Authors: Anna Cruise
With Dez.
He was leaning against a garage door, a red cup in one hand, his other positioned on her hip. She stood directly in front of him, talking to him, her head tilted to the side, clutching her own cup to her chest. He was smiling and so was she, their lips inches apart.
My heart smacked against the inside of my chest and hesitated for a moment before I walked toward them.
He noticed me first and casually dropped his hand from her hip, straightening up against the door. Dez followed his eyes and when she spotted me, she smiled and shuffled a couple inches away from him.
“Was wondering what happened to you,” Aidan said. “Thought you ditched me.”
“
I was thinking the same thing,” I said, then looked at Dez. “Hey.”
“
Hey,” she said, taking a drink from her cup. She nodded back toward the house. “I'm gonna go find Lauren. Find you guys later.”
We watched her walk down the alley and disappear into the mass of people.
I looked at him. “What the fuck?”
He raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“What the fuck was that?”
“
What? Dez?” he asked, then shook his head. “We were just talking.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he said, annoyed.
“
You had her hand on her hip.”
“
She was drunk,” he said. “I was holding her up.”
“
Really.”
“
What the fuck's the problem, Meg?” he asked, anger filtering into his eyes. “First you bail on me upstairs, now this. What the hell is going on?”
“
I didn't bail on you upstairs,” I said. “We didn't have a place to go.”
“
Bullshit. I found a place. You just didn't like it.”
“
And apparently you came down here to see if Dez was interested instead.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Dez was interested in some weed and a little coke. I helped her out. That was it.”
“Looked like you were gonna help her out a little more,” I said.
“
Oh, fuck you, Meg,” he said, then held the cup to his lips. He emptied it and fired it to the side. “I'm not listening to this shit. You've been a total pain in the ass lately and all I've tried to do is help out. I understood when your aunt tightened the reins. I understood when you had to sneak out tonight. And you know what I got for it?” He pointed back at the house. “Rejected upstairs and accused of hitting on a friend.” He stared at me, his bloodshot eyes fiery. “Thanks a fucking lot.”
His words stung me and I immediately felt guilty. My life had become a pain in the ass lately and
he was right. He had been there for it, letting me complain and whine. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I wasn't sure anymore. But there was one thing I was sure of. He was the only thing I had left. The only person who was constant, who was there. And I couldn't lose him.
I hesitated, then stepped closer to him. “I'm sorry.”
He nodded, but didn't look like he cared very much.
“
I'm serious,” I said. “I'm sorry. I'm just mad that I haven't gotten more time with you.”
He started to say something, but I kissed him before he could say it. I pressed my body into his, molding myself against him. He stood there for a minute, motionless, before finally kissing me back. Tears of relief flooded my eyes and I held him tighter to me, my hands running up and down his back, sneaking along his sides.
Eventually, I slipped my hand between his legs and he stiffened.
“
We can go to your car,” I said, whispering into his ear. “There's no one else in there.”
He pushed himself into my hand. “You sure?”
I squeezed him gently, felt him swell inside his shorts. “I'm sure. I want to make you feel good.”
He smiled at me and there was something in it I couldn't read. “You want to make me feel good?” Why?”
“Because I'm being a bitch,” I whispered into his ear. “About Dez. So let me make you feel good.”
The smile grew and there was almost an evilness to it. “Let's go.”
We found his car down the alley and we climbed into the back seat and he leaned back, staring at me, expecting me to take care of him.
“
What are you waiting for?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. “Make me feel good, Meg.”
I swallowed the doubt and unease that rose up. I didn't know why he was acting the way he was but I knew one thing. I felt guilty. Guilty about turning him down earlier and guilty about my accusations about Dez. I was confused, too, about how he was acting and how he was treating me, but I felt guilty. I didn't want him to be angry with me.
And, more than anything else, I didn't want to be alone.
So I pushed aside the fear and doubt and lowered my head. And made him feel good.
THIRTY
“
Oh, shit,” I whispered.
We'd spent almost an hour in the backseat of his car and by the time we were done, the windows were completely steamed up and it was eleven thirty. We seemed to be back to normal. He was sweet again and the anger that had flared earlier was gone. He'd chafed a little when I said it was time to go, but he didn't put up much of a fight. And I'd tried to stow away all of my fears and misgivings.
My plan was to be back early to Jada's, at eleven forty-five. Be there fifteen minutes early, stand on the front porch and play like I was just walking out when Sara pulled up.
But she'd gotten there twenty minutes early and was already parked at the curb.
I hadn't been paying attention when we pulled up to the house and Aidan had zoomed in right behind her. I saw her glance at the rearview mirror, then slowly shake her head.
“
She's already here,” I whispered. My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat, like I couldn't catch my breath.
Aidan sighed. “Shit.”
Sara got out of her car and stood at her door, staring at me.
“
I'm so screwed,” I said. My hand shook as I fumbled for the door handle and pushed the door open.
“
I knew it,” Sara said, as I came around the front of the car. “I just knew it.”
I didn't say anything.
She pointed at Aidan. “Get out.”
He hesitated, then slid out from behind the wheel and joined us in the street.
She looked him up and down. “So, you're Aidan.”
He didn't say anything, just stood there holding his keys, an insolent expression on his face.
She looked back at me. “I can't believe you, Meg. You promised me.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I know. I'm sorry.”
“You're sorry,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Right. That's a little hard to believe because this little junket looks like it took a fair amount of planning.”
My vision blurred as I stared down at the cracked asphalt.
“You blew it,” she said. Her voice was firm, angry. “This was your chance and you blew it. You lied to me in a huge way and it's going to be a long time before I can ever trust you again. If I ever trust you again.”
Aidan finally spoke. “Hey, lay off. She
— ”
“
Shut up,” Sara snapped at him. “I wasn't talking to you. And you're done with her, too, by the way.”
“
Hey, lady, I don't know who you think you are but you sure aren't my fucking parent,” Aidan snarled at her. “If I wanna see her, I'm gonna see her. And you can't do shit about it.”
Sara glared at him, then shifted her eyes to me. “Really, Meg? This guy is worth it? A guy who doesn't give a crap about you?”
“Hey, you don't know shit,” Aidan said. “If you...”
“
I don't know shit?” Sara said, her voice rising as she stepped closer to him. “I don't know shit? Here's what I know, you punk ass little shit. I know you're older than she is. I know I can smell alcohol all over both of you. And I know that if you really gave a shit about her, you wouldn't have had her lie to go out tonight.”
Aidan's face went red beneath the streetlight, but he didn't say anything.
“So you wanna mouth off to me, play tough guy?” Sara said. “You go right ahead. But you're done with Meg as of right now. She may not be able to see you for what you are, but I do. So you go on your merry little way and go play tough guy somewhere else. Now.”
“
You're a fucking bitch, lady,” he muttered.
“
You better believe I am,” Sara said, laughing. “And you're only getting half the show.”
He stared at her for a long time, then looked at me. Tears were streaming down my face and I couldn't say anything.
Finally, he shook his head, got back in his car and drove off.
Sara stalked around the side of the car and opened the car door for me. She stood there waiting, a murderous expression on her face. I slid into the seat and slumped against the door when she shut it. She walked around and got in on her side. She jammed the key in the ignition, started to shift the car into drive, then stopped.
“Meg,” she said, her voice quieter now inside the car.
I slumped harder against the door, my body shaking as I cried.
“Meg,” she said again. “This isn't going to happen.”
I glanced at her. “What isn't?” I said, my voice tight and garbled.
She stared straight ahead, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. “I'm not going to let you turn into your mother.”
THIRTY ONE
I didn't say a word when we got home and ran straight to my room. I didn't turn on the lights and just dove into the blankets, burying my head in the pillows, crying as hard as I ever had. I kept expecting Sara to come in and flip on the lights, but she didn't and at some point I ran out of tears and passed out.
I woke the next morning, my eyelids stuck closed, adhered by a mixture of salt and makeup. My hair was a rat's nest and my entire body ached. My stomach growled and sand still clung to my feet beneath the sheets. The sun streamed into the window and warmed my face, forcing me to acknowledge that it was time to surface, to wake up and face the day.
I kicked off the sheets and blankets and walked to the bathroom. I looked like a raccoon that had lost a fight. I washed my face, scrubbing it entirely clean and then took a brush to my hair, pulling through the knots, the pain of brushing them out my own special sort of punishment. I stripped out of my clothes and put on a pair of cotton shorts and an old Chargers T-shirt. I went back into the bathroom and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I didn't want to think of what was waiting for me beyond the safety of my bedroom and the bathroom but I knew I couldn't hide forever. Because Sara would eventually come looking for me.
I took a deep breath and, before I could change my mind, hurried out to the kitchen to face Sara.
She was standing at the stove, a skillet full of eggs in front her. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I mumbled and slid into a chair at the table.
She dumped the eggs onto two plates and pulled toast from the toaster oven. She set the plates on the table, then grabbed two glasses of orange juice from the counter and set them next to the plates.
“I was just about to come wake you,” she said, sitting down.
I took a long drink of the juice. I'd figured as much.
She stuck a forkful of eggs in her mouth, chewed, staring at me thoughtfully. She washed them down with her juice and set the glass back down on the table. “So.”
“
I'm sorry, Sara,” I mumbled. “I don't know what else to say.”
“
That's a start,” she said. “Tell me exactly what went down last night.”
I considered what my options were. I briefly contemplated trying to come up with some story that might explain the lies I'd told her, but I decided against it. I'd lost all credibility with her and I thought she would see through anything false that I tried to throw at her.
So I told her the truth.
Sara didn't fly off the handle. She listened carefully, watching me, probably looking for signs of any more lies. But I told her that I'd come up with the plan all on my own, that I'd asked Jada to cover for me if necessary and that Aidan had agreed to pick me up and bring me back from the party.
She didn't say anything for a few minutes after I was done talking and her silence made me even more nervous.
“
I guess I could ask why,” she finally said. “But I think I know the answer to that. Because you felt like I was being too strict and you wanted to go.”
I wasn't sure if I was supposed to answer or not, so I kept quiet.
“So why don't you just tell me about Aidan instead,” she said.
I wasn't expecting to hear that. “Aidan?”
She nodded.
I shrugged. “I already told you about him.”
“No, you didn't,” she said. “You gave me his name. His age. Told me where you met. That's not telling me about him.”