Flirting with Boys (14 page)

He looked down at her like he'd forgotten who she was. “Oh yeah. No, look, just stop freaking out, okay? You want to come hang out with us?”

She stared up at him in disbelief. “No, Travis, I have
to go
run a party
,” she said as if talking to someone very, very slow. “I cannot go
hang out
right now.”

He shrugged, totally missing the sarcasm. “Okay. See you later.” He turned and headed back to where Kevin was still waiting for him. Celeste watched as they slapped hands and then pushed through the doors. All should be well now—Mila Rotterdam calmed down, Travis and the guys safely out of the way—but somehow, Celeste couldn't stuff down the sense of disaster that was swiftly growing inside her.

C
eleste pushed through the little gate around the deck. The pool area looked amazing. Torches flared all around the perimeter, throwing their glittering light into the perfect, still water. The lounge chairs had been removed, and easy chairs and low, padded stools had been scattered about in their place. The palm frond arches stood in different corners, with soft blue couches underneath them. At one end of the deck, the tent stood gracefully, blue and green lights strung underneath it. At the other end, the band was tuning their instruments on the stage. Sloan caught Celeste's eye as she walked past, and actually nodded. Overhead, the desert sky was sprinkled with stars, like a gorgeous velvet blanket studded with diamonds. The air was deliciously warm and
soft and scented with pine carried in from the desert sands just behind the resort boundaries. Celeste spotted Nick leaning against the bar at the far end, near the huge white screen.

She went up to him. She knew she had a huge smile pasted on her face, and she didn't care. She couldn't resist doing a little ballerina twirl as she approached, making the full skirt of her silk dress flare out. He was twisting a glass beaded with moisture in one hand, but when he saw her, he quickly set it down on the wooden bar. He inhaled as she stood in front of him. There was a pause as they both looked at each other. “So, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing at the scene around him.

“It looks perfect,” she said.

A big grin lit his face. He stepped forward and took her arm. “Come here. I want to show you everything.” He placed her hand on the crook of his elbow as they slowly strolled along the perimeter of the pool deck. The bartender and waiters lounging against the fence looked up and smiled as they passed. The breeze lifted Celeste's hair and caressed the back of her neck. She only half listened as Nick pointed out the bar, the drinks table, the catered food laid out in long rows. She was very aware of the scratchy wool of his suit sleeve under her hand, and the warmth of his arm underneath. As he turned toward her for a second, she inhaled. Cedar. Celeste stared at Nick's face as he described dealing with the catering
chef. His blue eyes, so piercing in the sunlight, looked dark and velvety in the twilight. His white teeth flashed as he spoke.

“Mmm.” Celeste nodded in agreement, even though she'd heard hardly anything he'd said. She moved a step closer to him and hugged his arm a little. All of a sudden, Nick stopped talking. They locked eyes. Then, without thinking, Celeste lifted her face toward Nick's lips. He tilted his head down to hers.

Suddenly, the clash of dishes at the bar woke Celeste from her spell. She looked around. The first guests were trickling in, some still clutching glasses from the other party. Celeste and Nick could hear little “oohs” of appreciation as they took in the scene. “I can't believe it's really starting!” she whispered excitedly.

Celeste's parents came through the gate and hurried over to Celeste and Nick. The Saunderses followed close behind.

“Celeste, Nick,” her father said. “This all looks fantastic. I have to say, you two really rose to the occasion.” He clapped Nick on the shoulder and gave Celeste a squeeze.

“Absolutely,” Mr. Saunders concurred. “Excellent work, both of you. We had wondered if giving Nick his own movie screening was the right thing to do, but after seeing how you both have pulled this together, I'm very happy we did.”

Nick beamed. Guests were pouring through the gate now, laughing and talking. Sloan started the band on a fast, up-tempo song, and some people began dancing in an open space on one side of the deck.

“All right, we need to circulate,” Mr. Saunders said. The four parents wandered off in different directions, all with welcoming, friendly smiles fixed on their faces.

Celeste grabbed Nick's hand. “Come on,” she said. “The screening's not going to start for another half hour. Let's go sample the dessert bar before all the raspberry cheesecake is gone.”

“Okay. What the—?!” Nick's reply was lost as he stumbled backwards. He made a choking sound as a hand spun him around by the collar of his shirt.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend, you piece of shit!” Travis bellowed, shoving Nick to the ground. He reeked of beer. Celeste could almost see the waves of drunkenness pouring off him. “Get up!” Nick staggered to his feet, rubbing his neck, and Travis drew his fist back to punch him.

“Travis!” Celeste screamed and grabbed his arm. He didn't even pause, just socked Nick in the jawbone. Nick staggered but didn't fall and, launching himself through the air, flung himself on Travis. Both of them fell heavily to the deck, cracking one of the teak boards under the force of their combined weight. Celeste screamed again before thinking in the back of her mind
that she shouldn't be attracting more attention to the fight than it was already getting.

Nick and Travis rolled over and over on the pool deck, punching each other as hard as they could. An interested crowd was gathering around them, people still clutching drinks as if they were watching the Rumble in the Jungle. Nick managed to get on top of Travis and, straddling him, punched him hard in the face. Travis groaned and then heaved himself upright, grabbing Nick's shirt in both hands. He yelled. Celeste could see where they were heading—right for the giant white screen perched at one end of the deck. She closed her eyes and heard a crash and a whooshing noise.

When she finally dared to peek through her eyelids, the screen was gone. Only a white tangle of vinyl lay on the ground, with a large, thrashing lump underneath it. As everyone watched, the lump began moving and slowly, two heads emerged from the edge. Nick and Travis struggled to their feet. A murmur ran through the silent crowd as Celeste's father stepped forward. For a long, painful moment, he studied the two figures in front of him, Nick, dripping blood from his nose and Travis cradling his elbow. Then he turned around, and with a brilliant smile, waved his hands at the crowd.

“So sorry about this, everyone,” he said calmly, his voice carrying even to the farthest gawkers on the edge of the crowed. “We were concerned you all might get
bored before the screening, so we arranged this little extra—ah—
entertainment
.” He smiled and everyone laughed. “Please enjoy the rest of the party.”

People started turning away, talking to one another and glancing curiously at Nick and Travis, who still had not moved. Celeste's stomach was churning and her hands were icy cold. Her dad's nose was white around the edges and the back of his neck was red, but those were the only outward signs of his anger. To any other observer, he looked completely relaxed. Celeste could see the Saunderses over her father's shoulder, their faces set stonily.

Mr. Tippen turned to the group. “Why don't we all step into the office for a moment?” he said calmly. Mr. Saunders nodded his head slightly in response. The parents turned and wove their way through the crowd, with Nick, Travis, and Celeste following behind. Celeste felt like she was the one who had been in a fight. Her mind was numb, except for the vague feeling that she might throw up at any moment. Travis bumped her arm as they walked, and she jerked away. She couldn't even look at him, much less bear the thought of him touching her. Nick walked right behind. Celeste could hear his ragged breathing. She threw him a quick glance and he raised his eyes briefly to meet hers. To her shock, he winked at her. Celeste whipped her head around.

Mr. Tippen let everyone file in front of him into the
little, cramped office and then firmly shut the door. Celeste held her breath as he turned to face the assembled group: Mr. and Mrs. Saunders standing next to the desk, Celeste's mom on a straight chair, Nick slouched in the corner, and Travis on the sofa. Slowly, Mr. Tippen strode over and stood in front of Travis.

“Well, Travis,” he said quietly. “You've used up your three strikes this time—and then some. Surely this was the finest display of immaturity that Pinyon has ever seen.” His voice remained even, but Celeste could see his eyes flashing. Travis stared straight ahead at the wall. Celeste wasn't sure just how drunk he still was. Mr. Tippen went on. “If you haven't ruined Pinyon's first film festival, you've certainly tried your best.” He paused and Celeste caught her breath. There was something about the deadly calm tone that was far worse than yelling. “Naturally, this is the last time I ever expect to see you on Pinyon premises,” he said. “Please leave now.”

Travis started to get up from the sofa, but before he could, Mr. Tippen turned to Celeste. Travis dropped back on the cushions as if he'd been shoved. Celeste cringed as her father's gaze fell on her with a thunk. “Celeste,” he said. “You have shown spectacularly poor judgment in your constant defense of this young man in the past. At your urging, I agreed to allow him to work at Pinyon this summer and I did not fire him after his first fight with Nick here. I hold you—”

“Wait!” Nick jumped up from his chair. All heads turned toward him.

There was a moment's silence. Then Mr. Tippen said, “What is it, Nick?”

Nick looked at Celeste. “Uh, I have to make a confession.” He was sitting at the very edge of the sofa, his back straight and his hands clasped between his knees.

More silence. Celeste realized she was holding her breath.

Suddenly, Nick's posture relaxed. He sprawled back against the cushions in his old cocky way and stretched his legs out in front of him. A lazy grin spread across his face. “I wouldn't be a man if I let someone else take the blame.”

Mr. Tippen glanced quickly at the Saunderses. “What are you saying, Nick?” Mr. Saunders asked, his voice rising slightly.

“Dude, it wasn't Travis.”

Mr. Saunders blinked.

“It was me who put the pepper in the old lady's food.”

No one spoke.

“Hey, she deserved it,” Nick said into the silence. “She was way too annoying.”

“But why pepper, Nicky?” Mrs. Saunders whispered. Her face was white.

Nick shrugged casually. He didn't look at Celeste.
“Why not? We had all the VIP stuff written down—all the food allergies and stuff were on there.”

Celeste shook her head. It didn't make any sense. Why would Nick throw away everything they'd worked on? Her brain was whirling. Then in her mind's eye, she saw Nick strolling across the room to talk with Travis and his buddies at the cocktail party. Was that what he had been doing? Plotting out a stupid, stupid, immature prank? She stared at Travis. He was sitting up in his seat, his eyes wide.

“Travis?” Celeste said weakly. He clamped his mouth shut and stared at a corner of the room. Nick watched him for a second and then went on.

“Look, I'm sorry, okay? I told Travis and the rest of the guys to try some of this wicked vodka I got from my friend, and I guess it was too much for him. The fight wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for all that booze. I was just having some fun. So, it wasn't Travis's fault at all—or Celeste's.”

Celeste could see Nick trying to catch her eye. She shot him one furious glare and then stared straight ahead.

“Oh.” Mr. Tippen looked momentarily thrown off balance. He glanced at the Saunderses. It was a different situation if the son of his famous guests was causing trouble. “Er—”

Mr. Saunders stood up. He turned to Celeste's parents. “Let me apologize on behalf of my son,” he said
tightly. “His mother and I are shocked and ashamed.” He turned to Nick. “Go home,” he ordered. “The screening is canceled. Go back to the guesthouse right now. We'll discuss your punishment later.”

Nick looked as if he'd been punched in the stomach all over again. The blood drained from his face. He opened his mouth but his father exploded.
“Go!”
he yelled, his composure gone. Nick scurried to the door and wrenched it open. It whooshed shut behind him.

Celeste wasn't sure if she should scream or just start crying. Nick must have done it. He must have never even cared about the screening, or he never would have risked losing everything. Her father harrumphed and cleared his throat a few times.

“Well, all right,” he said. Slowly, he sank down to sit behind his desk, moving as if he were a very old man. “All right, then,” he repeated. “I suppose you may go, Travis. Celeste, go with him. I, ah—well, good night.” He waved his hand at them.

Out in the mostly empty lobby, Celeste turned to Travis. She was about to apologize for suspecting him of the prank and blaming him for the fight, when she saw the silly expression on his face and the glazed look in his eyes. “Travis,” she said, leaning in close, “are you still drunk?”

He swayed on his feet slightly and shook his head a few times. “Hey, babe, no, I'm fine.” He tried to grab her
but missed and almost pitched forward onto the tile floor. Celeste just managed to catch him around the waist. Together, they staggered several steps forward and back, like the world's worst dance partners, before Travis finally got his balance.

“Oh my God,” Celeste said. “Travis, get a hold of yourself. Come on.” She pushed open the doors and wrangled her two-hundred-pound boyfriend out onto the path. She draped his arm over her shoulder and steered him toward the staff quarters. She could hear the remnants of the ruined party in the background. Travis almost took several dives into the bushes at the side of the paths, but after a few tense minutes, they made it to her parents' bungalow. “Here,” Celeste panted, unlocking the door and shoving Travis inside. “You can sleep in my room tonight. Mom and Dad won't be back until late.”

“Yeah!” Travis mumbled, his eyes already drooping. He swiped at her. “Sounds good, babe….” His voice trailed off and his knees buckled. Celeste grabbed him again.

“Travis! Do not go to sleep right here. You have to get down the hall.”

Travis headed straight for the bed once in Celeste's room. Still wearing his shoes, he collapsed on the flowered comforter and immediately fell asleep. Celeste flicked on the bedside lamp and stood staring at him for a long time. He was lying on his back, and his lips
flapped like two sausages as he snored. He smelled of sweat and stale liquor.