Zadie felt vindicated. Trevor was irresistible. The most prudish women in California were in accord with her. When the band finished, Snotty and Skinny came rushing back to the table, looking at Zadie. “Do you think you can get us backstage?”
Zadie wasn’t about to let these two near Trevor’s sweet innocence. “No.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Snotty said. “Let’s just wait out here. I’m sure he’ll be at the bar in a few minutes.”
Which meant Zadie only had a small window of time to talk to him without these bitches horning in. She got up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Gilda winked at her. Jane gave her a “fuck his brains out” look. Denise merely nodded. Snotty and Skinny were too busy checking their lip gloss in their compacts to notice. Helen was stealing drinks from the waitress’s tray as Betsy was putting them back.
Once she was backstage, Zadie felt like an idiot. What the hell was she going to say? Hi, Trevor. Loved the show. Wanna make out? Teachers should never be drunk around their students, but it was too late. She’d been drunk when they walked in. So there was really no point in feeling bad about it now.
She saw a group of swooning teenage girls and figured she was close. They were hovering around the doorway marked GREEN ROOM. Luckily, it wasn’t too far away from the bathroom, so Zadie could always pretend she’d gotten lost if Trevor or any of her other students spotted her. She thought about zipping in to pee, but was afraid she’d miss him, only to come back out to the bar and find Skinny kneeling at his crotch.
As she walked past the door she heard, “Holy Shit. Ms. Roberts.” She stopped, not sure what she should do. He’d obviously spotted her, so she couldn’t just keep walking. She opted for turning back and peeking in the door, but before she could, Trevor was out in the hall, beer in his hand. “I can’t believe you came.”
Zadie leaned against the wall, trying to look casual and hide the fact that she was drunk. She put a hand against the door frame to steady herself. “Hello.” It was all she could come up with.
He grinned at her. “What’d you think of the band?”
“I thought you were great.”
“It’s okay, you can be honest. We know we kinda suck. But we’re better than we used to be.” He was so self-aware for an eighteen-year-old. Zadie tried not to swoon, but the black light in the hallway made his skin look so tan and his teeth look so white.
“I think you’ve got a lot of talent.”
“Yeah? Guitar or singing?”
“Both.”
“I messed up the third song.”
“I couldn’t tell.”
He turned back to the guys in his band, sitting on ratty couches in the Green Room drinking Heinekens. “Dude, my teacher couldn’t even tell I fucked up the bridge.” They all laughed. Zadie felt stupid. Was it obvious that he fucked up the bridge? What the hell was the bridge? Why did he have to announce that she was his teacher? He looked back at Zadie. “Sorry. The drummer gave me so much shit about that. I had to bust him on it.”
Zadie relaxed. Her stupidity was prized.
“So, weren’t you going to a bachelorette party or something?”
“Actually, I brought them with me. I think you saw the bride. She was up front.”
He started laughing. “No way. That chick with the veil and the strap-on is with
you
?”
The fact that her normally uptight cousin Helen was a source of wonderment for her lewd behavior was inconsequential at the moment. She was too caught up in his green eyes. God, she liked this feeling. It reminded her of how she felt when she was a girl who went to bars and talked to cute guys instead of a woman who stayed home and hid from them.
“You guys must’ve had a few drinks before you got here,” he said.
“Yeah, we’ve been to a few bars along the way.”
“Where you off to next?”
Was he asking because he wanted to know or asking to be polite? Zadie couldn’t tell. “I’m not sure.”
“Where’d she get the strap-on?”
“The Hustler store.”
He smiled at her. In what might be construed as a lascivious grin. “Did
you
get anything there?”
“Nope. Didn’t find anything I needed.” Jesus. Could she have been any more boring? She should’ve told him she bought edible panties or some such thing. No! No! She was his teacher! She had no business talking to him about panties. Shame washed over her. It didn’t matter if everyone agreed with her that he was hot. It was entirely inappropriate for her to be talking to him in a bar. She should go. She should walk out right now.
He leaned in close to her. “Don’t get mad at me if I say this, okay?”
Her entire body froze. Completely aware that he was an inch away from her face. “Okay.”
“I was kind of glad that you didn’t get married.”
Zadie had no idea how to respond. Was he hitting on her? It
kind of seemed like he might be. Why else would he be happy she wasn’t married? Was he just a sadistic bastard?
“Why?”
He smiled at her. “I probably shouldn’t answer that. You might fail me.”
Okay … what the hell did that mean? What did it even matter? She was leaving. She was leaving right now.
She stayed rooted to her spot.
“Your final grade is based on your term paper, not on what you tell me in a bar.”
Why
was she encouraging this?
He held her eye contact for a moment, like he was considering whether or not to elaborate on his comment. Zadie felt feverish. Right at the moment that he started to speak—his drummer walked out.
“Dude, let’s hit the bar. The cooler is dry.”
Zadie couldn’t tell if she was relieved or pissed beyond reason. Trevor shrugged and looked at Zadie. “Wanna head back out there?”
“Sure.”
They started down the hall. He was in front of her and she could watch his ass as he walked. But it was no longer just a guilty pleasure. It was pure guilt. She’d come close to allowing herself to think it was okay to lust for him. It was not okay. It was bad. Very, very bad.
As soon as they reached the main room, he was swarmed by his teenage groupies. “Trevor! I love you!” He stopped to sign some autographs. Zadie spotted Amy, Brittany, and Felicia, three of her students, hanging at the back of the swarm. She ducked her head and edged around Trevor, fleeing back to her table before they could see her.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Where?” Jane asked.
“I don’t care. Let’s just go.”
“But Trevor will be out here soon,” Snotty whined.
Helen stood up on her seat. “Let’s go someplace we can dance!”
Zadie looked at her. “Only if you take off the strap-on.”
“Deal.”
Gilda pulled Zadie aside. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing bad or nothing good?”
“Nothing we have to leave before I do nothing good,” Zadie said.
Gilda scrunched up her face. “That made no sense.”
“Exactly. We have to leave.”
Jane joined their huddle. “He hit on you, didn’t he?”
“No.”
“Something got you all riled up.”
“Maybe it was all the tequila shots.” Zadie opened her purse and threw some money down on the table. “I’m gonna wait in the limo while you guys pay the check, okay?” She had to get out of there before Trevor spotted her and possibly came over. She could not be responsible for what she might do.
Inside the limo, Zadie was pleased to find five new bottles of Moët. The bushy-eyebrowed limo driver smiled at her. “The bride asked me to restock you guys when you were walking in. She’s a handful, that one.” Yeah, no shit.
Zadie opened one of the bottles and poured herself a hefty glass. She’d narrowly escaped a horribly embarrassing situation. This was occasion for a toast. She downed a glass as she congratulated herself. Restraint. Willpower. High moral standards. These were good things to possess.
Betsy slid into the limo next, scooting over against the far door. “Thank God you got Helen to agree to take off that blue dildo. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to take any pictures for the rest of the night.”
Buoyed by the champagne and her newfound sense of selfrighteousness, Zadie leaned over and took Betsy’s hand. “Betsy, I’m sorry the night didn’t end up the way you thought it would. I
know you’re disappointed, but I think we all need to remember that it’s Helen’s night and we’re here to make her happy.”
Betsy nodded gravely. “You’re right. I just don’t know what to think about this totally new Helen. Did you see her on that bull? She was perverted!”
Marci and Kim got into the car. “Are we talking about Helen?” Marci said.
Zadie nodded. “I think it’s just the alcohol. And the occasion. And twenty-eight years of being perfect. She had to blow sometime.” Zadie handed Betsy a glass of champagne. “Drink this. I think it will make the rest of the night easier for you.”
Betsy took it and drank it down in one gulp, then looked up at them. “Have you ever noticed that the first sip of champagne tastes a little bit like garbage? I think I need a second one to counteract it.” She held her glass out and Zadie poured her another one as the other women began to slide into the car.
Snotty and Skinny were pissed. “We didn’t even get to talk to him.”
Eloise was next. “I’m sure he’s in the back room with Pamela Anderson or someone like that.”
Helen and Denise slid in behind her—Helen still in high party mode. “Let’s go to Deep! I read about it in some magazine.”
“If you read about it, it’s already over,” Skinny said.
Zadie looked at her like she was an idiot. Which she was. “None of the places we’ve been tonight are ‘hot spots.’ If they were, we wouldn’t have gotten in.”
“Speak for yourself,” Skinny retorted.
Just as Zadie was wishing she had honed her projectile vomiting skills, Gilda and Jane slid in the car. “Look what we found,” Jane said.
She pulled Trevor into the car.
“Hey.” He climbed over Gilda and plopped down next to Zadie. “Where we going?”
Oh, holy God.
Trevor was sitting next to her. In the limo. “Can I have some of that?” He pointed at the champagne.
Zadie shook her head. “I can’t be responsible for contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”
“I can.” Gilda poured him a glass. Winking at Zadie. Oh, that evil, evil Gilda.
“So, your friends said we’re going dancing.” He motioned toward Jane and Gilda with his head.
“We’re going to Deep,” Helen said.
Trevor smiled. “Cool. I like that place.”
“How do you get into bars?” Zadie asked, completely baffled that Trevor had more of a nightlife than she did.
“Fake ID. I’ve got a really good one. My dad made it for me.”
“Your father wants you to go to bars?”
“He’s pretty cool about stuff like that. He’s a hippie. He’s not really into the whole ‘follow the rules’ thing.” Good, Zadie thought, then he wouldn’t report her for having sex with his son.
Skinny and Snotty had just been staring at him, mouths open, until this point, but unfortunately, Snotty found her powers of speech.
“Trevor, hi. I’m Phoebe. I think you used to go out with someone
I know. Josie Altman?” Clearly, Snotty was completely discounting what Zadie had told her earlier, even though it was obvious that Zadie knew him and therefore knew of what she spoke. Snotty was an idiot of the highest order.
“Never heard of her. Does she go to Yale-Eastlake?”
Snotty frowned. “No. She’s a waitress in Newport.”
“Never been there, sorry.”
Skinny leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. “I loved your band. You guys are really awesome.”
“Thanks. You must be really drunk.”
Gilda leaned back and eyed Zadie behind Trevor’s head, giving her a “So?” look. Zadie gave her a “I can’t fucking believe you did this to me” look in return.
Trevor bent down and picked up the deflated Hans off of the limo floor. “Who’s this poor guy?”
“Helen’s boyfriend,” Denise answered.
“He died,” Helen said, pretending to be sad.
Trevor scooped up the red stuffed penis pillow from its resting place next to Hans. “This has to be yours.” He looked at Zadie.
“Nope. It’s Betsy’s.”
Betsy, now on her third glass of champagne, grabbed it from Trevor. “I like it because it’s furry.”
Trevor raised his eyebrows and looked at Zadie. She smiled back at him, shrugging.
And then Skinny grabbed his knee again. “Trevor, are you guys going to cut an album?”
He looked at her and laughed. “Cut an album? We can barely play our instruments. We only got that gig because of my modeling.”
“Oh, you’re a model?” Eloise asked. Zadie looked at her. No, she did not just pretend not to know he was a model. Was this her idea of playing the coquette?
“I did a couple ads. It’s no big deal. Just travel money so I can go to Europe this summer and not have to sleep in some hostel in a puddle of piss.”
Betsy was confused. “Do you wet the bed?”
Trevor laughed. “You ladies are wasted.”
Zadie giggled as if Trevor were just the most apt commentator on female behavior she’d ever had the pleasure of listening to. But the fact that he’d referred to them as “ladies” was less than sexy. She wanted to be a chick in his eyes. A hot chick.
Helen chugged from her glass of champagne, getting her steam back. “So, Trevor, are you a virgin?”
“Helen!” A collective protest was heard from each woman in the car.
Trevor took it well. He looked at Zadie and rolled his eyes, then looked back at Helen. “Why, are you offering to relieve me?”
Helen batted her eyes. “You should be so lucky.”
Eloise gave Helen a sideways look then looked back at Trevor. “I’m sure Trevor has a girlfriend.”
“Nope. I’m free and clear at the moment. The last girl I went out with was too possessive, so I swore off the whole girlfriend thing for a while.” He rested his hand on Zadie’s leg. She looked down at it. Did he mean to put it there? Maybe he just needed a place to rest his hand. He’d been playing guitar all night. Perhaps his wrist was tired.
Jane noticed it and gave Zadie a “oh, yes, it’s going to happen” look. She poured more champagne into Trevor’s glass. Zadie closed her eyes in shame. Her new friends were getting a teenage boy drunk in order to up her chances with him.
“This stuff kind of tastes like—bad. I think I’ll hold out for a beer when we get to the club.” He handed the champagne glass to Zadie. “You want it?”
Zadie took it and drank it down in one gulp. His hand was still on her leg. Snotty noticed it and glared at Zadie.
“Trevor, is it true that Zadie is your English teacher?” She gave Zadie a smug look, as if to say, “I will de-sex you in his eyes in a matter of seconds.”
“Yeah, she’s the only teacher I like.”
“Why’s that?” Denise asked, angling her pregnant belly to block out most of his view of Snotty.
“Because she’s cool.”
Zadie blushed. She
was
cool, goddammit. And being validated by a sex god only made her more so.
“And she doesn’t give me a lot of shit, like the other teachers do.”
“Who gives you shit?” Zadie asked.
“Ms. Johnson.”
Nancy. Of course.
“What does she do?”
“She’s always trying to get me to do extra-credit stuff.”
Zadie was enraged. Extra credit meant staying after school and spending extra time with the instructor. Nancy was hitting on him! Or at the very least, hogging him for herself. How was he supposed to take Zadie’s creative writing elective if Nancy was keeping him around to peer at petri dishes?
“It doesn’t matter. In four months, I’ll be in college and out of that place.” He looked at Zadie. “Did you find me anyone who went to Stanford?”
“I went to Stanford,” Betsy said. Skinny and Snotty glared at her, beside themselves with jealousy. If only they’d managed to get past community college, they, too, could help Trevor Larkin.
“Really?” Trevor was excited. “Can you give me a recommendation?”
Betsy poured herself another glass of champagne, now the life of the party. “Sure.”
“That would be awesome.” He looked at Zadie. “I knew you’d hook me up.” He squeezed her knee.
“I’m sure the dean remembers me,” Betsy said. “I reorganized the entire student government.” Betsy probably reorganized the curriculum and the housing plan as well, but now that she was getting Zadie into Trevor’s good graces, Zadie was in no position to judge.
Eloise kept staring at Trevor. “I just can’t believe you’re only eighteen.”
“I’m not,” he said. “I’m nineteen. When my parents were touring
with the Dead, they forgot to register me for school, so I started a year late.”
He was nineteen? Zadie couldn’t have been happier if someone had just given her a small country She wasn’t quite sure why one year made such a huge difference, but it did.
The limo stopped and the driver turned around. “We’re at Deep.”
Betsy turned to him. “You know, we don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Jerry.”
“Thank you, Jerry. We appreciate your services.” Betsy was on a roll. Full of good will for everyone.
As they slid out of the car onto Hollywood Boulevard, they were greeted with a giant line to get into the club, which appeared to be nothing more than a green boxy building on the corner with no sign. Denise looked back at Helen. “Maybe we should go someplace else.”
The bouncer at the door looked over the sea of heads in front of him and spotted Trevor getting out of the limo.
“Yo, bro, come on in.” He motioned for Trevor to come to the front of the line.
Trevor gestured at Zadie and her group. “They’re with me.”
“No prob, man.” The bouncer opened the door and ushered them through, much to the consternation of the other people in line. Especially when they spotted Kim and Marci in their Lady Dockers and Keds.
A girl in a black minidress turned to another girl in a black minidress and said, “Okay, either I just got fat while we were standing in line, or those two chicks fucked someone to get in here.”