocate his jaw. But it’s all I’ve got to go with right now. “What about Tessa Walter?” I suggest.

He shakes his head. “Crazy eyes.”

“Macy Singleton?”

“Laughs too loud.”

“Audrey Lake?”

This time he glares at me like I’ve just suggested he date the Antichrist.

“She says
supposably
.” If Drew Leighton were a woman, this would be his unforgivable thing.

“So why don’t you just try again with Tierney?” She’s the only one he really wants. I could name every girl in this school and he would find the flaw in every last one of them.

“I can’t ask her to forgive me. I wouldn’t respect her if she did. I don’t deserve it.”

I don’t deserve it either. I’m not enough of a hypocrite to argue.

“Can’t we just skip it? You don’t have to go. You never even drink at these parties. Why would you want to hang out with a bunch of drunk assholes for no reason?” It’s true. It took me a while to pick up on it, but once I did, I never stopped noticing. Drew gets a drink as soon as he walks in and he carries it around the whole night, so everyone assumes he’s drinking, but he never is.

“You noticed that, huh?” He’s almost impressed. “You’re the first one.”

“I’m guessing there’s a reason.” I’m expecting him to say something about having to drive, but that’s not what I get.

“Kara Matthews,” he answers, like this explains everything, but he knows it doesn’t and I wait for him to give me the rest. “I don’t even remember doing it. Tierney ripped me to shreds for hours that day and she was right. She was right about everything she said about me, except the fact that I didn’t care about her. But everything else she nailed me on. I got so lit that night that I would have screwed anyone at that party. I shit all over Tierney and everything and I don’t even remember doing it.”

“And you think if you weren’t so drunk you wouldn’t have done it?”

“No,” he replies honestly. “I probably would have. But at least I’d know. If I was going to mess everything up, at least it would have been a conscious choice.”

It makes perfect sense to me. He may not revel in the pain he caused himself but at least he could say that he chose it. That’s not the only thing that haunts him, though. There’s a question there, too. The slim, slight possibility that, just maybe, he wouldn’t have done it. Maybe if he hadn’t been so wasted things might have turned out differently, and he would be with Tierney right now, not in a girls’ bathroom being haunted by dead possibilities.

He shrugs in resignation. “I figure the next time I want to completely destroy all chance of happiness, at least I’ll remember doing it.” It’ll make the self-loathing that much easier.

***

I could say that I have no idea why I agreed to this, but it would be a lie. I miss Drew, too. And I’m sick of myself. I’d rather drink flat beer and hang out with people who don’t like me. No one at that party will hate me as much as I hate myself, so it’ll be an improvement.

It’s crowded already when we get to Kevin Leonard’s house. The music is blaring and I wonder how long this can possibly last before the neighbors call the police. I hope they do, so I can leave, because I already regret it. I don’t mind all of the people. I actually do better with crowds and numbers but the noise makes me edgy. I need the quiet to hear what’s coming.

I follow Drew through the house, my fingers threaded through his belt loops so I don’t lose him. He wants me on him tonight, I’m on him.

Damien Brooks finds us first and I can’t stand him but he’s at least familiar.

“Drew!” He’s already drunk. One word and it’s evident. “Damn. I know you had her first but I didn’t think you’d go back there after Bennett. Man, you’ve got balls.” He’s laughing and congratulatory. Drew’s laughing, too. I’m not even in the room. Oh, wait. I am, but you wouldn’t know it the way they’re talking. Good thing I don’t give a shit.

Then Damien’s eyes go wide like he’s just discovered the atom or the concept of self-pleasure. “Have you guys been sharing her this whole time?”

Maybe I do give a shit. At least a little. Because I’m not listening to this anymore. I grab Drew’s hand and start to pull away. I think he’s had enough, too, because he doesn’t fight me.

And then there’s Tierney. The sniper I’m being used as a human shield against. I actually really like her and I wish I wasn’t the person being tasked with keeping Drew away from her. I don’t blame her for wanting to hate Drew, but it doesn’t mean she does. All of a sudden I wish they could just get their shit together, but my hypocrisy slaps me in the face before I can think any more on the subject.

We make it to the kitchen at the back of the house where Kevin Leonard is manning a keg with a crowd surrounding it. They start chanting Drew’s name like he’s their god, and I guess if I was a teenage boy with no game, he’d be mine, too. It takes no time before we have cups full of warm beer and are fighting our way back out of the kitchen.

An hour and four and a half crap beers later, I’m leaning against a wall while Drew talks to a girl in a very tiny, very sparkly top, who has no problem shamelessly flirting with him in front of me. True to form, Drew is still carrying around the same half-full cup of beer he’s had since we walked in. I’m not completely trashed, but I’m tired and I want to go home. I’m tipsy enough that my brain isn’t bombarding me with a diatribe on how idiotic I am. Instead it’s whispering that calling Josh wouldn’t be so bad. Drunk dialing the perfect, incredible, wonderful boy I pissed all over might even be enough to win me a gold medal in selfishness. I don’t get to fully explore that thought, though, because I’m back on duty.

Tierney starts walking in our direction and sparkly tank top girl walks away. Tierney’s like that. No one really fucks with her and I want to hug her and tell her I think she’s sooooo awesome and maybe I’m a little drunker than I thought. I didn’t eat today which might account for that. Rookie mistake.

I step over to put my half full beer on a really ugly end table (I notice these things now); I don’t need to drink any more. Once I can pull Drew away from Tierney, I will have fulfilled my responsibilities and I can get him to take me home.

When I turn around, Drew isn’t there. And neither is Tierney.

I start pushing my way through the throng of people, looking for either of them. I figure one will lead to the other, but it’s not like I can walk around yelling their names and asking if anyone has seen them. I’m staying against the wall, out of the center of the chaos, when Kevin Leonard finds me.

“Enjoying the party?”

Huh? Is he expecting an answer? I give him a stupid thumbs-up and try to keep walking. Drew Leighton so owes me something for this. I start mentally making a list of what I want. There’s only one thing on it, so far, but I think it’s out of his control.

“Wanna have sex with me?” Kevin asks. This was not the one thing on my list. I try to walk around him and his monstrous ego. He’s obviously plastered and I’m getting more sober by the minute. I really want to go home and I want to kick Drew’s ass. I’m not sure which of those things I want more right now and Kevin Leonard is still talking.

“We can go to my room. I blocked off the upstairs. No one will know.”

I’ll know, jackass.
And I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to block it from my memory.

“Come on, baby.” Guess that’s my answer. Real boys do call girls baby. Too bad I don’t feel like laughing and I don’t have time to choke him. “Please.”

Does he think I’m looking for manners now? Well, since you said please, I may have to reconsider my previous
hell no
stance on screwing you. I was just waiting for the good breeding to kick in. I shake my head as definitively as I can and keep moving. Mercifully, he gives up and doesn’t follow me.

He did give me an idea, though, because if I can’t find Drew in the next ten minutes, I’m not waiting around to be propositioned again. I’ll find another way home.

The next ten minutes are as fruitless as the last. I even give it another ten, just for shits and giggles, before I finally concede defeat. I walk the downstairs, and at least a few people have started to filter out so it’s not as jam-packed, but the music is still tattooing itself on my eardrums and splitting my brain. I shoot off a text to Drew asking where he is but I don’t get any response. I send him another one telling him I’m sneaking upstairs to try to find a ride. I still don’t get an answer.