smelled in equal parts of cologne, beerpuke, peppermints, and weed. Rawson had better pray his parents decided to relocate to Jamaica permanently, because this one was going down in the history books.
The living room was on the right. That’s where the speakers were set up. They had already blown a woofer but kept the volume cranked so that the ragged edge of the sound made the walls shake. Girls were dancing with each other and boys were loving it, dancing behind them and snapping pictures with their camera phones. I saw a couple of the fairy-angel gang, their tiny leaf skirts flirting with being torn off, but no Bethany.
On the other side of the entryway was the dining room jammed with bodies packed around a table overflowing with bags of chips and pretzels, bowls of Halloween candy, and cartons of onion dip that had been used as ashtrays. On the far side were steps that led to a sunken family room that contained mostly horizontal bodies. I hoped she wasn’t in there.
The kegs were in the kitchen. Chip Milbury was, too, with Parker and the other nitwits. They were starting to scowl in my direction when Bethany stepped out from behind them.
“Tyler!” she squealed. “Tyler, Tyler, Tiger-Tyler!”
My fairy angel stumbled towards me carrying two red plastic cups sloshing with beer. Her wings were gone and she was wearing a Warriors sweatshirt that reached to her knees and had a wet stain on the front. Her hair was tangled and tucked behind her ears and she was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
“You’re 1-1-late,” she slurred.
“I got lost. Having fun?”
“Oh, yeah.” She handed me a cup. Her left eye drifted towards her nose. “Drink,” she commanded. “You need to catch up.”
I sipped and tried not to shudder. Cow piss. I set the cup on the counter.
“Want to go outside?” I asked.
“What?”
“It’s noisy!” I shouted.
The crowd around the keg chanted, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” as a guy dressed as a pirate put his mouth on the tap and pulled the handle. I took her hand and motioned for her to follow me.
My plan? What plan? I was winging it.
Parker moved quickly behind the crowd and cut off our exit. He stepped in front of me. “What are you doing with her?” he demanded.
“Out of my way,” I said.
He put his hand on my chest.
Oh, crap. Now I have to shove him and he’ll have to shove me, and I’ll trip and he’ll jump on me and people will scream and pour beer on us and I won’t get to kiss her.
Bethany grabbed Parker by the thumb and twisted it painfully. “He’s with me.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me away.
I grinned at Parker and winked.
To be honest, I had never been at a party like this. I mean, I’d been at parties, I had done a little drinking, but this was off the hook and I was off balance. Bethany was totally at home. She wanted to dance, we danced. Well, she danced—dirty danced—and everyone watched. I moved nervously from one foot to the other. Part of me wanted to kill all the other guys in the room, part of me wanted to keep them alive so they’d have to deal with the fact that she was dancing with me. Me. Tyler Former Loser Miller.
She wanted to go down to the basement, so down we went. She wanted to play pool, we played. She wanted to watch some kids on the PS2, we watched, with my hand on her hip and her hand in my back pocket. She wanted to drink. I got her another beer, but I didn’t get one for myself because out of the corner of my eye I was always seeing Chip and Parker, and they were not happy with the way the night was turning out for me.
When Bethany went to the bathroom with two of her girlfriends, I wandered back to the kitchen in search of real food. Yoda was pouring a cup of foam from the keg with Hannah wrapped around him like a bloodsucking leech.
Yoda was at the party, with my sister.
My sister did not belong there.
She belonged at home, in her bed, alone, asleep, with one arm around her Raggedy Ann and the other
The living room was on the right. That’s where the speakers were set up. They had already blown a woofer but kept the volume cranked so that the ragged edge of the sound made the walls shake. Girls were dancing with each other and boys were loving it, dancing behind them and snapping pictures with their camera phones. I saw a couple of the fairy-angel gang, their tiny leaf skirts flirting with being torn off, but no Bethany.
On the other side of the entryway was the dining room jammed with bodies packed around a table overflowing with bags of chips and pretzels, bowls of Halloween candy, and cartons of onion dip that had been used as ashtrays. On the far side were steps that led to a sunken family room that contained mostly horizontal bodies. I hoped she wasn’t in there.
The kegs were in the kitchen. Chip Milbury was, too, with Parker and the other nitwits. They were starting to scowl in my direction when Bethany stepped out from behind them.
“Tyler!” she squealed. “Tyler, Tyler, Tiger-Tyler!”
My fairy angel stumbled towards me carrying two red plastic cups sloshing with beer. Her wings were gone and she was wearing a Warriors sweatshirt that reached to her knees and had a wet stain on the front. Her hair was tangled and tucked behind her ears and she was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
“You’re 1-1-late,” she slurred.
“I got lost. Having fun?”
“Oh, yeah.” She handed me a cup. Her left eye drifted towards her nose. “Drink,” she commanded. “You need to catch up.”
I sipped and tried not to shudder. Cow piss. I set the cup on the counter.
“Want to go outside?” I asked.
“What?”
“It’s noisy!” I shouted.
The crowd around the keg chanted, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” as a guy dressed as a pirate put his mouth on the tap and pulled the handle. I took her hand and motioned for her to follow me.
My plan? What plan? I was winging it.
Parker moved quickly behind the crowd and cut off our exit. He stepped in front of me. “What are you doing with her?” he demanded.
“Out of my way,” I said.
He put his hand on my chest.
Oh, crap. Now I have to shove him and he’ll have to shove me, and I’ll trip and he’ll jump on me and people will scream and pour beer on us and I won’t get to kiss her.
Bethany grabbed Parker by the thumb and twisted it painfully. “He’s with me.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me away.
I grinned at Parker and winked.
To be honest, I had never been at a party like this. I mean, I’d been at parties, I had done a little drinking, but this was off the hook and I was off balance. Bethany was totally at home. She wanted to dance, we danced. Well, she danced—dirty danced—and everyone watched. I moved nervously from one foot to the other. Part of me wanted to kill all the other guys in the room, part of me wanted to keep them alive so they’d have to deal with the fact that she was dancing with me. Me. Tyler Former Loser Miller.
She wanted to go down to the basement, so down we went. She wanted to play pool, we played. She wanted to watch some kids on the PS2, we watched, with my hand on her hip and her hand in my back pocket. She wanted to drink. I got her another beer, but I didn’t get one for myself because out of the corner of my eye I was always seeing Chip and Parker, and they were not happy with the way the night was turning out for me.
When Bethany went to the bathroom with two of her girlfriends, I wandered back to the kitchen in search of real food. Yoda was pouring a cup of foam from the keg with Hannah wrapped around him like a bloodsucking leech.
Yoda was at the party, with my sister.
My sister did not belong there.
She belonged at home, in her bed, alone, asleep, with one arm around her Raggedy Ann and the other
Similar Books
