Read Private 03 - Untouchable Online
Authors: Kate Brian
Ariana's eyes were back on me like that. Her lips were thin and white.
"I understand that everyone is watching you," she whispered. Her grip tightened like a claw. "Now, you can either be a weakling who turns and runs, or you can be strong and face this. Your choice."
I knew which one she wanted me to be. Which one even I wanted me to be. The question was whether or not I was up to the challenge.
I turned around slowly and scanned the room. Most of the people who caught my eye quickly looked away. I forced myself to look at the pictures again. Thomas had led such a full life . . . and I had known nothing about it. I had never known he had traveled so much. Never realized that he and his friends were so close. Never known who his family was. Never known how many girls he had been with.
I caught a glimpse of Thomas and his face-licker and was overcome with jealousy and a severe sense of emptiness. Not a single
photo had ever been taken of me and Thomas. We hadn't been together long enough, or I hadn't been important enough, for us to be captured on film together.
The moment I thought this, I felt deeply ashamed. How could I stand here feeling sorry for myself? Thomas was dead. He would never have any of these experiences again. All because some psycho out there had felt the need to end his life. God, what I wouldn't give to look that person in the eye and rip his heart out.
"Deep breath," Ariana said. "You can do this."
I inhaled slowly through my nose. Let Ariana's confidence cool me. Across the room, Gage smirked in our direction. He and Dash both sported suits and loosened ties and looked very proud of themselves, even as Noelle ranted at them.
"Let's get something to drink," I suggested.
"Now you're talking," Kiran said.
This time, I led the way. When we got to the drink table, I dunked a cup directly into the punch bowl and sucked the fruity liquid down my dry throat. Kiran took a moment to slip out her flask under the table and spike her drink and Taylor's.
"Nice work," I said to Gage. "You guys should go into funeral planning."
"It is the only business where you're guaranteed a nonstop flow of customers," Gage replied lightly.
This boy needed a good ass-kicking. Like yesterday. Maybe Noelle should have let them go after Thomas's townie.
"You need to take down the pictures, Dash," Noelle said,
apparently attempting to regain her composure. "It's Tim Burton--level morbid."
"What? I think it's cool," Dash said, admiring his handiwork. "We're supposed to be celebrating Thomas's life. Well, this was his life."
"It's creepy," Kiran said, shuddering as she took a sip of her punch. "It's like he's staring at us."
"From beyond the grave," Taylor put in.
Gage scoffed. "And the Oscar for superfluous drama goes to--"
Dash laughed and the two boys slapped hands. "Nice!"
"This from the guys who were forming a lynch mob just days ago," Noelle said, rolling her eyes.
"I don't understand you, Noelle. Did I or did I not ask for your help planning this, and did you or did you not turn me down cold?" Dash asked, squaring his broad shoulders.
Noelle's eyes narrowed. I felt a lovers' spat coming on. "What's your point?"
"My point is, you didn't want to get involved, so now you don't get to complain about it," he said.
Noelle's mouth fell open. Dash looked mighty proud of himself. No one, not even Dash McCafferty, rendered Noelle speechless very often. Could it be that the balance of power in this relationship was shifting? You could practically see the hope in his eyes.
"Why don't you girls all down some of Kiran's secret stash and unclench?" Gage said, with his usual subtlety. "Meanwhile, we'll be
over here letting Dean Marcus congratulate us on a job well done."
Gage slapped his hand down on Dash's shoulder and tugged him away. Noelle fumed silently as she watched the guys lope casually across the room. She wasn't big on making scenes, but I knew Dash was going to pay for that one later. Possibly, she was already plotting her revenge.
"I'm sorry about this, Reed," she said. "I suppose etiquette and testosterone cancel each other out."
I took a sip of my punch and set the glass down on the table. 'You don't have to apologize for them, Noelle," I said. "It's good, actually. Ariana's right. I need to face this head-on. I need to stare right into the face of the guy who said he loved me and then lied to me and was then brutally murdered. In fact, I think it'll make the whole mourning-process thing that much easier."
"Reed--"
I was ranting. Billings Girls didn't rant.
"I'm going to the bathroom now," I told Ariana. "Or does that make me a weakling too?"
She opened her mouth to speak.
"Actually, forget it. I don't care," I said, cutting her off. "I'm going now, and when I get back, I'm going to dance."
"I'll be ready!" Kiran said, raising her glass.
My eyes were dry as sand as I wove my way back through the room. Reality was finally setting in on me. Thomas was gone. And even when he had been here, I had been just a blip to him, a nothing.
A nothing who seriously had to move on.
PLEASANT DEVELOPMENT
"Are you all right? You look like you're evaporating," Josh said, handing me a glass of iced punch.
I was taking a break from my cathartic dance ritual and my skin was beaded with sweat, but it felt good. It felt like I was getting something out of my system. I just hoped whatever it was didn't smell.
I took a sip of the fruity punch and watched Noelle, Kiran, and Taylor, who apparently still had stuff to work out. They were all out there, hogging the center of the dance floor. I saw a few non- Billings girls shooting them snide looks behind their backs, but whenever one of my friends turned their eyes on the same girls, they were all smiles. Such power.
"I'm fine," I said casually. "What do you think of the decorations?"
Josh looked around. "I'm gonna go with cool but eerie."
I smirked. "Where's that one from?" I asked, lifting my hand toward the shot of him and Thomas all dressed up. I tried to look
at Josh instead of Thomas. Pretend Thomas wasn't there. Pretend I was just a-okay, hunky-dory, peachy-keen. All phrases my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Cornerstone, had used on a daily basis.
"That was Penny Halston's wedding the week before school started," Josh replied. "The guy she married has some stake in the Anheuser-Busch Companies, so they had bottled beer at the reception. Thomas snagged, like, a whole dolly full of cases and stayed up all night drinking, just to see how far he could get."
I shook my head and looked at the floor. Were there any Thomas stories that didn't include him being wasted?
"When we found him at dawn, he was lying on the eighteenth green, singing 'Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer' and flinging the empties into a sand trap," Gage said with a laugh, joining us.
"Almost killed one of the landscaping crew," Josh added.
"Whatever. Like twenty stitches is such a big freaking deal." Gage took a slug of his drink. "Kid did know how to party, though. But you knew that, didn't you, Brennan?" he asked lasciviously.
He reached out as if to run his finger down my arm. Josh shoved Gage's shoulder about two seconds before I would have grabbed Gage's finger and twisted. "You have serious problems, you know that?" Josh spat.
"Look who's talking, Hollis," Gage shot back.
Josh glanced at me as if snagged. Huh?
"Back off, asshole," he said to Gage.
The last thing I needed right now was a scene. "Guys, come on--"
"Oooh. I'm so scared." Gage set his drink down. "You think I'm scared of you, freak? Let's go."
"At least I'm not pathological," Josh retorted.
"Well, maybe it just hasn't been diagnosed!"
Another shove. Even trash-talking was more sophisticated at Easton. Bigger words, subtler insults.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dash walked over with his hands raised and lowered them onto Gage and Josh's shoulders, with me in between. The man had a serious wingspan. "This is supposed to be a party. Everyone mellow out."
"Mellow out? What have you been smoking?" Gage said, still belligerent.
"Nothing. I'm just saying, what's there to fight about? All our friends are here, we've paid our tribute to Pearson, and day after tomorrow we'll be home gorging on the best food of the year," Dash said, leaning back against the wall next to Gage. "It's all good."
"Speak for yourself, dude," Gage said. He took a step back from Josh. "Somehow I don't think my mom's new Venezuelan cook is going to know how to work a turkey."
Subject officially changed. Josh's shoulders uncoiled and Gage seemed to have already forgotten he was about to tear someone's head off. Dash was good. Not for the first time, I appreciated his maturity and levelheadedness. He never stooped to join in with Gage's random mockery and insults and was always able to defuse awkward situations. Plus, he'd managed to be in a solid relationship
with Noelle for three years--an achievement in and of itself. I saw politics in his future.
"Thankyou," I mouthed to Dash. The last thing I could handle just then was a pummeling between supposed friends. I'd already had enough drama for one semester. Dash nodded in response. I looked out at the dance floor and waited for my heartbeat to return to normal.
"Has your mother ever hired an American?" Dash asked Gage.
"Mara Coolidge? Champion of the should-never-be-employed? No," Gage said.
"Well, I will be eating a nice home-cooked meal at my grandmother's manse," Dash said, glassy-eyed at the prospect. "Turkey, cranberries, stuffing, the whole nine."
"Oh, you are so the all-American boy," Gage said, reaching out to pinch Dash's cheek. "What about you, new girl?" Gage asked. He walked over to the nearest table and sat, legs spread. We all followed, Dash and me sitting between Josh and Gage, just in case of a relapse. "What's turkey day like in Bumblefuck, Pennsylvania? Turkey roll and Bud from a can?"
Love this guy. Love him.
"Dude, back off," Josh snapped.
"Josh," I said. Like, Calm down already. I appreciated the effort, but I could take care of myself. "Actually, I'm not going home," I told them. "I'm staying here."
'You are?" Josh asked. His eyebrows shot up under his curls. "So am i."
Really? This was an unexpected and pleasant development. A warm sensation prickled over my skin. I was actually going to have a friend here. Someone to eat with. Someone to talk to. And not just someone, but Josh. The two of us. Here alone. With no one to watch us or judge and comment. Suddenly, the long four-day weekend was looking much better.
"What?" Dash and Gage blurted at once. "Come on, man. The Hollis Thanksgivings are legendary," Dash added.
Josh tore his eyes away from mine and cleared his throat. I hid a smile by suddenly becoming very interested in the dance floor and fluffing my hair alongside my face.
"Not this year," Josh said, leaning into the table to better see Gage and Dash. "My parents are stuck in Germany so the kids are going to my aunt's house on the Cape and Lynn's gonna be with his girl. Neither one appealed, so--"
"So you'd rather stay here," Gage said incredulously. "Alone."
Under the table, Josh's fingers grazed mine. My heart spasmed and I turned my hand palm up on my thigh. Josh took it, cupping my fingers with his. The flush started at my wrist and shot straight up my arm and throughout my body. I tried my hardest not to smile.
"Yeah," he said with a smirk, squeezing my hand. "Alone."
OUT OF CHARACTER
The party, inevitably, got out of control. It was clear to the world that Kiran had not been the only "mourner" to smuggle in alcohol. All that was left to be determined was when the dean's gradually simmering anger would finally go nuclear, putting an end to the evening, and whether or not there would be any repercussions. On the dance floor, Kiran, London, and Vienna twirled and whirled, falling all over one another and laughing their toned butts off. Dash was dancing with himself. Missy Thurber stepped slowly back and forth, clinging to one of the guys from my history class--even though the song playing was an upbeat one--half-asleep and drooling on his shoulder. He looked down the back of her dress, undoubtedly trying to determine whether or not he could manage to unhook her bra without her noticing. Considering her present state, I gave him two-to-one odds.
Over in the far corner, Walt Whittaker and Constance Talbot were talking with their heads bent close together. They had been
there most of the night. Every once in a while Constance would smile and blush and Whit would preen, pleased with himself. Looked like Constance had finally bagged her lifelong crush. Good for her.
"Dean Marcus has checked his watch ten times in the last three minutes," Natasha pointed out. "What's he waiting for?"
"He's probably hoping we all survive until ten o'clock without anyone making a scene or passing out," Ariana replied. "He did tell Dash we could have the room until then. This way he won't have to go back on his word."