Young Writers Society

Chapter Three

Goody’s was packed by the time we got there. Jensen had hardly said two words in the car; he just did his swallowing thing multiple times and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Needless to say, by the time we got to the party I was eager to find a human capable of speech. I also had a secret hope that maybe someone had snuck a couple of drinks in. I could use a buzz tonight.

Every light in the house was on, and I could hear the music from the driveway as we got out of the car. Jensen tried to hurry out and beat me to opening the door, but I wanted this to be treated as little like a date as possible, so I jumped out and slammed it behind me, smiling at him apologetically.

“Wren! And… Jensen! I’m so glad you could make it,” our friend called from the doorway. Goody Meyers beamed at me and, when I reached her, she clasped my hands, kissing the air next to my cheeks. When she pulled back I gave her a questioning look, and she laughed. “Oh, I learned that in France. We went abroad for a couple months, didn’t you hear? Let me just tell you, Paris was divine. You just have to go sometime.”

Divine, huh? I forced a smile. “I really doubt my family will be making it to Europe anytime soon.”

Goody had already turned her attention to Jensen. He stared back at her, swallowing some more. “I’m surprised you came,” she said, laughing again. “You hardly ever come out of your little hidey-hole.”

Jensen shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. “Yes, well…”

I may not have liked him all that much, but I wasn’t about to let Goody toy with him. “We both needed a night out. So what have we missed?”

She had a short attention span, so any diversion would have worked. At my question Goody was beaming again. “Oh, tons. Eric Thatch was barfing in the bushes just a few minutes ago. He told my mom he had the flu.” Here she made finger quotations in the air, giggling. “And Nikki broke up with Josh again.” An eye roll.

Someone turned up the rap music at that moment, and Goody had to raise her voice as she continued spilling out her party gossip. Jensen was fidgeting, and I began to watch the people walking around inside, dancing, talking. I nodded once in a while at whatever Goody was saying.

“And did you hear the latest about Phil Hendrick? He’s back from the U for the weekend. Rumor has it he and a couple of his college buddies are planning on stopping by for a bit.” She practically hopped when she said it.

My attention was all hers, suddenly. “He is? Who said that?”

Her eyes gleamed with abrupt, catty slyness. “I can’t remember. Who knows if it’s really true? Not that you care, right, Wrenny? I mean, it’s not like you two even talked before he graduated.”

“You know I hate it when people call me that,” I mumbled. Mattie was the only one I endured the nickname from.

Goody turned around, that smile still lingering at the corners of her mouth. “I know. So, guys, come on in. Sorry I’ve kept you standing out her. God, what kind of hostess am I?”

I didn’t bother to respond and followed her inside. Jensen was right at my heels, a faithful puppy dog.

As soon as Goody stepped into the huge room that was her entryway, a stick-thin girl with purple hair rushed up to her. “Goody, there’s a fight in the backyard,” she gasped in supposed horror, but Jensen could probably even see her poorly-disguised excitement.

Goody snapped around to face me, the same pathetic animation in her eyes. “I’d better go see what’s going on,” she said quickly, and the purple-haired girl grabbed her hand. They both ran off, leaving me and Jensen standing there like idiots.

“It’s not funny, Tyler!” A couple brushed past us, and I stumbled a little. Jensen caught me awkwardly, breathing right in my ear.

“Are you okay?” he asked loudly.

I pulled away, grimacing, and turned to look up at his slightly-sweaty face. He shoved his glasses up his nose. “Listen,” I leaned closer so he could hear me, “why don’t you go… get us some drinks? I’ll wait here.” Anything to get his hand off of my waist.

Jensen nodded eagerly. “Be right back,” he assured me, daring to smile at me. I tried to return it but failed miserably. He didn’t notice—the boy was already trying to fight his way through the crowded living room, in search of the drink that I desperately needed.

I leaned against the wall and watched the party around me, watched the purple and red and yellow lights dancing across my skin and over the dancing, squirming bodies of teenagers I recognized and many I didn’t. For the first time I looked up and noticed a banner tied across the ceiling that said WE’LL MISS YOU GOODY.

Not, I added. What had I been thinking? Why did I let Mattie talk me into this? Fun? Had I been insane? Three minutes into this damn thing and I was already regretting it.

A harried-looking woman was speeding down the enormous staircase across the front door. She spotted me and waved briefly; I recognized Goody’s mother just before she vanished into the dining room opposite the living-room-turned-night-club. I lifted my hand to wave back, but she was already gone, of course. I was too slow. Just like I always was.

“I-I, uh, don’t think this is just soda.” Jensen reappeared at my side, and I jumped. “Oh, s-sorry,” he apologized, flushing a beet red. I just sighed, taking one of the drinks out of his hands. I clutched the plastic cup and guzzled it. The faint bite to it—some kind of alcohol, obviously—was a welcome relief.

Jensen was just standing there watching me. I glanced up at his face, then down at his drink. “So you want that?” I asked loudly. Not loud enough; Jensen cocked his head in question. Exasperated, I motioned to the other drink. Understanding dawned, and the boy hesitated. He bent down to my ear and his hot breath tickled my cheek.

“I’m not sure you should—” he began.

“Wren!” A whirlwind of yellow and black flew down on me. I found myself being squeezed so tight I could hardly breathe.

“Lacey?”

She pulled back, grinning from ear to ear. She’d always reminded me of a little fairy, all bright and fluttery. And as usual, she was wearing her cheerleading uniform. Go, Bumble Bees. We’d never been that close, but I guess times were changing. Have changed, I corrected myself.

Lacey rudely elbowed Jensen out of the way, not even seeming to take any notice of him. She grabbed my shoulder and leaned close. “Is it true?” she screeched in my ear. I was pretty sure I would be deaf before the night was over. “About you and Phil Hendrick going on a date last year, I mean?” she clarified.

I glanced at Jensen, but he was preoccupied trying to avoid a couple suddenly making out right beside him. I looked back down at Lacey. “Uh… yeah. I guess so. It was a fling… why?”

Lacey looked confused now. “A ring?” Her eyes were round. “What?”

I shook my head hard and raised my voice even more. “Fling. Fling! Why?”

Her face cleared. “Oh! Phil’s here! Goody sent me up here, she thought you might want to see him! He and his buddies are parked out back!”

What? Her words registered slowly. But when they did, panic set in. My stomach was tight, and my first instinct was to turn right around and march out the door. Phil, really here? Without even looking at Jensen, I grabbed the drink of his hand and chugged that one, too. I remembered the last time Phil and I had spoken. Unwillingly, my mind went back to that awkward night in his pickup…

The windows were fogged up. It was a cold night, but I’d never felt more warm. Phil’s arms were hard and perfect beneath my hands, and he knew all the right moves. I squeezed my eyes tight, for a moment unable to believe that this was really happening. Had Phil Hendrick really stopped by my house to ask me out yesterday night? Did we really just go to dinner? Were we really parked by the river right now? Was he really kissing me? Oh, yes. And he was such a good kisser…

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” Phil pulled away, his gorgeous lips quirked into a self-satisfied grin.

My eyes fluttered open. “H-huh?”

Now he was actually smirking, and I instinctively scowled. “What do you like to do for fun?” Phil repeated.

My scowl faded. “Oh.” I blushed. “Well, uh, I guess I like to sew. And embroider, and stuff.” The first answer that came to my head. Stupid, Wren, I scolded myself, mortified. What’s cool at all about that?

And Phil was eyeing me. “Wow, that’s… neat.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I’m more into sports and stuff. Have you ever come to one of my games?”

I nodded eagerly now, relieved. “Yeah, tons. I sit with… me and my friends cheer you guys on every home game.”

He was smiling again. “Thanks. Maybe next time you could stand on the sidelines and give me a different kind of encouragement.”

“Maybe.” I was thrilled.

Suddenly Phil’s phone beeped. I pulled away and he glanced at the glowing green screen, frowning. “Uh, I’d better take this. Would you mind…?”

“No, no, go right ahead.” I forced a smile.

Phil rewarded me with another grin, and he flipped the phone open. “Hey, what’s up?” He listened for a moment, then opened the door of the truck and jumped out. He slammed the door behind him. “No, it’s fine, I’m not doing anything special. What’s up?” He walked a ways down the river bank, nodding his head.

I pretended like I wasn’t bothered by it. Must be his mom or something, I thought to myself. For a moment I thought about Mattie, at home, probably waiting by the door. He would grill me as soon as I stepped through the door, and I’d better prepare myself for his careful questions.

By the time Phil got off the phone the cab of the truck was cold and it was five minutes until my curfew. And my house was fifteen minutes away.

But I didn’t say anything. He hung up his cell, shoved it into his pocket, and got into the truck hurriedly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look at me.

After ten minutes of silence, car headlights rushing by on the highway, I had to say something. “Are you all right?”

He didn’t spare me a glance. “Yeah. But I have to be somewhere.”

And that was the last thing he said to me. He pulled up in front of my house, ignored my goodbye, and sped off. The following day at school I found out that he and his girlfriend had gotten back together sometime last night, and he walked right by me as if I didn’t exist.

“Wren? Did you hear me?” Lacey smiled eagerly at me, waiting.

I blinked, feeling my cheeks burning in barely suppressed anger and humiliation. “I actually want to dance, but tell Phil I say hi,” I forced out, managing a tight, unconvincing smile back at Lacey. She shrugged and flipped her long hair, darting away.

I should just go home. Watch a corny movie with Mattie. At this point, that sounded much more fun. I closed my eyes and put my back to the wall. I used to be used to parties like this, but now, after so long in the shadows, it all felt strange and unfamiliar. My head was spinning.

“Wren?” Jensen touched the small of my back, and I reluctantly raised my eyes. He inclined his head nervously towards the dancing. “Should… I mean…”

Ugh, no! I played dumb. “What?” I cupped my ear and tilted my head.

Jensen swallowed, pushed his glasses up. “Did you want to, you know? Or, no?”

My eyes widened with feigned pleasure. “How thoughtful, Jensen! Yes, my drink is low.” I offered him my empty cup.

Jensen stared at it, disappointment heavy in his sulk. On his young face, the expression actually made him look like some kind of two-year-old. I tried to hide my disgust.

Without another word, Jensen took the cup from me and turned away once more. His shoulders were slumped, and I studied the defeat of his posture and gait with a little guilt. Hey, it isn’t my fault he dragged me to this lame party, I tried to justify myself. Then I just shrugged, brushing my hair back and looking at the wall.

It looked like I wasn’t going to move from the entry way this entire night. I was going to get wasted right by the front door. Good—it just made a quick exit that much easier if it became necessary.

“What is this? Trying to avoid being the life of the party?”

I bit my lip and tried to hide my anxiety. I knew whose voice it was without looking up. He’d been—sadly enough—my first kiss, my first real date. He was the boy I’d been thinking about for months, the one I’d had a major crush on for what felt like forever.

“Hi, Phil.” I admired the control in my voice. The coolness didn’t even sound forced.

He hadn’t changed a bit. His skin may have been tanner, and his hair shorter, but all in all, Phil Hendrick was the exact same boy who’d never called me again after that first date.

I remembered my excitement that night, getting ready. I’d done my hair at least six times, refusing to leave the bathroom until it was curled just right. I’d agonized over my outfit, calling what friends I had left to ask for advice, any advice. I’d endured Mattie’s scowl and his worry, sat in front of the window waiting for an hour.

Pathetic, I thought now. But I couldn’t deny the small leap my heart made when my gaze clashed with his pale blue one. I’d always compared his eyes to Mattie’s—my brother’s eyes were vibrant, hard to look away from—while Phil’s were washed out, insignificant. If I couldn’t find any other flaw, at least I had that.

My feelings must have shown on my face, because Phil drew back, looking confused. “It’s been a long time, Wren. Didn’t you miss me, even a little?”

I couldn’t be hard and cruel, like I wanted to be, but I wasn’t about to be the sappy love-sick girl I had been. A girl from another life. “I haven’t really thought about you, to be honest. It’s been busy around here.” What I really wanted to say was, Why would I miss you? There’s nothing particularly memorable about you.

Lies, my conscience whispered.

He was intrigued. I could see it in those pale eyes. He laughed, dimples I’d forgotten about flashing. “Well, I missed you,” he countered. “I came here for you, actually. Heard a rumor that you might come. Can we catch up? Just tonight?”

What was he asking? Phil must have realized I wanted more, because he bent down so that his face was just inches from mine. I tried to be indifferent, but my palms were sweating. Stupid traitorous hormones.

“Want to dance?” he asked low in my ear. It was so completely different from the way Jensen had asked. Phil’s breath was cool, and when his jaw brushed against my temple I caught a whiff of his delicious aftershave.

“I should…” I hesitated. Phil laughed again, the sound vibrating under the hands I hadn’t even realized I’d put on his chest.

“Just one dance,” he coaxed.

Just one dance, I repeated. He’s practically begging. What’s so bad about that? For old times sake, I guess. Why not?

I pushed him away lightly, meeting his gaze once more. He held out his hand, eyebrows raised. I lifted my chin, answering the challenge I saw in his eyes and sending one of my own.

His fingers were warm as they wrapped around mine. I tried to deny the tingling and warmth spreading through me. “Okay,” I agreed. “One dance.”